I swung this hook cautiously to the roof several times before it
finally found lodgment; gently I pulled on it to strengthen its
hold, but whether it would bear the weight of my body I did not
know. It might be barely caught upon the very outer verge of the
roof, so that as my body swung out at the end of the strap it would
slip off and launch me to the pavement a thousand feet below.
An instant I hesitated, and then, releasing my grasp upon the
supporting ornament, I swung out into space at the end of the
strap. Far below me lay the brilliantly lighted streets, the hard
pavements, and death. There was a little jerk at the top of the
supporting eaves, and a nasty slipping, grating sound which turned
me cold with apprehension; then the hook caught and I was safe.
Clambering quickly aloft I grasped the edge of the eaves and drew
myself to the surface of the roof above. As I gained my feet I was
confronted by the sentry on duty, into the muzzle of whose revolver
I found myself looking.
"Who are you and whence came you?" he cried.
"I am an air scout, friend, and very near a dead one, for just by
the merest chance I escaped falling to the avenue below," I replied.
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