“There is a peephole into the next room. It was clever of you to guess. But they will not think of that⁠—they are only anxious to get in.”

“Yes⁠—but look here⁠—”

“Leave it to me.” She bent down. To his amazement, Tommy saw that she was fastening the end of a long piece of string to the handle of a big cracked jug. She arranged it carefully, then turned to Tommy.

“Have you the key of the door?”

“Yes.”

“Give it to me.”

He handed it to her.

“I am going down. Do you think you can go halfway, and then swing yourself down behind the ladder, so that they will not see you?”