The young man ceased, and gazed pensively upon the floor.

"Well, well, well!" exclaimed Aunt Martha, "if those are the sort of
experiences you had, I don't wonder that Realism was wonderful enough
for you. The invisible creature was very good to you, I am sure, but I
am glad it did not come with you to America."

David, who had been waiting for an opportunity to speak, now interrupted
further comments by stating that it was daylight, and if I thought well
of it, he would open the window-shutters, so that we might see any one
going toward the town. A milkman, he said, passed the house very early
every morning. When the shutters were opened we were all amazed that the
night should have passed so quickly.

The tall burglar and the young man now began to exhibit a good deal of
anxiety.

"I should like very much to know," said the former, "what you intend to
do in regard to us. It cannot be that you think of placing that young
gentleman and myself in the hands of the law. Of course, this man,"
pointing to the stout burglar, "cannot expect anything but a just
punishment of his crimes; but after what we have told you, you must
certainly be convinced that our connection with the affair is entirely
blameless, and should be considered as a piece of very bad luck."

"That," said I, "is a matter which will receive all the consideration it
needs."

At this moment David announced the milkman. Counselling my man to keep
strict guard over the prisoners, I went out to the road, stopped the
milkman, and gave him a message which I was certain would insure the
prompt arrival at my house of sufficient force to take safe charge of
the burglars. Excited with the importance of the commission, he whipped
up his horse and dashed away.

When I returned to the house I besought my wife and Aunt Martha to go to
bed, that they might yet get some hours of sleep; but both refused. They
did not feel in the least like sleep, and there was a subject on which
they wished to consult with me in the dining-room.

"Now," said Aunt Martha, when the door had been closed, "these men have
freely told us their stories; whether they are entirely true or not,
must, of course, be a matter of opinion; but they have laid their cases
before us, and we should not place them all in the hands of the officers
of the law without giving them due consideration, and arriving at a
decision which shall be satisfactory to ourselves."

"Let us take them in order," said I. "What do you think of the tall
man's case?"

"I think he is a thief and manufacturer of falsehoods," said my wife
promptly.

"I am afraid," said Aunt Martha, "that he is not altogether innocent;
but there is one thing greatly in his favour,--when he told of the
feelings which overcame him when he saw that little child sleeping
peacefully in its bed in the house which he had unintentionally robbed,
I felt there must be good points in that man's nature. What do you think
of him?"

"I think he is worst of the lot," I answered, "and as there are now two
votes against him, he must go to the lock-up. And now what of the stout
fellow?" I asked.

"Oh, he is a burglar by his own confession," said my wife; "there can be
no doubt of that."

"I am afraid you are right," said Aunt Martha.

"I know she is," said I, "and James Barlow, or whatever his name may be,
shall be delivered to the constable."

"Of course, there can be no difference of opinion in regard to the young
man," said Aunt Martha quickly. "Both the others admitted that he had
nothing to do with this affair except as a journalist, and although I do
not think he ought to get his realistic ideas in that way, I would
consider it positively wicked to send him into court in company with
those other men. Consider the position in which he would be placed
before the world. Consider his young wife."

"I cannot say," said my wife, "that I am inclined to believe all parts
of his story."

"I suppose," said I, laughing, "that you particularly refer to the
invisible dog-snake."

"I'm not so sure about all that," she answered. "Since the labours of
the psychic researchers began, we have heard of a great many strange
things; but it is evident that he is a young man of education and
culture, and in all probability a journalist or literary man. I do not
think he should be sent to the lock-up with common criminals."

"There!" cried Aunt Martha, "two in his favour. He must be released.
It's a poor rule that does not work both ways."

I stood for a few moments undecided. If left to myself, I would have
sent the trio to the county town, where, if any one of them could prove
his innocence, he could do so before the constitutional authorities; but
having submitted the matter to my wife and aunt, I could not well
override their decision. As for what the young man said, I gave it no
weight whatever, for of course he would say the best he could for
himself. But the testimony of the others had weight. When they both
declared that he was not a burglar, but merely a journalist, engaged in
what he supposed to be his duty, it would seem to be a cruel thing to
stamp him as a criminal by putting him in charge of the constables.

But my indecision soon came to an end, for Aunt Martha declared that no
time should be lost in setting the young man free, for should the
people in town arrive and see him sitting bound with the others it would
ruin his character forever. My wife agreed.

