Doc Cling to Wall

With silent speed, Doc was over the roof edge. Even a bat, master of clinging to smooth surfaces, would have had trouble with the wall. Grooves between the bricks furnished the only handholds. Doc's steel-strong bronze fingers found the largest of these.

At the window, there was no perch. But Doc hung by little more than his finger tips. His tireless sinews could support him thus for hours.

A shade had been drawn on the other side of the window. But it was old and cracked. One of these cracks let Doc look into the room.

- The Land of Terror (1933) Chapter 4