He was not three feet from her when, with an agility that surprised her, she leaped from box top to box top until she found herself ten feet above the floor.
But the dog, who appeared to be an utterly savage beast, could climb too. She could hear him scrambling and scratching his way up, growling as he came. Her head was in a whirl. What was to be done? Suddenly she realized that just before her, beyond the boxes, was a window. Dragging her bag after her, she succeeded in reaching the window. She found it locked. In her desperation she dropped her bag and began kicking at the sash. With a sudden snap the fastenings gave way. She was caught so unawares that she plunged straight out of the window.
With a bump that knocked all the wind from her lungs and most of her senses from her head, she landed on something hard. Without being able to help herself, she rolled over once, then fell again. This time, to her surprise and consternation, she did not bump; she splashed. She sank. She rose. With all her nerves alert, she swam strongly in the stinging lake water. She had fallen from the narrow pier ledge and had landed in the lake.
A white cake of ice loomed up before her. She swam to it and climbed upon it. What was to be done? The thermometer was near zero. She was soaked to the skin, and far from anyone she knew.
“Got—got to get to shore somehow,” she shivered. “I’ll freeze here, sure. Freeze in no time.”
She looked back at the place from which she had come. The window was still open. The dog had stopped barking. She wondered in a vague sort of way what had become of her pursuer.
“And—and my bag,” she chattered. “It—it’s in there.” She was coming almost to hate that bag.
“Can’t get up there anyway,” was her final comment. It was true; between the water line and the surface of the pier landing was a sheer wall of cement, eight feet high and smooth as glass.
Her gaze swept a broad circle. Off to her right was a solid mass of ice which appeared to reach to shore.
“One swim and then I can walk to land,” she shuddered.