He had been to the corner grocery to buy himself a few of the necessities of life.
Entering the semi-dark hallway he shambled along until his foot struck Robert's body.
"Why, what can this be?" he muttered, and bent over that he might see.
He was greatly amazed to find a boy there, suffering from a slight cut over one eye, from which the blood was flowing.
"Something is wrong," he thought. "Has the lad met with foul play?"
He was half of a mind to summon the police, but was afraid he could not find an officer short of six or seven blocks off.
Setting down his basket, he raised up Robert's head. As he did this, our hero gave a groan and a shiver.
"Don't, don't hit me again," he murmured. "Don't!"
"I ain't hit ye," answered the old man. "How did ye git here?"