[Illustration: Frank R. Stockton]


The Stories
of the
Three Burglars


By
FRANK R. STOCKTON


1889




THE STORIES OF THE THREE BURGLARS.


I am a householder in a pleasant country neighbourhood, about twenty
miles from New York. My family consists of myself and wife, our boy,
George William, aged two, two maid-servants, and a man; but in the
summer we have frequent visitors, and at the time of which I am about to
write my Aunt Martha was staying with us.

My house is large and pleasant, and we have neighbours near enough for
social purposes and yet not too near or too many to detract from the
rural aspect of our surroundings. But we do not live in a paradise; we
are occasionally troubled by mosquitoes and burglars.

Against the first of these annoyances we have always been able to guard
ourselves, at least in a measure, and our man and the cook declare that
they have become so used to them that they do not mind them; but to
guard against burglars is much more difficult, and to become used to
them would, I think, require a great deal of practice.

For several months before the period of this narrative our neighbourhood
had been subject to visits from burglars. From time to time houses had
been entered and robbed, and the offenders had never been detected.

We had no police force, not even a village organization. There was a
small railway station near our house, and six miles away was the county
town. For fire and police protection each household was obliged to
depend upon itself.

Before the beginning of the burglarious enterprises in our midst, we had
not felt the need of much protection in this direction; sometimes
poultry was stolen, but this was a rare occurrence, and, although
windows and doors were generally fastened for the night, this labour was
often considered much more troublesome than necessary. But now a great
change had taken place in the feelings of our community. When the first
robbery occurred the neighbours were inclined to laugh about it, and to
say that Captain Hubbard's habit of sitting up after the rest of his
family had gone to bed and then retiring and forgetting to close the
front door had invited the entrance of a passing tramp. But when a
second and a third house, where windows and doors had not been left
open, had been entered, and, in a measure, despoiled, people ceased to
laugh; and if there had been any merriment at all on the subject, it
would have been caused by the extraordinary and remarkable precautions
taken against the entrance of thieves by night. The loaded pistol became
the favourite companion of the head of the house; those who had no
watch-dogs bought them; there were new locks, new bolts, new fastenings.
At one time there was a mounted patrol of young men, which, however, was
soon broken up by their mothers. But this trouble was unavailing, for at
intervals the burglaries continued.

As a matter of course a great many theories were broached as to the
reasons for this disturbance in our hitherto peaceful neighbourhood. We
were at such a distance from the ordinary centres of crime that it was
generally considered that professional burglars would hardly take the
trouble to get to us or to get away from us, and that, therefore, the
offences were probably committed by unsuspected persons living in this
part of the country who had easy means of determining which houses were
worth breaking into and what method of entrance would be most feasible.
In this way some families, hitherto regarded as respectable families,
had fallen under suspicion.

So far, mine was the only house of any importance within the distance of
a mile from the station which had not in some way suffered from
burglars. In one or two of these cases the offenders had been frightened
away before they had done any other injury than the breaking of a
window-shutter; but we had been spared any visitation whatever. After a
time we began to consider that this was an invidious distinction. Of
course we did not desire that robbers should break into our house and
steal, but it was a sort of implied insult that robbers should think
that our house was not worth breaking into. We contrived, however, to
bear up under this implied contempt and even under the facetious
imputations of some of our lively neighbours, who declared that it
looked very suspicious that we should lose nothing, and even continue to
add to our worldly goods, while everybody else was suffering from
abstractions.

I did not, however, allow any relaxation in my vigilance in the
protection of my house and family. My time to suffer had not yet
arrived, and it might not arrive at all; but if it did come it should
not be my fault. I therefore carefully examined all the new precautions
my neighbours had taken against the entrance of thieves, and where I
approved of them I adopted them.

