He thumped his chest lightly, taking deep breaths.
Dick was in the studio now.
Close to the window, where the draught was strongest, Prescott found the smoke so thick that he had to grope his way through it; but bending low, he quickly came to where Grace Dodge lay unconscious on the floor.
She looked lifeless, as she lay there.
"Whew! I'm afraid she's a goner, already!" thought Dick, with a great surge of compassion.
However, seizing the unconscious girl by the shoulders he dragged her swiftly over the floor to the window through which he had come.
The rope still dangled there.
Seizing it, Dick gave it a gentle pull---not too hard, for fear the jerk might catch good old Dave of his guard and yank him over the roof's edge.
In another instant Darrin was "back on the job," peering down.
Dick made a signal that Dave understood perfectly.
Prescott's next care was to knot his end of the rope swiftly around Grace's body, above the waist, adjusting the coils so that considerable of the strain would come under the shoulders, where it could best be borne.
Once more Dick leaned out of the window, making motions.

Dave Darrin nodded.

The fascinated crowd in the street looked up, breathless.

Few now even thought to wonder why the fire department did not appear.
At Dave's command the others on the roof with him began to hoist.
Slowly, Dick aided Grace's body through the window.

Then the girl, motionless, so far as she herself was concerned, swung in the air, slowly ascending.
Now groans of horror went up from the street.