The place which we call the Gingham Ground is a settlement near some big gingham mills. There are two long rows of brick tenement houses with a street between. We knew that Skinny was right, because Bill would have had to walk down that street between the rows of houses, and some one would have been sure to see him. He might have stopped at Jim's, or, anyhow, would have called to him when he passed. It didn't take us long to get there, and as we came near we could see the Gang getting together. You see, they thought we were after them on account of what they had done to Benny. We didn't pay much attention to them but went straight to Jim's house and found him eating dinner. He was surprised to see us and was glad. "Wait until I call the Gang," said he, after we had told him about Bill. In a few minutes they had all come up, as friendly as could be when they found out that we were not looking for a fight. Not one of them had seen Bill. They all knew him and they felt sure that if he had gone through in daylight some of them would have seen him. "I'll tell you what we'd better do," said Jim, finally. "I don't believe that he came this way, but, to make sure, the Gang will work north from here and ask at every house. You go back and look between here and the village. If he left there and didn't get as far as this, then he must have turned off somewhere." We went back, stopping at every house we came to, on each side of the road. We couldn't find a person who remembered having seen him or any one like him. You see, if he passed at all, it must have been soon after seven o'clock in the morning. The men had gone to work in the mills and the women were busy in the back parts of the houses. Then we started back again, not knowing what to do next. There was one house, larger than the others, which we had not visited, because it stood high above the road on a hillside and could be reached only by a long driveway. It was about halfway between the Gingham Ground and our house in the village. We couldn't think of anything else to do, so we went up there. "I don't remember seeing any one," said the lady who met us at the door. "Of course, there are boys passing at all hours of the day. I might have seen him." We looked at Skinny in despair. "This one," said he, "was probably making a noise. Maybe he was cawing like a crow." "I saw him, Mama," shouted a little girl, who had come up and stood listening. "I saw a boy go past, making an awful racket, and it sounded something like a crow." "Was he carrying anything?" I asked. "Yes, he had a rolled-up blanket on his back. I remember thinking he looked funny and wondering what he was going to do with it. Oh, yes, he had on a uniform, too." "It was Bill, all right," said Skinny. "We've struck the trail at last." We went down to the road and talked it over.