"Whatever there may be of truth in his story," she said, "one of two
things is certain,--either he has had most wonderful experiences out of
which he may construct realistic novels which will give him fortune and
reputation, or he has a startling imagination, which, if used in the
production of works in the romantic school, will be of the same
advantage to his future. Looking upon it, even in this light and without
any reference to his family and the possible effects on his own moral
nature, we shall assume a great responsibility in deliberately
subjecting such a person to criminal prosecution and perhaps
conviction."

This was enough. "Well," said I, "we will release the young fellow and
send the two other rascals to jail."

"That was not well expressed," said my wife, "but we will not criticise
words at present."

We returned to the library and I announced my decision. When he heard it
the stout burglar exhibited no emotion. His expression indicated that,
having been caught, he expected to be sent to jail, and that was the end
of it. Perhaps he had been through this experience so often that he had
become used to it. The tall man, however, took the announcement in a
very different way. His face grew dark and his eyes glittered. "You are
making a great mistake," he said to me, "a very great mistake, and you
will have to bear the consequences."

"Very good," said I, "I will remember that remark when your trial comes
on."

The behaviour of the young man was unexceptional. He looked upon us with
a face full of happy gratitude, and, as he thanked us for the kind
favour and the justice which we had shown him, his eyes seemed dim with
tears. Aunt Martha was much affected.

"I wonder if his mother is living," she whispered to me. "A wife is a
great deal, but a mother is more. If I had thought of her sooner I would
have spoken more strongly in his favour. And now you should untie him at
once and let him go home. His wife must be getting terribly anxious."

The young man overheard this last remark.

"You will confer a great favour on me, sir," he said, "if you will let
me depart as soon as possible. I feel a great repugnance to be seen in
company with these men, as you may imagine, from wearing a mask on
coming here. If I leave immediately I think I can catch the first train
from your station."

I considered the situation. If I did what I was asked, there would be
two bound burglars to guard, three women and a child to protect, an
uncertain stranger at liberty, and only David and myself to attend to
the whole business. "No, sir," said I, "I shall not untie you until the
officers I sent for are near at hand; then I will release you, and you
can leave the house by the back way without being seen by them. There
are other morning trains which will take you into the city early
enough."

"I think you are a little hard on him," remarked Aunt Martha, but the
young man made no complaint.

"I will trust myself to you, sir," he said.

The officers arrived much sooner than I expected. There were five of
them, including the Chief of Police, and they were accompanied by
several volunteer assistants, among whom was the milkman who had been
my messenger. This morning his customers might wait for their milk, for
all business must give way before such an important piece of sightseeing
as this.

I had barely time to untie the young man and take him to the back of the
house before the officers and their followers had entered the front
door. There was now a great deal of questioning, a great deal of
explanation, a great deal of discussion as to whether my way of catching
burglars was advisable or not, and a good deal of talk about the best
method of taking the men to town. Some of the officers were in favour of
releasing the two men, and then deciding in what manner they should be
taken to town; and if this plan had been adopted, I believe that these
two alert and practical rascals would have taken themselves out of my
house without the assistance of the officers, or at least would have
caused a great deal of trouble and perhaps injury in endeavouring to do
so.

But the Chief of Police was of my mind, and before the men were entirely
released from the ropes by which I had tied them, they were securely
manacled.

A requisition made on David and myself to appear as witnesses, the two
men were taken from the house to the wagons in which the officers and
their followers had come. My wife and Aunt Martha had gone upstairs
before the arrival of the police, and were watching the outside
proceeding from a window.

Standing in the hallway, I glanced into the dining-room, and was
surprised to see the young man still standing by a side door. I had
thought him gone, but perhaps it was wise in him to remain, and not show
himself upon the road until the coast was entirely clear. He did not see
me, and was looking backward into the kitchen, a cheerful and animated
expression upon his face. This expression did not strike me pleasantly.
He had escaped a great danger, it was true, but it was no reason for
this rather obtrusive air of exultation. Just then Alice came into the
dining-room from the kitchen, and the young man stepped back, so that
she did not notice him. As she passed he gently threw his arm quietly
around her neck and kissed her.

At that very instant, even before the girl had time to exclaim, in
rushed David from the outer side door.

"I've been watching you, you rascal," he shouted; "you're done for
now!" and he threw his strong arms around the man, pinioning his arms to
his side.

