"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 of Bob the grocer had at
both times shut up his store, Foster considered for a few moments what
it was best to do, and then said with ever so faint a smile: