“Not so fast, my friend,” cried the boy.
Bidwell started back.
“What, you!” he exclaimed.
“Exactly, Bidwell, and I want you.”
Bidwell turned and darted across the street. Bob lost no time in following.
Reaching the other side of the thoroughfare, the sneak-thief made off as fast as his long legs would permit.
He was a good runner, and would no doubt have gotten away had not a fortunate accident occurred.
Turning a corner Bidwell ran full-tilt into a stout man who was walking leisurely along, carrying a basket on his arm.
Down went the stout man, with Bidwell on top of him, while the basket with its contents flew in all directions.
“Who—what?” the stout man spluttered.