"Yes, sir."

The police began pounding on the front doors just as the Bradys rushed out
into the rear yard.

Just as they emerged. Harry saw the figure of Jean disappearing over the
back fence and pointing at it, he cried excitedly:

"There they go!"

"After them!" roared Old King Brady.

They rushed across the yard.

Over the fence they climbed like a couple of cats, and leaping into the
yard of an adjoining tenement, they ran for the hall.

Blood spots on the flags left a plain trail.

The wounded men had dropped it in their flight, and the detectives easily
traced the stains through the hall into the street.

Hearing wild yells, they saw a baker's wagon dashing along at a furious
gallop, and saw Clara and her friends in it.

The owner of the wagon was racing out of his store.

A small boy had told him that a gang had stolen his horse and wagon and it
was his yells the detectives heard.