“Joe won’t come down without him,” said Henry Blake in a low voice.
“That’s what he won’t,” agreed Harry Martin.
But how was Joe to lower the man past that outburst of flame? Even a momentary passage through it would likely cause death if the man inhaled the fire. At best, he would be terribly burned.
But Joe Strong knew what he was doing. As the crowd watched, they saw him take off his soaking wet coat and trousers, wet from his swim across the creek. In another instant Joe had wrapped and twisted the sodden garments around the form of the magician, covering his head and face.
It was then the work of but an instant for Joe to fasten the rope about Professor Rosello. Joe was an expert in tying knots, and soon he swung the form, encased in wet garments, free of the window ledge. Down he lowered the man, swiftly, right through the outburst of flame. The rope was charred but not burned through.
“I knew Joe’d think of a way!” shouted Tom.
“But how’s he going to get down himself?” gasped Harry. “He can never do it!”
This was a puzzling question for his chum. Joe seemed doomed. But the lad himself never seemed to give this a thought. He stood in the open, upper doorway, attired in only his wet undergarments.
The flames, spurting out from the window below him, seemed fiercer than ever. The rope would never stand another trip past them. And now a series of small explosions in the building on the upper floor of which Joe stood indicated that that building soon would go in a burst of fire and smoke.
But Joe knew there was a life net carried on the auto fire engine, and he depended on this.