Men, women and boys were moving up and down the sidewalk, to and fro, bent on their various affairs.
"That's the place," said Jerry, pointing toward an alley leading to the rear of the saloon.
As Frank raised his eyes in response to the sign a man sprang toward them with a loud shout.
It was the detective who had arrested him at the bank that night.
By the light of a neighboring street-lamp Frank recognized him at a glance.
With an exclamation he sprang away just as the man's hand was stretched out to grasp his coat, and, followed by Jerry Buck, who did not comprehend the situation at all, dashed up the street with the speed of the wind, without pausing to look behind.
But Jerry was possessed of no such fears as at that moment filled our hero's breast.
As they turned the corner of Cherry street he shot a hurried glance behind him and beheld the singular accident already described, which served to bring the detective to a sudden halt.
"Hist! hist!" he whispered, seizing Frank by the arm. "He's down, and there comes one of the bank burglars now!"
Even as he spoke the man who had dropped the basket of fish dashed round the corner and past them up Cherry street at the top of his speed.