Robber Hawk wasn't sailing in the sky any longer.

He was falling, falling, like a stone--just like Jim Crow.

"The Toyman's a good shot," exclaimed Jehosophat. "My, how I wish I could
shoot like that!"

Mother Green came to the back door.

She called to the Toyman:

"He's fallen on the barn, Frank."

"Roof, roof, roof!" barked little Wienerwurst to explain it more clearly.

Sure enough, Robber Hawk dropped on the roof of the barn, right by the Gold
Rooster who swung on the weather-vane.

The Toyman scratched his head.

"Quite a climb for these stiff legs," said he.

But he fetched a tall ladder and placed it against the side of the barn.

The three children watched him, their heads bent back so far that they
almost snapped off.

Mother held the ladder at the foot, for nobody wanted anything ever to
happen to the Toyman.