“The sun’s getting so hot now that you’d better carry my parasol, if you’re going out,” Florence suggested over her shoulder as she left the room.

Although Jo Ann had not said a word, she immediately decided that here was her chance to go back to the market after the rope.

Jo Ann got the parasol and then hastened out the door, Peggy at her heels.

“Let’s go back to the market for the rope first before we go to the curio store,” Jo Ann suggested as soon as they reached the street.

“All right, but let’s hurry so I’ll be sure to have time to stop and get the cards,” replied Peggy.

When they reached the market the crowd had thinned considerably, and without much difficulty they found the booth and bought the rope.

Peggy smiled widely as they left the booth and remarked teasingly, “I notice you didn’t ask for ropa this time.”

Jo Ann grinned good-naturedly. “No, I looked it up in my dictionary and found the right word for rope.”

As it had taken longer to make the trip than they had anticipated, Jo Ann hurried Peggy along.

“I’ve got to get this rope inside the house and hidden before Florence finishes helping her father.”

Just as they turned the corner by the Plaza, Jo Ann halted abruptly. “Peg, look, standing there in the doorway—Felipe! I can’t go past him, carrying the rope loose like this.”

“Well—I’ll tell you, Jo. We’ve forgotten the postcards. Let’s go to the store and get them, and maybe by the time we get back he’ll be gone.”

To their vexation, when they returned to the same corner fifteen minutes later, they found that Felipe was still standing in the doorway.

“Look, Peg! The watchdog is still there. I’m not going to throw this rope away now that I’ve got this near home with it. What shall I——” She stopped abruptly. “I’ve got it! I’ll slip it inside the parasol.”

Putting her words into action, she closed the parasol and slipped the coil of rope inside.

Peggy laughed, “That’s a funny-looking parasol, I must say.”

“I don’t care if it is funny. You walk close to me, and I’ll carry the parasol between us. Now, how’s that?”

“All right, I suppose—only I’m sure Felipe is wondering why we’re not carrying it over our heads as we’re supposed to do.”

With an effort to conceal their amusement, they hurried on past Felipe and up to their room.

Quickly snatching the rope from its hiding place, Jo Ann threw it into her trunk and slammed the lid down with a bang.

“There now—I’m glad that much is done,” she remarked with a sigh of satisfaction. “I hope I don’t have as much trouble using this rope as I’ve had getting it.”

Even as she spoke these words she began thinking of the many problems she still had to solve before she could reach the mysterious window. Would she be able to climb the crude scaffold? How would she be able to fasten the rope after she got to the roof? And how could she manage to do all this without being seen?

All through lunch and later that afternoon during the siesta hour these questions kept racing through her mind.

Just as they had done the day before, Florence and Peggy quickly succumbed to the heavy, drowsy stillness. But not Jo Ann. The harder she tried to sleep, the more wide awake she became.

Finally in desperation she got up and sat gazing out of the window. How could she stand this quiet and inaction so long? Glancing down at her watch, she realized it would be at least an hour before Florence and Peggy were awake.

“Even being outdoors in the hot sun’s better than sitting here doing nothing,” she told herself.

No sooner had this thought entered her mind than she decided to go outside and examine the scaffold on the building at the end of the block.

“It’ll take only a few minutes, and I’ll be back before the girls are awake,” she thought.

Quickly she rose and slipped noiselessly out of the room and past the sleeping Felipe at the head of the stairs. Once outside she hastened on around the corner and looked anxiously down the street to the farther end of the block to see if the scaffold were still there.

“Good! It’s there!” she exclaimed to herself the next moment.

Without a thought about the extreme heat she ran down the street to the corner. As she gazed up at the high, crude scaffold made of peeled poles fastened together, a slight tinge of fear passed over her. How high it looked! And what a blank wall it was fastened on! There wasn’t a sign of a window or opening—not even a ledge—to break the smooth, regular surface of the wall.

“That’s the crudest scaffold I’ve ever laid eyes on,” she thought, as she examined the hardwood poles which were fastened to the wall in several places by wooden pegs.

Near the top of the poles she noticed that there was a rough platform from which dangled a long rope with a bucket attached to the end.

“I wonder how the workmen get up to that platform,” she thought.

Going over to the other side of the scaffold she discovered that deep notches had been cut at regular intervals in one of the poles, for footholds. “So this is the way they get up! These notches look awfully far apart, though. I wonder if I could reach them.”

