A few rods farther ahead I could make out the Belleclaire
Sanatorium surrounded by its picketed stone wall. Not a light was
visible in any of the windows.

"Now that we're here," I whispered, "what can we do?"

"You remember the paper I gave Mrs. Cranston when the excitement
in the hall broke loose?"

"Yes," I nodded, as we moved over under the shadow of the wall.

"I wrote on a sheet from my note-book," said Kennedy, "and told
her to be ready when she heard a pebble strike the window; and I
gave her a piece of string to let down to the ground."

Kennedy threw the silk ladder up until it caught on one of the
pickets; then, with the other ladder and the wedges, he reached
the top of the wall, followed by me. We pulled the first ladder up
as we clung to the pickets, and let it down again inside.
Noiselessly we crossed the lawn.

Above was Mrs. Cranston's window. Craig picked up some bits of
broken stone from a walk about the house and threw them gently
against the pane. Then we drew back into the shadow of the house,
lest any prying eyes might discover us. In a few minutes the
window on the second floor was stealthily opened. The muffled
figure of Mrs. Cranston appeared in the dim light; then a piece of
string was lowered.

To it Kennedy attached a light silk ladder and motioned in