And the good old lady appeared ready to faint.
"There is some strange mistake here," said Andy Cross. "Young man, how dare you call me a thief!"
"I have a strong inclination to knock you down, but I will try to curb my temper, as all Christian people should. I am Ralph Goodwill, the son of the Reverend Amos Goodwill, of Denver. I have come to Chicago to complete my studies for the ministry."
"You'll have to turn over a new leaf before you become a minister," answered Robert.
"Why should I? You are a thief, and you cannot humbug me into believing otherwise."
"Mr. Frost, there may be some mistake," put in the landlady timidly.
"There is no mistake, Mrs. Gibbs. Did you ever see a seminary student sporting such a suit of clothing."
"The suit is one I picked up in the slums," said Andy Cross glibly. "I have been doing some work there, assisted by some Salvation Army people. You can work better among the poor, lost ones if you are dressed like them," he added softly.
"Yes, yes, I presume that is so," said Mrs. Gibbs, who was somewhat interested in slum work herself.
"He is an out and out fraud," said Robert, as firmly as ever. "Mrs. Gibbs, will you send Mary to call a policeman? I will be responsible for the arrest."
"Haven't I said that I will be responsible? I am not going to let him escape if I can help it."
At that moment the front door opened, to admit one of the lady boarders. Robert stepped back to let her pass, and as he did so Andy Cross wrenched himself free and leaped for the door.
"Go to blazes!" snarled the sharper, and pulling the door back, he leaped out on the piazza.
Our hero's blood was up and he was determined that Cross should not escape him again.
He, too, leaped for the doorway, and as the sharper gained the piazza Robert put out his foot to trip him up.
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."