place of his captivity
several hundred yards behind. He looked back then and listened.
Apparently he had distanced pursuit, for no sounds of pattering feet
came to his ears and he caught no glimpse of the two Chinese who had
acted so strangely.

At any rate he was free,--though he did not know where he was; the
streets down which he had been running were deserted; the houses were of
brick tenement structure and stood close together. He went on at a swift
walk, turning every few steps to look over his shoulder, and presently
he came to a building which he recognized. It was the market that faced
Stanley Square in Greensboro, a yellow brick building with a tall tower
and a clock. As Teeny-bits gazed upward, trying to read the position of
the hour hand in the half-light of the street lamps, the big timepiece
boomed out two strokes. It was two o'clock.

Teeny-bits turned south along Walnut Street in the direction of
Hamilton. When he had attended the high school in Greensboro he had gone
twice each day on his bicycle over the four miles of road between the
village and the bustling young city. He now set out at a swift walk, and
as soon as he had passed the outskirts of Greensboro, he jogged along at
a pace that kept him warm, in spite of his scanty attire and the nipping
air.

Twice, while still on the city streets, he had passed belated
pedestrians and once he had glimpsed a policeman under a street lamp. He
had not paused, however, for his one desire was to get home and to
discover if his father had been injured. It had occurred to him that
perhaps he should report his experience to the police, but the thought
then came to him that they might detain him,--and the one thing that he
wanted now was freedom. So he went on swiftly toward Hamilton and before
three o'clock was approaching the house that he had always known as
home. All of the windows were dark,--a reassuring sign. If anything
terrible had happened, surely there would be a light in the house.

Teeny-bits went round to the rear and tried the kitchen windows till he
found that one was unlocked. Cautiously he let himself in; he did not
intend to waken father and mother Holbrook unless there was evidence
that something had happened. The kitchen was warm, and the cat, which
always slept in a chair beside the woodbox, jumped down softly to the
floor and came over to rub her body against his leg. Teeny-bits reached
down and stroked the cat's soft coat; somehow, the