He slipped it into his pocket, nonchalantly.
"All evidence!" he said. "Keep in the shadow and bend down. I
am going to stand on your shoulders and get into that window!"
Wondering at his daring, I nevertheless obeyed; and Harley
succeeded, although not without difficulty, in achieving his
purpose. A moment after he had disappeared in the blackness of
the room above.
"Stand clear, Knox!" I heard.
Two of the cushion seats sometimes called "poof-ottomans" were
thrown down, and:
"Up you come!" called Harley. "I'll grasp your hands if you can
reach."
It proved no easy task, but I finally managed to scramble up
beside my friend--to find myself in a dark and stuffy little
room.
"This way!" said Harley rapidly--"upstairs."
He led the way without more ado, but it was with serious
misgivings that I stumbled up a darkened stair in the rear of my
greatly daring friend.
A pistol cracked in the darkness--and my fez was no longer on my
head!
Harley's repeater answered, and we stumbled through a heavily
curtained door into a heated room, the air of which was laden
with some Eastern perfume. In the dim light from a silken-shaded
lantern a figure showed, momentarily, darting across the place
before us.
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