The young fellow gave a great jerk, and began to struggle powerfully.
His face turned black with rage; he swore, he kicked. He made the most
frenzied efforts to free himself, but David's arms were strong, his soul
was full of jealous fury, and in a moment I had come to his assistance.
Each of us taking the young fellow by an arm, we ran him into the
hallway and out of the front door, Alice aiding us greatly by putting
her hands against the man's back and pushing most forcibly.

"Here's another one," cried David. "I'll appear against him. He's the
worst of the lot."

Without knowing what it all meant, the Chief clapped the nippers on our
prisoner, justly believing that if burglars were about to show
themselves so unexpectedly, the best thing to do was to handcuff them as
fast as they appeared, and then to ask questions. The reasons for not
having produced this man before, and for producing him now, were not
very satisfactory to the officer.

"Have you any more in the cellar?" he asked. "If so, I should like to
take a look at them before I start away."

At this moment Aunt Martha made her appearance at the front door.

"What are you going to do with that young man?" she asked sharply. "What
right have you to put irons upon him?"

"Aunt Martha," said I, stepping back to her, "what do you think he has
done?"

"I don't know," said she; "how should I know? All I know is that we
agreed to set him free."

I addressed her solemnly: "David and I believe him to be utterly
depraved. He availed himself of the first moments of his liberation to
kiss Alice." Aunt Martha looked at me with wide-open eyes, and then her
brows contracted.

"He did, did he?" said she. "And that is the kind of a man he is. Very
good. Let him go to jail with the others. I don't believe one word about
his young wife. If kissing respectable young women is the way he studies
Realism the quicker he goes to jail the better," and with that she
walked into the house.

When the men had been placed in the two vehicles in which the police had
come, the Chief and I made an examination of the premises, and we found
that the house had been entered by a kitchen window, in exactly the
manner which the tall burglar had described. Outside of this window,
close to the wall, we found a leathern bag, containing what the Chief
declared to be an excellent assortment of burglars' tools. The officers
and their prisoners now drove away, and we were left to a long morning
nap, if we were so fortunate as to get it, and a late breakfast.

In the course of the trial of the three men who had entered my house
some interesting points in regard to them were brought out. Several
detectives and policemen from New York were present, and their testimony
proved that my three burglars were men of eminence in their profession,
and that which most puzzled the metropolitan detectives was to discover
why these men should have been willing to devote their high talents to
the comparatively insignificant business of breaking into a suburban
dwelling.

The tall man occupied a position of peculiar eminence in criminal
circles. He was what might be called a criminal manager. He would take
contracts for the successful execution of certain crimes,--bank
robberies, for instance,--and while seldom taking part in the actual
work of a burglary or similar operation, he would plan all the details
of the affair, and select and direct his agents with great skill and
judgment. He had never been arrested before, and the detectives were
delighted, believing they would now have an opportunity of tracing to
him a series of very important criminal operations that had taken place
in New York and some other large cities. He was known as Lewis Mandit,
and this was believed to be his real name.

The stout man was a first-class professional burglar and nothing more,
and was in the employ of Mandit. The young man was a decidedly uncommon
personage. He was of a good family, had been educated at one of our
principal colleges, had travelled, and was in every way qualified to
make a figure in society. He had been a newspaper man, and a writer for
leading periodicals, and had shown considerable literary ability; but a
life of honest industry did not suit his tastes, and he had now adopted
knavery as a regular profession.

This man, who was known among his present associates as Sparky, still
showed himself occasionally in newspaper offices, and was generally
supposed to be a correspondent for a Western journal; but his real
business position was that of Mandit's head man.

Sparky was an expert in many branches of crime. He was an excellent
forger, a skilful lock-picker, an ingenious planner of shady projects,
and had given a great deal of earnest study to the subject of the
loopholes of the law. He had a high reputation in criminal circles for
his ability in getting his fellow-rascals out of jail. There was reason
to believe that in the past year no less than nine men, some condemned
to terms of imprisonment, and some held for trial, had escaped by means
of assistance given them by Sparky.

His methods of giving help to jail-birds were various. Sometimes liberty
was conferred through the agency of saws and ropes, at other times
through that of a habeas corpus and an incontestible alibi. His means
were adapted to the circumstances of the case, and it was believed that
if Sparky could be induced to take up the case of a captured rogue, the
man had better chance of finding himself free than the law had of
keeping him behind bars, especially if his case were treated before it
had passed into its more chronic stages.

