The movement was far more successful than anticipated.
Down went Andy Cross on his knees, and before he could recover he went down the steps, bump! bump! bump! to the sidewalk.
The wind was knocked completely out of him, and he was sadly bruised about the head, while the blood spurted from his nose in a stream.
"Oh! oh! I'm killed!" he moaned, as he sat up.
"If you were, you wouldn't be able to groan over it," answered Robert. "Stay where you are, if you know when you are well off."
"Don't have me arrested," pleaded the sharper. The unexpected fall had taken all his self-possession from him.
At that moment a policeman showed himself at the corner, and Robert called to him to come up.
"What's the trouble?" demanded the officer of the law.
Seeing to it that Andy Cross did not get away, Robert told his story.