Then a dull bump, then a double crash and such a cursing as
left no doubt that the second fellow had fallen plumb on top of the
first. Also from his language I fancied he would survive the fall.
But Raffles took no peep at his handiwork; hardly had the rope whipped
out at my feet than he had untied the other end.
"Like lamplighters, Bunny!"
And back we went helter-skelter along the valleys of lead and over the
hills of tile.... The noise in the kitchen died away as we put a roof or
two between us and that of Burroughs and Burroughs.
"This is where I came out," I called to Raffles as he passed the place.
"There's a ladder here where I left it in the loft!"
"No time for ladders!" cried Raffles over his shoulder, and not for some
moments did he stop in his stride. Nor was it I who stopped him then; it
was a sudden hubbub somewhere behind us, somewhere below; the blowing of
a police whistle, and the sound of many footsteps in the square.
"That's for us!" I gasped. "The ladder! The ladder!"
"Ladder be damned!" returned Raffles, roughly. "It isn't for us at all;
it's my pal the V.C. who has come home and bottled the other blighters."
"Thinking they're thieves?"
"Thinking any rot you like! Our course is over the rest of the roofs on
this side, over the whole lot at the top end, and, if possible, down the
last staircase in the corner.
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