“It's all right,” he said softly and reassuringly; “I'm Dan Kerry, son of Chief Inspector Kerry. Can I be of any assistance?”
Her hands clasped convulsively together, the woman stood looking up at him.
“Oh, thank God!” said the captive. “But what are you going to do? Can you get me out?”
“Don't worry,” replied Dan confidently. “Father and I can manage it all right!”
He performed a singular contortion, as a result of which his other leg and foot appeared inside the window. Then, twisting around, he lowered himself and dropped triumphantly upon a cushioned divan. At that moment he would have faced a cage full of man-eating tigers. The spirit of adventure had him in its grip. He stood up, breathing rapidly, his crop of red hair more dishevelled than usual.
Then, before he could stir or utter any protest, the golden-haired princess whom he had come to rescue stooped, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
“You darling, brave boy!” she said. “I think you have saved me from madness.”
Young Kerry, more flushed than ever, extricated himself, and:
“You're not out of the mess yet,” he protested. “The only difference is that I'm in it with you!”
“But where is your father?”