Sparky's success was greatly due to his extremely specious manner, and
his power of playing the part that the occasion demanded. In this
particular he was even the superior of Mandit, who was an adept in this
line. These two men found no difficulty in securing the services of
proficient burglars, safe-robbers, and the like; for, in addition to the
high rewards paid these men, they were in a manner insured against
permanent imprisonment in case of misfortune. It was always arranged
that, if any of their enterprises came to grief, and if either Mandit or
Sparky should happen to be arrested, the working miscreants should
substantiate any story their superiors might choose to tell of
themselves, and, if necessary, to take upon themselves the whole
responsibility of the crime. In this case their speedy release was to be
looked upon as assured.

A great deal of evidence in regard to the character and practices of
these two men came from the stout burglar, commonly known as Barney
Fitch. When he found that nothing was to be expected from his two
astute employers, and that they were in as bad a place as himself, he
promptly turned State's evidence, and told all that he knew about them.

It was through the testimony of this man that the motive for the
attempted robbery of my house was found out. It had no connection
whatever with the other burglaries of our neighbourhood, those,
probably, having been committed by low-class thieves, who had not broken
into my house simply because my doors and windows had been so well
secured; nor had our boy, George William, any share whatever in the
protection of the household.

The burglary was undertaken solely for the purpose of getting possession
of some important law papers, which were to be used in a case in which I
was concerned, which soon would be tried. If these papers could be
secured by the opposite party, the side on which I was engaged would
have no case at all, and a suit involving a great deal of property must
drop. With this end in view the unscrupulous defendants in the case had
employed Mandit to procure the papers; and that astute criminal manager
had not only arranged all the details of the affair, but had gone
himself to the scene of action in order to see that there should be no
mistake in carrying out the details of this most important piece of
business.

The premises had been thoroughly reconnoitred by Sparky, who, a few days
before the time fixed for the burglary, had visited my house in the
capacity of an agent of a telescopic bookcase, which could be extended
as new volumes were required, therefore need never exhibit empty
shelves. The young man had been included in the party on account of his
familiarity with legal documents, it being, of course, of paramount
importance that the right papers should be secured. His ingenuity was
also to be used to cover up, if possible, all evidence that the house
had been entered at all, it being desirable to make it appear to the
court that I had never had these documents in my possession, and that
they never existed.

Had it not been for a very natural desire for refreshment that
interfered with their admirably laid plans, it is probable that the
mechanical skill of Mandit would have been equal to the noiseless
straightening of the bent bolt, and the obliteration of the scratches
and dents made by the attempts upon other shutters, and that Sparky,
after relocking all open desks or cabinets, and after the exit of the
others, would have closed and fastened the kitchen shutters, and would
then have left the house by means of an open window in the upper hall
and the roof of a piazza.

Thus it was that these three men, so eminent in their different spheres
of earnest endeavour, came to visit my comparatively humble abode; and
thus it was that they not only came to that abode, but to the deepest
grief. They were "wanted" in so many quarters, and on so many charges,
that before they had finished serving out their various sentences their
ability to wickedly avail themselves of the property of others would
have suffered greatly from disuse, and the period of life left them for
the further exercise of those abilities would be inconveniently limited.

I was assured by a prominent detective that it had been a long time
since two such dangerous criminals as Mandit and Sparky had fallen into
the hands of the law. These men, by means of very competent outside
assistance, made a stout fight for acquittal on some of the charges
brought against them; but when they found that further effort of this
kind would be unavailing, and that they would be sentenced to long terms
of imprisonment, they threw off their masks of outraged probity and
stood out in their true characters of violent and brutal ruffians.
Barney Fitch, the cracksman, was a senior warden compared to them.

It was a long time before my Aunt Martha recovered from her
disappointment in regard to the youngest burglar.

"Of course I was mistaken," she said. "That sort of thing will happen;
but I really had good grounds for believing him to be a truthful person,
so I am not ashamed for having taken him for what he said he was. I have
now no doubt before he fell in his wicked ways that he was a very good
writer, and might have become a novelist or a magazine author; but his
case is a very sad proof that the study of Realism may be carried too
far," and she heaved a sigh.


THE END.