Leaning out of his window, he exerted his strength against the lightning rod. To his dismay it was loose, and a little stronger pull would have torn it away from the side of the house.
“Whew!” whistled Joe, softly. “That’s bad. I’ll never dare trust my weight to that. I’d come down all at once. I wouldn’t mind the fall so very much, but I’d make a racket, and he’d sure wake up. Now what can I do? I ought to have tested that rod this afternoon, and then I could have begun tearing up the sheets into a rope. Maybe I can do that now.”
Joe was about to do this, then decided on a more straightforward plan.
“They’re both sound asleep,” he reflected. “I can easily slip down the stairs and go out the front door. I won’t make any noise, and it will be safer even than going down by a bed-sheet rope. That might break or slip off what I tied it to, and I’d fall anyhow. Yes, I’ll go out the front way, but I’ll have to be very quiet.”
Joe took off his shoes, unlocked his door with great caution, and went softly down the stairs. To his delight they did not creak much, and he soon found himself in the lower hall.
As he was at the front door turning the key, he heard a sudden noise behind him in the darkness.
“Jinks! He’s heard me!” reflected Joe quickly. “I’ve got to run for it!”
He opened the door and fairly leaped off the steps in his stocking-feet. It was the work of but an instant to run around the side path, pick up the bundle of Tom’s clothes and the valise, and then leap over the fence to the sidewalk. Then, still carrying his shoes and other things, Joe sped on, running away, fearful lest the awakened deacon should run after him.
CHAPTER IX
THE OVERTURNED LAMP
The noise which Joe Strong had heard was not caused, as he had feared, by the rousing of Deacon Blackford. All things considered, it might have been well for Joe had it been.