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.
He was a fat German and he paused in the middle of the street, wildly waving his arms and crying in despairing tones:
"Ach Gott! I vos robbed! Dey shtole mein horse und vagon!"
The Bradys started off on a run after the vehicle.