Darrin didn't hear, though a moment later he halted, glancing about him and back at his chum.

Prescott was beckoning.
"He has darted in somewhere on this block," muttered Dick, as his chum reached him.
"Yes," Dave agreed; "but where ?" "That's too much for us to guess." "What are we going to do about it ?" "I don't know," Dick confessed disappointedly.

"I hate to see Mr.Fits slip away from us like this, though." "Well, he has done it, anyway," Dave declared.

"I'm afraid there isn't much that we can do now." "We can go down to the next corner, and back on the other side," Dick Prescott proposed.

"Look back frequently, Dave, and, if you see Mr.Fits dart out of any house or doorway, then yell to me, and we'll both turn and race after the fellow." "A nice sprinter you'll make, after that knock down blow on the chest," remarked Darrin dryly.
"Oh, I'm getting a little more wind back every minute," Dick declared cheerily.