Step by step Joe walked backward until he heard the low voice of the woman at the open window.
"Shall I take Peter now?" she asked.
"Can you reach him?" asked Joe. He knew he was close to the building.
"Yes," she answered.
"Then do," said Joe. "He may try to spring off when he sees himself so close to you. Take him. I'll stand still a moment."
He felt the cat stirring. The next instant he was relieved of Peter's weight, and then, with a quick turning motion, Joe himself was half way within the window and sitting on the sill.
He had walked out on the wire, stretched a hundred feet above the street, and rescued the cat. The pet was now in the arms of the woman in black.
And then such a roar as went up in the crowd! Men thumped one another on the back, and then shook hands, wondering at their foolishness and why there was such a queer lump in their throats.
"Oh! Oh!" gasped the woman, as she hugged Peter to her. "I can never thank you enough—not in all my life. It may be foolish to care so much for a cat. But I can't help it. It isn't all that. I couldn't have borne it to have seen him fall and be killed."
"He's all right now—after he gets over being scared," said Joe, as he stroked the cat in the arms of the woman in black.