I started down Barrel Alley, watching the mud along the edge of the sidewalk, so I could tell if the fellow left the sidewalk to go into one of the houses. Barrel Alley is a blind alley—that means it has an end to it and you can’t go any further. It runs plunk into the end of Shad Row. Norris Row is the right name, but old man Norris is named Shadley Norris, so us fellows call it Shad Row. You can get through the end of Barrel Alley if you climb over old man Norris’ back fence, so it isn’t exactly a blind alley. It’s just a little near-sighted, kind of. Anyway I started through it and I knew if my quarry (that means the fellow you’re tracking) went down there, he most likely went into one of the tenement houses and I’d see that footprint as soon as he turned off from the sidewalk. Well, pretty soon I did see it right alongside the sidewalk just where he started to go into one of the houses. And oh, wasn’t I tickled! If it hadn’t been for Westy Martin and the way he’d acted I would have felt as grand as the Grand Central Station. But that was the thing I was thinking most about and when you’re thinking about something like that, you don’t have very much fun—I know I don’t anyway. But as long as I was there, I might as well find out who it was I had tracked and solve the mystery about the Indian head. That’s the way Pee-wee would have said it, “_solve the mystery_.” He gets that kind of talk out of books. The next chapter is going to be a dandy and I promised to let him give it a name, so don’t blame me whatever it is. So long. CHAPTER XVI NOBLE RAGS “Good night!” I said to Pee-wee, “what kind of rags do you call those?” “Didn’t you ever hear of noble rags?” he yelled; “that shows how much you know about story writing.” “Are they any relation to a dish rag?” I asked him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you,” he said; “do you know what a hero is—a ragged hero?” “Sure, a hero is a male shero,” I told him; “you learn that in the third grade. Just the same as a cowardice is a female coward.” “You make me sick!” he yelled. “I’ve heard of gasoline rags and dish rags and wash rags,” I kept up, “but I never saw any noble ones. Have your own way. I should worry.” “It’s a good name for a chapter,” he said. “I wouldn’t know a noble rag if I met one in the street,” I told him. So that’s how this chapter got its name, and I don’t know what it means any more than you do. I suppose the next one will be called “Trash Paper,” or something like that. Well, anyway, I stood on that doorstep for a few minutes, because I didn’t know what to do next. I was sure the fellow went in there, but I didn’t know where he went and anyway, I didn’t have any excuse to hunt him out because I was only tracking him for a stunt. Anyway I went in and when I got upstairs one flight I saw just a sign of that print in the hall just in front of a door. The hall was all dirty and greasy like.