They proceeded to haul. Rodney helped them by catching hold of the cornice of the window and lifting himself. Then there was a moment of great straining, during which Montague held his breath; after which the weight grew lighter again. Rodney had got his knees upon the cornice.
A few moments later his fingers appeared, clutching the edge of the sill. He swung himself up, and Montague and Bates grasped him under the arms, and fairly jerked him into the room.
He staggered to his feet; and there was a moment's pause, while all three caught their breath. Then Rodney leaped at Bates, and grasped him by the shoulders. “Old man!” he cried. “We landed them! We landed them!”
“We landed them!” laughed the other in exultation.
“Oh, what a scoop!” shouted Rodney. “There was never one like it.”
The two were like schoolboys in their glee. They hugged each other, and laughed and danced about. But it was not long before they became serious again. Montague turned on the lights, and pulled down the window; and Rodney stood there, with his clothing dishevelled and his face ablaze with excitement, and talked to them.
“Oh, you can't imagine that scene!” he said. “It makes my hair stand on end to think of it. Just fancy—I was not more than twenty feet from Dan Waterman, and most of the time he seemed to be glaring right at me. I hardly dared wink, for fear he'd notice; and I thought every instant he would jump up and run to the window. But there he sat, and pounded on the table, and glared about at those fellows, and laid down the law to them.”
“I've heard him talk,” said Bates. “I know how it is.”
“Why, he fairly knocked them over!” said the other. “You could have heard a pin drop when he got through. Oh, it was a mad thing to see!”
“I've hardly been able to get my breath,” said Bates. “I can't believe it.”