Knotted to it was a stout cord, and in the knot was a small piece of paper, rolled cigarette fashion.

Pete untied the knot; he dropped his coil of fishline out of the window, first securing the stronger cord by a turn round his hand lest he should inadvertently drop that as well; he held the paper to the light, and read the message: Waiting for you, with car, two blocks north.

Destroy MS.
Pete pulled up the cord, hand over hand, and was presently rewarded by a small hacksaw, eminently suited for cutting bars; he drew in the slack again and this time came to the end of the cord, to which was fastened a strong rope.

He drew this up noiselessly and laid the coils on the floor.
Then he penciled a note, in turn: Clear out.

Will join you later.
He tied this missive on his cord, together with the cigar clipper, and lowered them from the window.