"That's it!" Sergeant Feeney rasped, rushing blindly toward the hallway. "Scour the streets men! Everybody scour! Follow me!" * * * * * Thus it was that Marc and Toffee, standing before the entrance to the store, glanced casually back along the street just in time to witness a disquieting eruption of blue-clad figures from the doorway of the jail. So astonishing was the sight that they stood for a moment too long watching it; Sergeant Feeney, catching sight of them, pointed an excited finger in their direction. "There they are!" he roared. "After them, men!" "The bloodhounds!" Toffee yelled. Taking Marc's arm, she dragged him forcibly through the entrance and inside the store. Counters laden with colorful spring merchandise stretched before them in what seemed like endless rows. A floor manager observed them curiously, and then moved away. "Come on!" Toffee said. "You're insane!" Marc said. By now Toffee had led him to the stairs. "We can't be bothered with dresses at a time like this." "I'm going to have a spring dress," Toffee said determinedly. "No matter what!" A dark browed lady, upon overhearing this snatch of dialogue, observed the ascending pair with brooding thoughtfulness. She turned triumphantly to the pallid, grey-suited individual at her side, on whom had befallen the misfortune of becoming her husband. "There!" she said, pointing up the stairs to Toffee's flashing legs. "That's exactly what I'm going to do next time I tell you I haven't anything to wear and you ignore me. I'm going to strip down to the skin and shame you in public. Then we'll see!" "Then, everyone will see," the man observed gloomily. "There will probably be fainting in the streets." At this juncture, as Marc and Toffee disappeared up the stairs, there was a blast at the entrance of the store, announcing that Sergeant Feeney, his redoubtable six and his whistle had arrived and the situation was slipping rapidly out of hand. "Everyone stay where you are!" the good sergeant bellowed, charging about frenziedly. "Everyone keep calm!" And so saying he dashed headlong into a small grey-haired lady and knocked her forthwith to the floor. Displaying an agility not to be looked for in so old a party, the sergeant's victim leaped to her feet and snatched up her parasol. "Fool!" she snapped. "Idiot!" "Stop hopping about!" the sergeant yelled, sitting up. "Everybody stay still!" "How can I stay still when you keep knocking me down?" the little woman demanded hotly. She rapped the sergeant smartly across the bridge of the nose to emphasize her point. "Lummox!" The sergeant grabbed at his nose and observed the lady with deep-seated hostility. "Lady," he said, "you're tamperin' with the law, you are!" "You've tampered with worse than that!" the little lady retorted. "If I were a little younger I'd have you for mashing!"