It was now dark outside and Chester realized that he could not have a
better moment for his desperate attempt. Quickly he recrossed the room,
and dropped the other end of the rope out the window. He glanced down.

"O.K.," he said. "Here goes."

He leaped quickly to the sill, and a moment later was lowering himself
hand over hand. And at length he came to the end of the rope.

The ground was still far below him, but Chester had not figured the rope
would reach to the ground. Clinging tightly to the rope, he gazed
quickly about.

He was now even with the window on the third floor, and he succeeded by
clever work in getting a foothold on the sill; and, still clinging to the
rope, he stood erect. Inside, Chester saw the figure of a man.
Inadvertently, the lad's foot crashed against the window pane, shattering
the glass. There was a crash, followed by a guttural exclamation from
inside the room.

"I've got to move now!" exclaimed the lad.

Taking a firm hold on the rope, he swung himself outward, giving his
flight through space an added impetus by pushing with his right foot. He
went sailing through the air, even as a pistol shot rang out behind him.

Chester had calculated truly. Headfirst he crashed among the branches of
a tree, at the far side of the walk. Instantly he released his hold upon
the rope and was safe in the tree.