from Keudell's bobbing head. The second shot splintered one of the hardwood banister spindles. And she did not stop for another, for by this time she realized her pursuer was at least not gaining on her.
She was almost at the top of the second flight before that pursuer reached its bottom step. Facing her on the landing above, she caught sight of a white enamel high-boy on which stood a pewter tray whereon were arrayed a row of drinking glasses, a soda-siphon and a collection of empty beer bottles. With one quick jerk, as she reached the landing, she swung this laden high-boy out from the wall. A second push sent it crashing and careening down the stairway, gathering speed as it went.
But she did not stop to determine the result of that catapulting descent. She rounded the banister and made for the next floor, swung about to the last stairway and found herself at the top of the house, confronted by a door which proved to be locked. This door, she felt, would surely lead toward the roof. So after a second ineffectual tug at its knob she stood back, fired one quick shot into its lock and swung it open to the sound of falling metal.
