"Give me a lasso, Manuel, and hurry, or I'll take the end of it to you," roared the captain.
Jim put his hand on his comrade's shoulder and whispered:
"I want that lasso," and he edged along until he was directly underneath the balcony, then he rose slowly to his feet, which, in his wet stockings, did not slip. Manuel, indeed, had hurried, for no sooner had Jim risen to the height of his precarious position than he saw the rope dangling downward like a snake. He let it alone until he believed that it was paid out to the full.
Then he gripped it with both of his powerful hands, and gave it a yank, as though he were ringing out the old year. It pulled the sailor who was paying the rope out bodily out of the balcony, and only the agility and strength of the captain kept him from falling into the hands or upon the head of the enemy below, but in the struggle he let go of the rope.
Jim, with his treasure firmly in hand, now moved rapidly along the ridge of the roof to a chimney, paying no attention to the uproar on the balcony above, nor to the shots that, with a dimmed report, tore harmlessly through the gray garment of the fog. It did not take them long to tie the rope around the chimney and then Berwick slid down past several windows and with a drop of ten feet was on the ground once more. In a moment Jim was standing by him. His first act was to seek out and put on his shoes.
"Over the fence now, Captain?"
"No," replied Jim, "we won't give up the fight till we're beaten."
"Better get, while we have the chance," protested the engineer earnestly.
"Come quick; I have a scheme," announced Jim. "We won't run yet."
"No faster than molasses in January," said the engineer irritably.