Of some of these my wife and I did not approve. For instance, a tin pan
containing iron spoons, the dinner bell, and a miscellaneous collection
of hardware balanced on the top stair of the staircase, and so connected
with fine cords that a thief coming up the stairs would send it rattling
and bounding to the bottom, was looked upon by us with great disfavour.
The descent of the pan, whether by innocent accident or the approach of
a burglar, might throw our little boy into a fit, to say nothing of the
terrible fright it would give my Aunt Martha, who was a maiden lady of
middle age, and not accustomed to a clatter in the night. A bull-dog in
the house my wife would not have, nor, indeed, a dog of any kind. George
William was not yet old enough to play with dogs, especially a sharp
one; and if the dog was not sharp it was of no use to have him in the
house. To the ordinary burglar-alarm she strongly objected. She had been
in houses where these things went off of their own accord, occasioning
great consternation; and, besides, she said that if thieves got into the
house she did not want to know it and she did not want me to know it;
the quicker they found what they came for and went away with it the
better. Of course, she wished them kept out, if such a thing were
possible; but if they did get in, our duty as parents of the dearest
little boy was non-interference. She insisted, however, that the room in
which the loveliest of children slept, and which was also occupied by
ourselves, should be made absolutely burglar proof; and this object, by
means of extraordinary bolts and chains, I flattered myself I
accomplished. My Aunt Martha had a patent contrivance for fastening a
door that she always used, whether at home or travelling, and in whose
merit she placed implicit confidence. Therefore we did not feel it
necessary to be anxious about her; and the servants slept at the top of
the house, where thieves would not be likely to go.

"They may continue to slight us by their absence," said my wife, "but I
do not believe that they will be able to frighten us by their presence."

I was not, however, so easily contented as my wife. Of course I wished
to do everything possible to protect George William and the rest of the
family, but I was also very anxious to protect our property in all parts
of the house. Therefore, in addition to everything else I had done, I
devised a scheme for interfering with the plans of men who should
feloniously break into our home.

After a consultation with a friend, who was a physician greatly
interested in the study of narcotic drugs, I procured a mixture which
was almost tasteless and without peculiar odour, and of which a small
quantity would in less than a minute throw an ordinary man into a state
of unconsciousness. The potion was, however, no more dangerous in its
effects than that quantity of ardent spirits which would cause entire
insensibility. After the lapse of several hours, the person under the
influence of the drug would recover consciousness without assistance.
But in order to provide against all contingencies my friend prepared a
powerful antidote, which would almost immediately revive one who had
been made unconscious by our potion.

The scheme that I had devised may possibly have been put into use by
others. But of this I know not. I thought it a good scheme and
determined to experiment with it, and, if possible, to make a trap which
should catch a burglar. I would reveal this plan to no one but my friend
the physician and my wife. Secrecy would be an important element in its
success.

Our library was a large and pleasant room on the ground floor of the
house, and here I set my trap. It was my habit to remain in this room an
hour or so after the rest of the family had gone to bed, and, as I was
an early riser, I was always in it again before it was necessary for a
servant to enter it in the morning.

Before leaving the library for the night I placed in a conspicuous
position in the room a small table, on which was a tray holding two
decanters partially filled with wine, in the one red and in the other
white. There was also upon the tray an open box of biscuit and three
wine-glasses, two of them with a little wine at the bottom. I took pains
to make it appear that these refreshments had been recently partaken of.
There were biscuit crumbs upon the tray, and a drop or two of wine was
freshly spilled upon it every time the trap was set. The table, thus
arranged, was left in the room during the night, and early in the
morning I put the tray and its contents into a closet and locked it up.

A portion of my narcotic preparation was thoroughly mixed with the
contents of each of the decanters in such proportions that a glass of
the wine would be sufficient to produce the desired effect.

It was my opinion that there were few men who, after a night walk and
perhaps some labour in forcibly opening a door or a window-shutter,
would not cease for a moment in pursuance of their self-imposed task to
partake of the refreshments so conveniently left behind them by the
occupants of the house when they retired to rest. Should my surmises be
correct, I might reasonably expect, should my house be broken into, to
find an unconscious burglar in the library when I went down in the
morning. And I was sure, and my wife agreed with me, that if I should
find a burglar in that room or any other part of the house, it was
highly desirable that he should be an unconscious one.

Night after night I set my burglar trap, and morning after morning I
locked it up in the closet. I cannot say that I was exactly disappointed
that no opportunity offered to test the value of my plan, but it did
seem a pity that I should take so much trouble for nothing. It had been
some weeks since any burglaries had been committed in the neighbourhood,
and it was the general opinion that the miscreants had considered this
field worked out and had transferred their labours to a better-paying
place. The insult of having been considered unworthy the attention of
the knights of the midnight jimmy remained with us, but as all our goods
and chattels also remained with us we could afford to brook the
indignity.

