With the sight of these houses came the suggestion to the mind of Andrew that he might find a place to sleep therein for the night, and acting upon this, he passed up the plank leading to the door least securely fastened, and soon succeeded in getting it open.

But, just as he stepped within, a heavy hand was laid upon him from behind, and a rough voice said-- "What are you doing here, sir ?" Turning, Andrew found himself in the custody of a policeman.
For a few moments every power of mind and body forsook the unhappy boy, and he stood shrinking and stammering before the officer--thus confirming a suspicion of intended incendiarism in the mind of that functionary.
"Come! you must go with me." And the officer commenced moving down the plank that connected the door with the ground, drawing Andrew after him.
"I was only going to sleep there," said the frightened boy, as soon as the power of speech had returned.
"Of course," returned the policeman, "I understand all that.

But I'll find a better place in which you can spend the night.

So come along with me." Remonstrance on the part of Andrew was all in vain, and so, watching an opportunity, he made an effort to escape.

But he ran only a few yards before he was tripped up by the officer, when falling, he struck his forehead on the curb-stone, wounding it severely.
"Look here!" said the officer, in a resolute voice, passing his heavy mace before the eyes of Andrew; "if you try this again I'll knock you senseless!" Then grasping his arm more firmly, he added-- "Move along quickly!" With his head aching severely from the fall, and the blood trickling down his face from the wound on his forehead, Andrew walked along by the side of the officer, who continued to keep hold of him.