“Say, I don’t like these sweetness and light lectures,” Jack said, his suspicions reviving. “Why’d you pick me up anyhow? You ain’t a plainclothes detective?”
“No, Jack.”
“You know my name!”
“Yes, Jack, we do. You’re a runaway from the Child Study Institute.”
Mr. Holloway now felt fairly safe in revealing his knowledge, for the station wagon approached the Institute.
As he pulled alongside the gray stone building, his young passenger recognized the familiar structure.
“You tricked me!” he shouted furiously.
His elbow gouging Dan, he tried to push open the car door.
“Let me out of here!” he cried.
“No, Jack!” Mr. Hatfield said, holding him firmly by the arm. “You ran away and you must be returned here. I’m sorry.”