"Which way were they going—in the same direction?"
"No. Bob ran up the street as though the police were after him."
"Then Mr. Dardus was chasing him," suggested Foster, jumping at the conclusion that Bob and his guardian had had angry words, that the boy had run away, and that his guardian had gone in pursuit.
"No, he wasn't. He came out about twenty minutes after Bob had gone, and went in the opposite direction."
This response puzzled the reporter, as he could think of no plausible explanation, but his thoughts were diverted by the old woman, who demanded:
"What's wrong, mister?"
"What makes you think there is anything wrong?" parried Foster, determined, if possible, to keep the knowledge of Bob's arrest from so evident a neighborhood gossip.
"Because Len Dardus closed his store on a Saturday. I've been living here thirty years, and he has never done such a thing before, but once, and that was twelve years ago, the day he brought Bob back with him. So I know that it must be something important, or the old man wouldn't lose the opportunity to make a few cents in his store."
Struck by the coincidence that it was because
