"Now, that we're getting away from the main street there'll be far less
chance of finding a police officer," sighed Jack, at last wholly
discontented with luck.

Millard led without, apparently, ever thinking to glance back. He
turned a second corner, into another small street, and kept on.

"This is getting more exciting," muttered the young trailer. "Yet all
signs point to the fact that I've got to make the grab all by myself.
I wonder if I can down that chap and get the upper hand of him? I don't
mind a thumping, but I'd be sadly ashamed of myself to let the fellow
get away from me."

Millard was walking briskly, now. Next, he turned sharply to the left.

"Ah!" Then Jack Benson shot swiftly forward on tip-toe, trying to make
no noise as he ran.

For the long-legged one had, to all seeming, at the distance, wheeled
and gone through the wall of a brick building.

Just an instant later, however, this impossible feat was explained. The
submarine boy found himself at the street-end of a narrow alley between
two brick buildings.

"He has gone into the rear house, at the end of the alleyway," decided
Benson, peering down this narrow thoroughfare. "He has left the door
partly open, too. I'll have to have a look-in."