Kryder didn't move a muscle. The last thing he needed now was to be noticed. Then came the itch. The itch that everyone has right before they sneeze. Kryder tried, as all people in his situation do, to cover up his nose, to stick his finger up his nose, to do anything that might prevent, or at the very least muffle, the sound which could easily give them away.

"Perhaps they won't notice it if they're talking," he thought to himself. That turned out to be a stupid thought. The sneeze came and went.

"A-choo!" Kryder sneezed reluctantly, finally giving into his muscular reactions. Then he sat still and waited for the footsteps he was sure would come soon.

"Box, did you hear that?"

"Loud and clear, Mr. Mowfuss, sir."

"Well then, you lunk, don't just stand here! Go and see what it is!" Kryder tensed. What to do now? Should he give chase? Should he run? He wasn't the fastest boy in the world, but if he had to run, he would run as fast as he possibly could. What if he got tired and had to stop? No, he wouldn't get tired. He just wouldn't let himself. Talking to his parents would seem like a breeze next to this. The footsteps were coming, closer every second. Kryder couldn't take anymore. He just lept up and ran for it.

"Don't look behind you," he told himself, "don't look behind you, or they've got you for sure!" So he didn't look back. Kryder ran and ran, not stopping once. It wasn't until he got to the streetcorner. He wasn't sure if he could hear Box's loud running footsteps over the loud roar of the cars. Then, and only then, did Kryder look behind him. There was Box, advancing quickly. Kryder looked back at the street, which was still humming with cars. He couldn't stop now. If he did, then he was dead. So, Kryder dashed headlong into the street. There was a screaming of brakes as cars stopped and honked their horns at him. Some of the drivers made some rather inappropriate gestures that, had they understood the urgency of the situation, they probably wouldn't have used. Kryder didn't stop to apologize, however, since road rules and common sense ettiquite seem to escape the mind when one is being chased by a rather large, and rather angry, stranger.

Kryder was on 45th street. He lived just another block down. He hoped his parents were home. If not, he thought he had a key. In any case, he was running out of breath, and his throat was starting to feel sore and dry. There! There was his house! Practically ready to scream with relief, Kryder ran up to the door and tried it. Locked! Quickly he fumbled for his key. Box was getting closer. He could hear him. Finally he got the key out of his backpack. Fumbling with it, he got it in the lock, twisted it, and grabbed at the door. He yanked it open, and slammed it behind him, but it didn't close all the way. Turning, he saw that he was closing the door on Box's hand! The hand grabbed at the door, struggling to pull it open. Kryder leaned against the door, pushing as hard as he could against it. There was yelp and Box pulled his hand away. Kryder shut the door and quickly locked it before Box could get in. He was safe, at least for the moment. There was a loud groan as Box nursed his hand. Then he shouted at the top of his lungs,

"This isn't over yet, urchin! Nobody messes with Silencio de Mowfuss and lives!" Kryder was about to point out to the henchman that he didn't actually mess with Silencio de whatshisface, but decided he'd better not make the situation worse than it already was. He watched from the living room window as Box left the house, and made his way down the street. Kryder watched him go, hoping that the henchman would not keep his promise, and would just let the matter lie.

"Well, I think that's over," he slumped down against the wall. It was then that Kryder heard the garage door close, and a car door slam. Oh dear. Someone was home, and it looked like Kryder was going to have some major explaining to do.