“Nobody around,” he reported. “I opened all of the doors and windows as I went-all except this one.” He stepped to the window opposite the one through which he had recently fallen and thrust back the drapes.
He saw a man with his back toward him, four rooms away. Teal snatched open the French window and dived through it, shouting, “There he goes now! Stop thief!”
The figure evidently heard him; it fled precipitately. Teal pursued, his gangling limbs stirred to unanimous activity, through drawing room, kitchen, dining room, lounge-room after room, yet in spite of Teal’s best efforts he could not seem to cut down the four-room lead that the interloper had started with.
He saw the pursued jump awkwardly but actively over the low sill of a French window and in so doing knock off his hat. When he came up to the point where his quarry had lost his headgear, he stopped and picked it up, glad of an excuse to stop and catch his breath. He was back in the lounge.
“I guess he got away from me,” he admitted. “Anyhow, here’s his hat. Maybe we can identify him.”
Bailey took the hat, looked at it, then snorted, and slapped it on Teal’s head. It fitted perfectly. Teal looked puzzled, took the hat off, and examined it. On the sweat band were the initials “Q.T.” It was his own.
Slowly comprehension filtered through Teal’s features. He went back to the French window and gazed down the series of rooms through which he had pursued the mysterious stranger. They saw him wave his arms semaphore fashion. “What are you doing?” asked Bailey.
“Come see.” The two joined him and followed his stare with their own. Four rooms away they saw the backs of three figures, two male and one female. The taller, thinner of the men was waving his arms in a silly fashion.
Mrs. Bailey screamed and fainted again.
Some minutes later, when Mrs. Bailey had been resuscitated and somewhat composed, Bailey and Teal took stock. “Teal,” said Bailey, “I won’t waste any time blaming you; recriminations are useless and I’m sure you didn’t plan for this to happen, but I suppose you realize we are in a pretty serious predicament. How are we going to get out of here? It looks now as if we would stay until we starve; every room leads into another room.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad. I got out once, you know.”
“Yes, but you can’t repeat it-you tried.”
“Anyhow we haven’t tried all the rooms. There’s still the study.”
“Oh, yes, the study. We went through there when we first came in, and didn’t stop. Is it your idea that we might get out through its windows?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Mathematically, it ought to look into the four side rooms on this floor. Still we never opened the blinds; maybe we ought to look.”
” ‘Twon’t do any harm anyhow. Dear, I think you had best just stay here and rest-”
“Be left alone in this horrible place? I should say not!” Mrs. Bailey was up off the couch where she had been recuperating even as she spoke.
They went upstairs. “This is the inside room, isn’t it, Teal?” Bailey inquired as they passed through the master bedroom and climbed on up toward the study. “I mean it was the little cube in your diagram that was in the middle of the big cube, and completely surrounded.”
“That’s right,” agreed Teal. “Well, let’s have a look. I figure this window ought to give into the kitchen.” He grasped the cords of Venetian blinds and pulled them.
It did not. Waves of vertigo shook them. Involuntarily they fell to the floor and grasped helplessly at the pattern on the rug to keep from falling. “Close it! Close it!” moaned Bailey.
Mastering in part a primitive atavistic fear, Teal worked his way back to the window and managed to release the screen. The window had looked down instead of out, down from a terrifying height.
Mrs. Bailey had fainted again.
Teal went back after more brandy while Bailey chafed her wrists. When she had recovered, Teal went cautiously to the window and raised the screen a crack. Bracing his knees, he studied the scene. He turned to Bailey. “Come look at this, Homer. See if you recognize it.”