d of a ball of twine. About his
body he had coiled a long, very thin, very strong rope. After Boris had
the end of the cord he would fasten the rope to his end, and so enable
Boris to draw it up. And to guard against losing the end of the cord, he
tied it to his own left wrist.

He waited for the sentries to meet; gave the one who stayed on his side
a start, and then, taking careful aim, threw his ball. At home Fred had
played baseball. More than once a game had depended on the accuracy of
his toss of a hot grounder to the first baseman. In basketball games, he
had stood, with the score tied, to shoot for the basket on a foul, when
the outcome was to be settled by the accuracy of his throw. But never
had he been as nervous as he was now. The ball flew straight and true,
however. He saw it enter the window. And the next moment a tug on his
wrist told him that Boris had it.

He waited breathlessly. Then two short pulls signalled that Boris had
read his note and would follow his instructions. He gave three sharp
tugs, and then settled down to wait, with beating heart, for now the
crucial test was coming. The other sentry was about to appear. If he
noticed the thin string, by any chance, the whole scheme would be
spoiled and Fred, in all probability, would be caught and treated as a
spy.

The man came around the corner of the house, walking slowly, his head
down. As he neared the twine he stopped for just a moment and looked up.
Fred scarcely dared to breathe. He knew what had happened. The twine had
brushed against the sentry's cheek. But then a puff of wind carried it
away, and the man went on, brushing at his cheek, thinking, perhaps, a
moth had touched it.

One sharp tug of the twine. That was the signal to Boris to go ahead.
His eyes strained on the window, Fred saw his cousin's figure appear on
the sill, saw him climbing swiftly up a water pipe, and then saw him
drop to the flat roof, hidden for the moment by a low parapet. Then
there was another period of agonized waiting, for again a sentry was to
pass. Fred used the brief interval of enforced inaction to loosen the
rope and place it on the ground, tied to the loose end of the twine he
took from his wrist, so that it would have a clear passage through the
bushes. Then the coast was clear again, and he signalled to Boris to
draw it up. Up, up went the twine; then the rope started. And at last it
dangled against the side of the house. Fred, knowing it was there, c