"He did?" cried Mrs. Martin. "Why, how strange! Did he say anything to you?"
"No, I wasn't near enough, but I thought it queer."
"It is queer," agreed Mrs. Martin. "I wonder who he was, and if he is in sight now?"
She ran down the steps and hurried around the corner to look down the next street. But no boy, lame or not, was in sight.
"Maybe he was just playing a trick," said the man. "Though he didn't look like that kind of boy."
"No, I think it was no trick," answered the mother of the Curlytops, as she went back into the house.
"What was it?" asked Nora.
"A lame boy, but he ran away after ringing," answered Mrs. Martin. "I wonder if it could have been the boy who was at Mr. Martin's store, and who might know something about the stolen pocketbook, even if he did not take it. Perhaps he came to tell us something about it and, at the last minute, he was too frightened and ran away."
She told this to Mr. Martin when he came home, and he said it might be so.
"If it is," he went on, "that lame boy must be in town somewhere. I'd like to find him. I'll speak to the police. The poor boy may be in trouble."