Carefully she pulled herself up to the first notch, and then on to the second and third.

“Sure, I can climb this!” she exulted. “This is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”

Up she climbed to the platform and then scrambled over onto it.

While she was sitting there resting a moment, she was busily examining the rest of the scaffold to see if she could reach the top of the building. She noticed that, although there were no more notches cut in the pole, there was a crosspiece near the top to hold the scaffold in position against the building.

“If I can only reach that crosspiece, I know I can climb up on the roof,” she told herself.

Cautiously she rose and, wrapping her legs and arms around the pole, slowly pulled herself up to the crosspiece; then balancing herself on it she climbed over the edge of the roof.

However, hot as she was, she knew that she had no time to cool off, since the siesta hour was almost over, and the girls would soon be awake.

“I must not get caught again,” she told herself.

She looked hastily around the curious roof, noting with surprise that it resembled a flat cement floor with a low, thick stone wall around it.

“How on earth can I fasten a rope to a roof like this?” she asked herself in dismay. “While I’m up here I’ve just got to see the roof over that mysterious window. If it’s like this, what will I do?”

Hurrying to the division wall, she scrambled over it, only to be confronted by another wall. Undaunted, she climbed over it, and then over still another, till she came in sight of a chimney.

“This must be the chimney of the big fireplace in the kitchen,” she told herself.

Climbing up on the broad outer wall of the roof she peered over, trying to find the position of the mysterious window.

“Why don’t they have window casings or something to show where their windows are?” she thought in disgust.

She lay flat on her stomach and leaned farther out over the edge of the building. Although the hot stones burned her, she kept on persistently examining the surface of the wall below till she made out the outlines of the mysterious opening.

“Whew!” she exclaimed aloud. “I know I’m scorched.”

She sprang down quickly, took a pin out of her hair, and tried to scratch a mark with it on the wall directly in line with the window. To her disgust the hairpin proved to be too frail a tool to have any effect upon the old plaster of the wall. Tossing the pin away, she looked about for some other object with which to mark the spot, but on finding nothing she hurried off toward the scaffold.

“I’ve got to rush, or the girls’ll be awake and miss me,” she told herself as she vaulted the first division wall.

In a surprisingly short time she reached the end of the building. Leaning over the wall, she looked about for the crosspiece on which she must get a foothold before sliding down to the platform below.

The next instant she gasped and drew back. Surely her eyes were deceiving her.

Cautiously she peeped over the wall again. Yes, there on the platform only a few feet beneath her sat a Mexican with a bucket of paint beside him. Just then loud, coarse laughter sounded from the street, and peering down she saw several workmen applauding one of their number who, poised at the bottom of the scaffold, was dramatizing a love scene. Pulling out a piece of white material from his girdle, he pressed it first to his lips, then to his heart, talking rapidly all the time.

Only two words floated up to her—señorita and amor. As the actor waved the white material in response to the applause, an expression of consternation came into Jo Ann’s eyes. That was her handkerchief! She must have dropped it when she was climbing. The señorita of this silly farce was no other than herself.

Horrified, she drew back out of sight. What must she do now? She dared not climb down with those awful men there. If her handkerchief had caused such guffawing, what would happen when they saw her?

Alarmed by these thoughts, she fled back toward the chimney. It would offer a little shelter, at least.

“What a mess I’ve made of things!” she thought as she ran. “Peggy’s right about my curiosity getting me in trouble. I’m in it now.”

Huddling behind the chimney in an effort to hide from the workmen should they come up on the roof, and to escape the direct rays of the sun, she racked her brain for a way to get out of this predicament without disgracing herself.

“I must not do anything that will hurt Florence or her father,” she told herself. “Florence said it would never do for a girl to do anything that’d attract attention in any way. If I were back home and these were American workmen, I wouldn’t have a bit of trouble getting out of this predicament. But down here—! I’d have a time trying to make them understand me. They might think I was crazy or something, but I wouldn’t care if it weren’t for the Blackwells. There must be some way out of this embarrassing situation.”

At the same time that Jo Ann was puzzling over her problem Peggy was arousing from her siesta. With half-opened eyes, she stretched lazily and looked about the room. Florence was beginning to stir, but where was Jo Ann?

