Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 104: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a sta ia ene . : py ae as fe = A te a ahs i eei> Mes Xf * ps ~ Mheside hit, drew it up so that he could reach the eighth rung. To this rung he made fast his rope, then lowered the ladder again until the upper end of it was~in line with the window through which he sought to introduce it. But he found it impossible to do so beyond the fifth rung, for at this point the end of the ladder came in contact with the roof inside, and could be pushed no os . : further until it was inclined downward./ Now, the only possible way to accomplish this was by raising the other end. It occurred to him that he might, by so attaching the rope as to bring the ladder across the window-frame, lower himself hand ever hand to the floor of the attic. But in so doing he must have left the ladder there to show their pursuers in the morning, not merely the way they had gone, but for all he knew at this stage, the place where _ they might then be still in hiding, Having come so far, at so much risk and labour, he was.détermined to leave nothing to chance. To accomplish his object then, he made his way down to the very edge of the roof, sliding carefully on his stomach until his feet found support against the marble gutter, the ladder meanwhile remaining hooked by one of its rungs to the sill of the dormer. In that perilous position he lifted his end of the ladder a few inches, and so contrived to thrust it another -foot or so through the window, whereby its weight was considerably diminished. If he could but get it another couple of feet farther in he was sure that by returning to the dormer he would have been able to complete the job. In his anxiety to do this and to obtain the necessary elevation, he raised himself upon his knees. But in the very act of making the thrust he slipped, and, clutch- ing wildly as he went, he shot over the edge of the roof. He found himself hanging there, suspended above that terrific abyss by his hands and his elbows, which had convulsively hooked themselves on to the edge of the gutter, so that he had it on a level with his breast. It was a moment of dread the like of which he was never likely to endure again in a life that was to know many perils and many hairbreadth escapes. He could not write of it nearly half a century later without shuddering and growing sick with horror, A momegt he hung there gasping, then almost mechanically, guided by the sheer instinct of self-preservation, he not merely at- - : od - ra ~ pe ‘ . * Lo ae ers ae * Ca ES ayy A a pee ieee et | RAFAEL SABATINE Sys ee } | comicbooks (eo)