I took a step toward the window, but before I could take another,
Kennedy yanked me back.

"Don't think for a moment that he overlooked that," he shouted.

Craig looked around hastily. In a corner, just back of us was a
long pole. He snatched it up and moved cautiously toward the
window, keeping the pole as level as possible as he endeavored to
get a leverage on the sash. The flames were mounting faster and
higher, licking up everything.

"Keep back, Walter," he muttered, "just as far as you can."

He had scarcely raised the window a fraction of an inch when an
old rusty, heavy anvil and a bent worn plowshare crashed down to
the floor directly over the spot where I should have been if he
had not dragged me away. I started back, aghast. Nothing had been
overlooked to finish us off.

"I think you may try it safely now, all right," smiled Kennedy
coolly.

We climbed out of the window, not an instant too soon from the
raging inferno about us.

Having gained the clump of woods, the gaunt figure had paused long
enough to gloat over his clever scheme. Instead, he saw us making
good our escape. With a gesture of intense fury he turned. There
was nothing more for him to do but to zigzag his way to safety
across country.