“These lazy, quiet hours are hard on a girl of Jo’s temperament,” Peggy mused. “I wonder where she is and what she’s doing?”

The next moment Florence sat up, yawned two or three times, then asked drowsily, “Where’s Jo?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. I just woke up and discovered the bird had flown.”

“Maybe she got tired waiting for us to wake up and went down to the drugstore for a drink. She ought to be back in a few minutes.”

As Florence slipped out of bed she remarked tentatively, “I’ve planned a shopping tour for this afternoon. I thought you’d be interested in seeing some of the souvenirs and drawnwork in the stores.”

“We’d love it,” replied Peggy promptly, rising at once. “I’ll hurry and get ready so we’ll have a long time to shop. I want to get some of those dainty little handkerchiefs like you sent me for my birthday.”

“I’m so glad you like them. The Mexicans really do beautiful handwork, but unless you see something you especially want this afternoon, you’d better wait and get the handkerchiefs directly from the women who make them. They’ll be much cheaper that way.”

A half-hour later Peggy announced proudly, “I’m all ready—how about you? Don’t you think it’s time Jo was back?”

“Yes, I do. I don’t see what’s keeping her. I’ll ask Felipe how long she’s been gone.”

When Florence returned a few minutes later there was a look of bewilderment on her face. “Felipe says he hasn’t seen her,” she announced.

Peggy’s eyes opened wide. “Where do you suppose she can be, then?”

“I’m sure I can’t imagine,” replied Florence, shaking her head dubiously.

“Do you suppose—she surely wouldn’t——”

“What in the world are you talking about?” broke in Florence, seeing the alarm on Peggy’s face.

“I was just wondering if she’d slipped down that back street again. She can’t get that mysterious window out of her mind, you know.”

“That’s so, but, surely, after getting caught yesterday, she wouldn’t risk it again. I’m afraid for her to be in the sun so much when she’s not used to it.”

“Jo doesn’t really mean to do anything that isn’t right,” Peggy defended, “but when she makes up her mind, there’s no stopping her.”

A little frown appeared on Florence’s forehead. “I’m really worried about her going on with this scheme. I don’t see how she can carry it out without being in great danger. Isn’t there some way you could persuade her to give it up?”

“No. She isn’t afraid of anything, and she’s the most determined person I’ve ever seen.”

“Let’s go into Dad’s office and out on his balcony so we can watch for her,” suggested Florence a moment later. “She’ll surely be back in a few minutes.”

“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind,” fumed Peggy. “She ought to know better than to go off that way. Something might happen to her.”

Looking in every direction, the girls were dismayed at seeing no signs of Jo Ann.

“She seems to have disappeared in thin air,” said Peggy anxiously. “Something must be wrong. She wouldn’t stay away this long.”

Almost simultaneously Florence turned her head, listening. “What was that? Didn’t you hear someone whistle?”

The next moment a faint but distinct whistling note sounded.

“That’s Jo’s whistle,” exclaimed Peggy. “But where is she?”

“Here I am!” called a low voice. “Up on the roof.”

“What!” The girls gasped in amazement.

Blankly they stared above them as a red, flushed face, framed with tousled hair, peeped over the edge of the roof.

“What in the world are you doing up there?” called Peggy, finding her tongue.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Jo Ann called down, “but I’m caught and can’t get down.”

“Well, how did you get up there in the first place, and why can’t you get down?”

“I climbed that scaffold—it was easy—but while I was up here the workmen came, and now I can’t get down. It’s hot as the mischief up here in the sun.”

CHAPTER VI
JO ANN’S PREDICAMENT

“What are you going to do?” called Florence. “You’ll be sick if you stay up there in the hot sun all the afternoon.”

“Well, I don’t see anything else to do till the workmen leave,” answered Jo Ann. “If you’ll get me that parasol, it won’t be so bad. There’s a nice breeze, but the sun’s terrific.”

“How in the world do you think we can get the parasol up to you?” asked Peggy. “Do you think we can fly up there with it?”

“Silly! Just get my rope—it’s in my trunk—and throw one end up to me and tie the parasol on the other; then I’ll pull it up.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Peggy admitted. “I’ll run and get it right away.”

She was starting away when Florence put in, “Wait a minute; I’ll go with you. Felipe might be at the door, and we mustn’t let him see the rope. It might rouse his curiosity.”

