"Get your feet out and then let yourself down by your hands," Dave cautioned. "The roof shouldn't be more than a few inches under your toes. But, watch out. The darn thing slants down a bit, you know."
"I'll make it, all right," Freddy said and twisted around on the sill so that he was hanging on his stomach. "Can you make it alone, though?"
"A cinch!" Dave whispered. "Don't wait for me. Sneak down the roof and drop to the ground. I'll be right behind you. Go ahead, Freddy."
Dave waited until he heard the soft thud of the English boy's feet touching the roof, then he grabbed hold of the sill with his hands and swiftly and silently hoisted his body upward. For a brief instant he sat poised on the sill grinning back into the darkened room. Then he swiveled over and lowered himself down. In almost no time he had cat-crawled down the gently sloping roof to its lip. He pressed flat on his stomach and stuck his head over the edge of the roof. Below him was nothing but a sea of inky darkness. For some crazy reason a twinge of panic shot through him.
"Freddy!" he whispered.
"Here, Dave," came the welcomed reply. "I'm on the ground and to your left. It's all clear down here. The ground's soft. Come on down."
"Here I come!" Dave said, and twisted over and let himself lightly down onto the ground.
No sooner had his feet touched than Freddy had a hand on his arm.
"Well, that's the first part!" the English youth breathed excitedly. "Now, what's the next move?"
"Our shoes," Dave said and pulled the other down onto the ground. "Then we head straight up that hill, there, and keep going north."