“Thank you. Just you come down to the office with me.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind. The idea of a boy, a mere boy, speaking to me in this fashion! Get out of my way, before I knock you down.”
And he drew back as if to attack Bob.
“Help! thief! help!” cried Bob, at the top of his voice.
“Stop that racket, you fool!” muttered the slim man.
He tried to catch Bob by the throat, but, failing in this, made a dash to get away.
Near the head of the stairs stood the traps belonging to Frank and Bob. The corridor was but dimly lighted, and the fellow did not see them.
“Stop the thief!” went on Bob.
There was a commotion below. The man heard it, and ran harder than ever.
At the top of the stairs he tripped over the camera, tripod, and satchel, and sneak-thief and photographic outfit rolled to the bottom together. Then came a greater commotion than ever.