“Choke him—chloroform him!” called down Jo Ann crisply. “Anything, only get the parasol, qu-i-ck. I’ll be done to a turn if I stay up here much longer without it.”

The two girls hurried on to their room. As soon as Peggy had taken the coil of rope from the trunk, she slipped it inside the parasol, saying, “This is the way we brought the rope into the house without Felipe’s seeing it, so we can do it again.”

As they were entering the hall Felipe stopped them. “Have you found Miss Anita?” he asked, using the Spanish word for Jo Ann’s second name, Annette, rather than the longer name of Josephine.

“Yes, she’s here,” Florence answered quickly, hurrying off.

On reaching the balcony Peggy whistled softly several times, and Jo Ann’s head appeared over the ledge.

“Got it? Fine! Pitch it up to me,” she called in a loud whisper as Florence put her finger to her lips and motioned toward the office.

Straightening out the rope, Peggy tossed one end of it into the air. Up it sailed, then fell dangling over the balcony rail.

“It’s a good thing I had hold of the other end,” she laughed. “This grass rope is so stiff, it won’t go straight.”

“It would if you’d throw it straight,” scoffed Jo Ann. “Coil it up again. I believe it’ll be easier to throw that way and pitch it straight up.”

Obeying directions, Peggy tried again, only to fail once more. Seeing how far Jo Ann was leaning over the wall in her effort to catch the rope, she exclaimed, “Oh, Jo, don’t lean over so far! You make me nervous.”

“Well, it looks as if I’ll have to hang by my feet to catch anything you throw. If you just knew how hot it was up here!”

“Don’t fuss! I’ll try again, but this balcony is so narrow that I can’t swing my arm. Now, ready? Here goes!”

Up sailed the coil of rope, straight into Jo Ann’s outstretched hands.

“Whew! It’s a good thing I didn’t miss again,” gasped Peggy. “That was work, believe me!”

Quickly she fastened the parasol to the lowered end of the rope, and Jo Ann drew it up over the edge of the roof.

Perched on the wall of the roof, high above the city, her feet dangling and the parasol over her head, Jo Ann presented a queer, almost ridiculous appearance, but to Florence and Peggy her position seemed anything but amusing.

So dangerous did it look that Peggy cried out in alarm, “Jo! For goodness’ sake get off that wall! Haven’t you got into enough trouble for one day?”

“Oh, this would be great,” Jo Ann called back, “if the wall weren’t so hot. There’s a gorgeous view and a delightful breeze—what more could you ask for?” She drifted gaily into one of the popular songs of the day.

“How can you joke about anything so serious?” asked Florence in a troubled voice. “Oh, here comes Dad with a patient! We’ll have to leave.”

“I’ll give you the signal as soon as we come back,” Peggy called softly.

Since the office opened with full-length, double doors directly onto the balcony, making it almost a part of the room, they hurried toward the door. Before they reached it, however, they met Dr. Blackwell and a tall, dignified man, who, with true Mexican courtesy, bowed politely and begged their pardon for having disturbed them.

As soon as the two girls were inside the bedroom, Florence asked anxiously, “What are we going to do about Jo Ann? I’m afraid she’ll be sick if she stays up there much longer in that hot sun.”

“I am, too,” Peggy replied, “but I don’t know what on earth we can do. Isn’t there any other possible way except the scaffold that she can get down?”

Florence shook her head.

Every few minutes they stopped talking long enough to peep out to see if the coast were clear. After what seemed a long time to them, they heard voices in the hall, and to their relief they saw Dr. Blackwell and his patient disappear down the stairs. In a few minutes Felipe followed with the bag.

“Except for Juana we have the house to ourselves now,” Florence remarked as they hurried into the office.

On reaching the balcony Peggy gave the signal to Jo Ann.

“I thought you’d never come back,” Jo Ann called down softly almost before the sound had died away. “And I’m dying to tell you something.”

“You don’t have to whisper now,” Florence put in. “Dad and Felipe have gone out, and we can stay here and talk to you without fear of interruption.”

“Fine! Luck seems to be with me at last,” replied Jo Ann. “While I’ve been up here alone, I’ve done some serious thinking, and I have a wonderful plan worked out.”

“It’s about time you did some serious thinking,” returned Peggy.

