As the others came in, glancing curiously about them and noting the still smouldering fire and the evidences of recent occupation, the detective unlatched the French window and stepped out into the snow that covered the roof of the little porch below.

Arthur sprang out beside him, leaving the rest to shiver in the cold blast that rushed in upon them from the open window.
Fogerty, on his knees, scanned the snow carefully, and although Weldon could discover no sign of a footprint the young detective nodded his head sagaciously and slowly made his way to the trellis at the end.

Here it was plain that the accumulation of snow had recently been brushed away from the frail framework.

"It was strong enough to hold her, though," declared Fogerty, looking over the edge of the roof.

"I'll descend the same way, sir.