Back over the trail he led his good old pal.

And for other later churchgoers there were the shrill voices of friendly children to tell what had happened--to appeal confidently to Merton, vaguely ahead in the twilight, to confirm their interesting story.
Dexter, the anarchist, was put to bed without his goodnight kiss.

Good old Pinto had done his pal dirt.

Never again would he be given a part in Buck Benson's company.

Across the alley came the voices of tired, happy children, in the appeal for an encore.