“I’m sorry I got in this mess, but if you can only get me the things I need, I’ll be standing down there beside you in a jiffy.”

Peggy grinned up at her. “If it’s a sheet for a parachute, I won’t get it.”

“Silly! I want an iron bar and a hammer, or something heavy.”

“You’re not going to drop them on the workmen, are you?” queried Florence with a half smile.

Jo Ann laughed. “I’m really quite harmless, but while I was climbing up here I noticed that the scaffold was held in an upright position by pegs driven into the wall, and that gave me an idea. Why can’t I drive a peg into this wall and fasten the rope to it, and then let myself down to the balcony? Doesn’t that sound simple?”

“Why—yes—it does,” Peggy admitted slowly. “But where’ll we find the iron bar and something heavy enough to drive it with?”

“There ought to be a hammer around here somewhere,” Florence put in quickly. “Come on, and we’ll see if we can find it and the iron bar.”

“If you can’t find an iron bar,” called Jo Ann, “maybe I could use an old broom handle, if you’d make a point on one end of it.”

“All right,” they called as they disappeared into the room.

Entering the kitchen, they found Juana huddled in a chair by the fireplace, asleep.

Slipping by her, Florence took a small hammer out of a cupboard, and handed it to Peggy, saying in a low voice, “Now, if we can find an iron bar, we’ll be fixed.”

Peggy smiled and whispered, “Why, Florence, this is only a little tack hammer. You couldn’t drive anything into a stone wall with this—not in a thousand years.”

“I’m sure that’s the only one we have,” Florence answered in a troubled voice. “You see, since we can’t use nails in this house, we seldom have any use for a hammer.”

Peggy began staring around. “I’ll look and see what I can find.”

“Sh!” warned Florence. “Let’s not wake Juana if we can help it.”

Together they slipped quietly about the room, picking up first one object and then another, only to lay it down again in disgust.

At the very moment that Peggy spied something that would do, Juana opened her eyes and asked in Spanish, “What is it, Florencita? Do you wish me to make you the merienda?”

“Why—no, we don’t care for anything to eat now,” Florence replied slowly. “But we would like to have something to drink. Please go down to the drugstore and get some limeades.” She turned to Peggy. “I’ve ordered limeades. I know Jo’d like to have a cold drink.”

The minute Juana disappeared through the door, Peggy stepped over to the middle section of the fireplace. “Here’s the very thing,” she said, picking up one of the stones Juana used to set her earthen griddle on when cooking on the fireplace. “And look here,” she added excitedly, “Here’s a piece of iron—the very thing we need. Now let’s hurry. I know Jo’s tired waiting.”

“How silly of me not to think of these things!” exclaimed Florence. “Juana uses that piece of iron to poke her fire with. Let’s hope she doesn’t decide to make tortillas any time soon, or she’ll miss the stone.”

Together they rushed out into the hall, then stopped on catching a glimpse of Felipe at his post just outside the office door.

“What in the world is he doing back?” whispered Peggy as she stopped. “Is Dr. Blackwell in his office, do you suppose?”

Slipping into the dining room, they stared blankly at each other. How could they get the things to Jo Ann now?

“I know what we can do!” exclaimed Florence, running to the china closet. “Put the stone on this plate.” She placed a plate on the table. “Now I’ll spread a napkin over it; then it’ll look as if you’re carrying a plate of sandwiches out on the balcony. I’ll hide the piece of iron under my dress, like this.”

“Fine!” approved Peggy, her lips curving into a wide smile.

On entering the hall Felipe appeared and explained that el doctor had sent him back to take the young ladies for a drive, as he would not need the car for one or two hours.

“I’ll ask the girls and let you know,” Peggy replied in Spanish, and added, “Call me when Juana brings the limeades.”

Peggy hastened onto the balcony and, resting the plate on the rail, whistled twice. As Jo peeped down from above, she called up gaily, her eyes twinkling, “Just see the plate of sandwiches I’ve brought you. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Well—yes, I could enjoy a sandwich,” Jo Ann replied, trying to cover her disappointment, “but didn’t you get any of the other things I asked for?”

“This is all we could find.” Laughing mischievously, Peggy lifted the napkin.

“Oh, Peg, you big tease!” Jo Ann exclaimed. “I might have known you were up to some mischief. Didn’t you bring the piece of iron or a broomstick?”

