"Yes," Dave agreed; "but where?"
"That's too much for us to guess."
"What are we going to do about it?"
"I don't know," Dick confessed disappointedly. "I hate to see Mr. Fits slip away from us like this, though."
"Well, he has done it, anyway," Dave declared. "I'm afraid there isn't much that we can do now."
"We can go down to the next corner, and back on the other side," Dick Prescott proposed. "Look back frequently, Dave, and, if you see Mr. Fits dart out of any house or doorway, then yell to me, and we'll both turn and race after the fellow."
"A nice sprinter you'll make, after that knock down blow on the chest," remarked Darrin dryly.
"Oh, I'm getting a little more wind back every minute," Dick declared cheerily. "I could run, now, if I had to, and in two minutes from now I'll be able to do a whole lot better. Come along. You do the turning to look backward, and I'll use my eyes in front of us."
In this fashion they explored the entire block on both sides. Their slow, thorough search at last brought them back to Main Street, much puzzled and not a little discouraged.
"What now?" inquired Dave.