"That's so; you have. Don't lose them now. We'll run him down yet. Won't Mr. Sparling be pleased?"
"I reckon he will. But we have got to catch the cat first before we can please anybody. I wonder how we're going to do it?"
"We shall see about that later."
The boys started on a trot, holding their torches close to the ground. Their course took them about on another street leading at right angles to the one they had been following.
All at once they seemed to have lost the trail. Before them stood a handsome house, set well back in a green lawn. The house was lighted up, and evidently some kind of an entertainment was going on within.
"He's gone over in some of these yards," breathed Phil. "Let's take the place that's lighted up, first. He'd be more likely to go where there is life. He—"
Phil's words were cut short by a shriek of terror from the lighted house followed by another and another.
"He's there! Come on!"
Both boys vaulted the fence and ran to the front door. By this time shriek upon shriek rent the air. The lads burst into the house without an instant's hesitation.
"Upstairs!" cried Phil, bounding up three steps at a time.