himself from running away. His father started to push him out of his path.
"I'm the boy," Peewee croaked.
He saw his father stiffen and stare down at him, then swiftly bend. He felt him seize him and twist him about so that the street lamp lighted his face. Markyn raised his head and looked up and down the street to see who had come with him. Peewee waited, his eyes closed, his body weak with his not understandable feelings resting against his father's arm.
Dry sounds, whose meaning he could not determine, came from his father's throat.
"I ran away from him," Peewee started to explain.
He was not able however to say anything more, for Markyn in his excitement at getting possession of the boy, appeared to think of nothing else. He breathed deeply. Suddenly he clutched Peewee's hand and began to hurry him along the street.
Peewee had difficulty in making his legs obey instructions.
