What did this mean? It failed to touch the bottom! There must be a greater depth in the street than on the garden side.
We bent down, holding it with main strength, and still found no footing.
“It must go,” I gasped, red in the face.
“Surely. We take chances. Say when,” was the reply of the mate.
“Now, then.”
Both released our hold together—there was a dull sound below, as the foot of the ladder struck, and I listened with my heart in my mouth, expecting a crash as it toppled over, but it failed to come.
At least, we did not seem reduced to the sterner resort to the rope, as yet.
“Hold on—let me go,” I cried, clutching hold of the eager Robbins, who was already halfway over the parapet of the adobe wall.
“Nixy—my business—yours is to look after her, Morgan,” he hurriedly answered.
Undoubtedly she heard him.