"Escaped!" repeated the policeman, who entered at the moment with two comrades; "impossible! I tied 'im so that no efforts of his own could avail 'im. Somebody _must_ 'ave 'elped 'im." "The carving-knife helped him," said Miss Stivergill, with a look of dignity.--"Perhaps, instead of speculating how he escaped, policeman, it would be better to pursue him. He can't be very far off, as it is not twenty minutes since he cut himself free." In a state of utter bewilderment the policeman rushed out of the cottage, followed by his comrades and the agriculturists. Peter Pax essayed to go with them, but was restrained by an iron grip on his collar. Pulling him back, Miss Stivergill dragged her captive into a parlour and shut the door. "Come now, little Pax," she said, setting the boy in a chair in front of her, "you needn't try to deceive _me_. I'd know you among a thousand in any disguise. If you were to blacken your face with coal-tar an inch thick your impertinence would shine through. You know that the burglar is little Bones's father; you've a pretty good guess that I let him off. You have come here for some purpose in connection with him. Come--out with it, and make a clean breast." Little Pax did make a clean breast then and there, was washed white, supped and slept at The Rosebud, returned to town next day by the first train, and had soon the pleasure of informing Tottie that the intended burglary had been frustrated, and that her father wasn't "took" after all. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. SHOWS HOW ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER, AND SO ON. It is a mere truism to state that many a chain of grave and far-reaching events is set in motion by some insignificant trifle. The touching of a trigger by a child explodes a gun which extinguishes a valuable life, and perhaps throws a whole neighbourhood into difficulties. The lighting of a match may cause a conflagration which shall "bring down" an extensive firm, some of whose dependants, in the retail trade, will go down along with it, and cause widespreading distress, if not ruin, among a whole army of greengrocers, buttermen, and other small fry. The howling of a bad baby was the comparatively insignificant event which set going a certain number of wheels, whose teeth worked into the cogs which revolved in connection with our tale. The howling referred to awoke a certain contractor near Pimlico with a start, and caused him to rise off what is popularly known as the "wrong side." Being an angry man, the contractor called the baby bad names, and would have whipped it had it been his own. Going to his office before breakfast with the effects of the howl strong upon him, he met a humble labourer there with a surly "Well, what do you want?"