Why had Miss Royle, sly reptile that she was, scuttled away without so much as a good-by?
"Oh, dear!" sighed Gwendolyn; "just as soon as one trouble's finished, another one starts!"
"We must get on her track!" declared the Policeman, patroling to and fro anxiously.
"And let's hurry," urged the Man-Who-Makes-Faces. "It's coming night in the City. And all these lights'll be needed soon."
Very soon, indeed. For even as he spoke it happened—with a sharp click. Instantly the pink glow was blotted out. As suddenly thick blackness shut down.
Except straight ahead! There Gwendolyn made out an oblong patch of sky in which were a few dim stars.
"Never mind," went on the little old gentleman, soothingly. "Because we're close to the place where there's light all the time."
"All the time?" repeated Gwendolyn, surprised.
"It's where light grows."
"Grows?"