"And now, off we go," said Billy, thrusting Barker into his pocket and jumping up into the air. [Illustration: _Barker in Trouble._] Now it is hard to say just exactly how it happened--whether Barker slipped out of Billy's pocket, or just climbed out, thinking that he too could float in the air, I do not know. At any rate the first thing Billy knew there was a sharp jerk on the string that Barker was tied to--a frightened yelp, and there was doggie being dragged up and up through the air by his collar. Of course it did not take Billy a minute to haul Barker up to him and to catch him in his arms; but even then it was none too soon, for in another moment there would have been no more Barker. "Poor old fellow," cried Billy, snuggling him up in his arms. "Your dog days were nearly ended that time, weren't they?" And he was still soothing and patting Barker when his feet crashed through a jungle of blades and stalks, and he found himself in an enormous corn field. He looked about him, and saw dimly ahead through the corn a factory building; at least he took it for this, for he could hear the distant hum of machinery and the churn-churn-churn of an engine. "Now I wonder where I am," said Billy, beginning to walk toward the factory. "Stop--or you are a dead man--or boy," said a voice at his side. [Illustration: _Snawksnaw, the Boy Detecative._] Turning, Billy found himself looking down the barrel of a cap pistol. But not being particularly interested in what he saw there, he looked further and discovered the face of its owner. On his head was a very, very large wig of raveled rope, and attached to his chin by large elastic bands that ran over his ears was a heavily matted blue beard. Following the beard to its end, Billy's eyes traveled on down to a large tin star. "Who are you?" asked Billy in surprise. "Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative," cried the boy, pulling off beard and wig with one sweep of his hand, and folding his arms dramatically. "What do you detect?" asked Billy. "Hist!" said the boy, again putting on the wig and beard, and pointing the cap pistol at him. "Hist! I detect crime, but move not or I will be-low your be-rains out." "Is that a disguise?" asked Billy, pointing to the boy detective's hair and beard. "It is, and a perfect one. Who would ever guess that Snawksnaw, the famous boy detecative, and this bearded ruffian were one and the same person? This is my favorite transform." "But why did you get a blue beard?" "Ah-ha! that is the completest part of the disguise; for though they might guess that I would raise a black beard or a yellow one or a red one, _who_ would think that I could raise a blue one?" Then scowling terribly, he hissed, "Are you one of them?" "One of whom?" asked Billy. "One of the party of desperate men that inhabit yon fair but foul factory?" "Of course not; I've just arrived."