“Here it is,” called Florence, slipping the piece of iron out and holding it up.

“That’s the very thing—but why all the secrecy?”

“Well, Felipe was at the door, so I thought we’d better use this camouflage.”

“I see. I’ll let my rope down now; but how in the world are you going to fasten the rock to it, Peggy?”

“I don’t know,” Peggy replied thoughtfully. “Even if I tie the rope around it a couple of times, it’s likely to fall out, and a stone as large as this is heavy enough to kill anyone if it should hit him on the head.” She gave a little sudden start. “I know what to do!”

Spreading the napkin on the floor and placing the stone in the exact center, she picked up the opposite corners of the napkin and tied a tight square knot; then tied another one with the other corners. When she had slipped the rope under both securely, she heard Felipe coming in the office door.

She sprang to her feet while Florence ran into the office to keep him from coming onto the balcony.

“I’ll take the limeades, Felipe,” she told him, taking the tray he was carrying.

Instead of leaving immediately he lingered a moment to ask how long it would be before they would be ready to go for a drive.

For a few seconds she hesitated, then replied, “I think they’ll be ready in about half an hour.” Jo Ann had seemed so sure she could get down, but maybe—— “If they’re not ready by that time, I’ll let you know.”

As soon as he had left the office Florence hastened back to the balcony. By that time Jo Ann had successfully pulled the stone up to the roof and had lowered the rope for the iron bar.

The moment she had the piece of iron in her hands, she hopped off the low wall and eagerly set to work. Kneeling on the flat surface of the roof, she held the iron bar firmly against the inside of the wall with her left hand and struck it a heavy blow with the stone.

The next instant the iron bar sprang back, knocking the stone out of her hand and striking her foot a glancing blow.

“Oh—my foot!” she cried in muffled tones, hopping around the roof on the other foot.

“I can’t stop for a little thing like this,” she decided shortly, setting resolutely to work again.

Less confident of her success, she struck the iron lightly and carefully this time, but without making the slightest impress in the wall. Driving a peg into a stone wall was not the simple thing she had imagined it to be.

“I know it can be done, and I’m going to do it,” she told herself determinedly. “If I can only find the seam between the stones, I know I can drive it into the mortar.”

After slowly chipping the plaster away over a foot or more in diameter, she found an upright seam. Her arms ached from the unusual strain; her hands and face were covered with grime and plaster dust; and perspiration trickled down her face, streaking it.

Nevertheless, she worked on persistently and at last found the cross-seam. Eagerly placing the bar in position, she began driving it into the mortar between the stones. She struck it very carefully at first, then harder and harder.

“No wonder these houses last forever,” she thought. “I never saw anything so hard in my life. This one’ll stand here several centuries more and not show the least signs of wear.”

With a last effort she struck the iron several more blows; then, putting her whole weight on it to test its strength, she heaved a sigh of relief. It did not budge a particle. Fastening the rope securely, she threw the end over the wall. Everything was ready now.

While waiting for Florence and Peggy to return with the implements, she had tied several knots in the rope and made two loops near the upper end, and now, lying flat, she peered over the edge of the wall to see if the loops came in exactly the right place, just over the edge of the roof.

“All set! Here I come!” she called joyously to the girls waiting below.

“Oh, Jo, do be careful! You might fall,” urged Florence.

So intent was Jo Ann in getting over the edge of the roof that she paid no attention to Florence’s warning. Climbing over a wall two feet or more thick was quite a different proposition from getting over a board fence. She could not back off, and the smooth plaster offered a poor fingerhold while she was catching the loops in the rope.

Finally, sitting on the edge of the wall, she leaned forward and reached for the upper loop. Grasping the loop firmly with one hand and pressing the fingers of her other hand against the plaster, she stretched her foot toward the other loop. But when within an inch or two of it, she suddenly slipped off the wall.

She gasped in terror. Down she dropped. Her arm felt as if it surely would be pulled from its socket as the entire weight of her body jerked on it. Could she hang with one hand? What if the sudden jerk should pull the rope loose from the peg? Desperately she clung to the loop. Then, regaining her balance, she wrapped her legs around the rope. Slowly, carefully she slipped from knot to knot. Four strong young arms caught her before her feet touched the floor of the balcony.

“Oh, Jo! Jo! I thought you’d be killed, sure,” cried Florence, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so frightened!”