Though the blaze was a bad one it had been taken in time, thanks to the prompt pulling of the box, and so the firemen after considerable hard work succeeded in getting control of the fire. Thinking he had seen enough, though he would have liked to remain until the finish, Larry started for home. Pretty soon he left the crowd behind him, and entered a quiet street. In fact it was so quiet that Larry soon became aware that some person was walking behind him. He could hear the echo of the footsteps after his own, and, naturally, he turned to see who was following him. He could just make out the dark figure of a man. At first the boy was a little nervous, fearing someone might be dogging him for no good purpose. He had heard that men would commit robbery for a small sum, and, though he only had a little change in his pockets, he was a little afraid that the man had an object in keeping so closely behind him. “I wish I’d meet a policeman,” thought Larry. But, like many other things, officers are not on hand when you want one most. “I wish I could see who it is,” murmured the boy. He turned around again, and caught sight of the man just as the latter came under a street lamp. Larry gave a start. “It’s the man who has the rooms under us!” said Larry. “He isn’t following me; he’s just going home, the same as I am.” He felt a sense of relief at this and quickened his pace. He turned a corner, near a dark building, where the shadows were gloomy, and, as he did so, a man stepped from the doorway. “Is that you?” the stranger asked in a low tone. Larry did not know what to reply. At that moment the man caught a glimpse of him, and muttering a hasty “Beg pardon,” he slunk back into the darkness. Larry hurried on, and, a few seconds later, looking back, he saw the man again come from the shadows and join the fellow who lived below the Dexter apartments, and who had been following our hero. “Two of ’em,” murmured the boy. “I think they must be up to something, but I hope they’re not after me.” Almost unconsciously Larry quickened his pace, and a little later he found himself at the apartment house where he lived. The men were nowhere in sight, and Larry concluded they had either delayed on the road or else that he had walked much faster than they had. No one was up as he let himself into the small flat with his latchkey. His mother called to him from her bedroom to tell him there were some crackers and milk in the cupboard, as Larry was often hungry when he came in. “And look out for tacks in your room, Larry,” his mother went on. “I took the carpet up in there to-day to clean it.” “All right, mother,” replied the boy. He ate a light lunch, and prepared for bed. He heard the persons living on the floor below enter their apartment, and then began that curious roaring sound again. “I’d like to know what that is,” Larry murmured to himself. “It’s queer they should be carrying on some sort of business and only at night.”