As the trap cost nothing my wife did not object to my setting it every
night for the present. Something might happen, she remarked, and it was
just as well to be prepared in more ways than one; but there was a point
upon which she was very positive.

"When George William is old enough to go about the house by himself,"
she said, "those decanters must not be left exposed upon the table. Of
course I do not expect him to go about the house drinking wine and
everything that he finds, but there is no knowing what a child in the
first moments of his investigative existence may do."

For myself, I became somewhat tired of acting my part in this little
farce every night and morning, but when I have undertaken anything of
this sort I am slow to drop it.

It was about three weeks since I had begun to set my trap when I was
awakened in the night by a sudden noise. I sat up in bed, and as I did
so my wife said to me sleepily,--

"What is that? Was it thunder? There it is again!" she exclaimed,
starting up. "What a crash! It must have struck somewhere." I did not
answer. It was not thunder. It was something in the house, and it
flashed into my mind that perhaps my trap had been sprung. I got out of
bed and began rapidly to dress.

"What are you going to do?" anxiously asked my wife.

"I'm going to see what has happened," said I. At that moment there was
another noise. This was like two or three heavy footsteps, followed by a
sudden thump; but it was not so loud as the others.

"John," cried my wife, "don't stir an inch, it's burglars!" and she
sprang out of bed and seized me by the arm.

"I must go down," I said; "but there is really no reason for your being
frightened. I shall call David, and shall carry my pistol, so there is
really no danger. If there are thieves in the house they have probably
decamped by this time--that is, if they are able to do so, for of course
they must know that noise would awaken the soundest sleepers."

My wife looked at me and then slowly withdrew her hands from my arm.

"You promise me," she said, "if you find a burglar downstairs in the
possession of his senses you will immediately come back to me and George
William?"

I promised her, and, slipping on some clothes, I went out into the
second-story hall. I carried no light. Before I had reached the bottom
of the back stairs I heard David, my man, coming down. To be sure it was
he and not a burglar I spoke to him in a low voice, my pistol raised in
case of an unsatisfactory reply.

"I heard that noise, sir," he whispered, "and was going down to see
about it."

"Are you ready if it's thieves?" I whispered.

"I have got the biscuit-beater," he replied.

"Come on, then," said I, and we went downstairs.

I had left no light in the library, but there was one there now, and it
shone through the open door into the hallway. We stopped and listened.
There was no sound, and then slowly and cautiously we approached the
door of the library. The scene I beheld astounded me, and involuntarily
I sprang back a step or two. So did David; but in an instant we saw that
there was no need of retreat or defence. Stretched upon the floor, not
far from the doorway, lay a tall man, his face upturned to the light of
a bull's-eye lantern which stood by the mantel-piece. His eyes were
shut, and it was evident that he was perfectly insensible. Near by, in
the wreck of the small table, glasses, and decanters, lay another man,
apparently of heavier build. He also was as still as a corpse. A little
further back, half sitting on the floor, with the upper part of his body
resting against the lounge, was another man with a black mask over his
face.

"Are they dead?" exclaimed David, in an undertone of horror.

"No," said I, "they are not dead; they have been caught in my trap."

And I must admit that the consciousness of this created a proud
exultation of spirit within me. I had overmatched these rascals; they
were prostrated before me. If one of them moved, David and I could kill
him. But I did not believe there would be any killing, nor any moving
for the present.

In a high whisper, which could have been heard distinctly all over the
house, my wife now called to me from the top of the stairs. "What is
it?" she said. "What has happened?"

I stepped quickly to the stairway.

"Everything is all right," I said in a loud, distinct voice, intended
to assure my wife that there was no necessity for caution or alarm. "I
will be with you presently."

"I am glad to hear that nothing is the matter," said Aunt Martha, now
for the first time opening her door. "I was afraid something had
happened."

But I had business to attend to before I could go upstairs. In thinking
over and arranging this plan for the capture of burglars, I had
carefully considered its various processes, and had provided against all
the contingencies I could think of; therefore I was not now obliged to
deliberate what I should do. "Keep your eye on them," said I to David,
"and if one of them moves be ready for him. The first thing to do is to
tie them hand and foot."

I quickly lighted a lamp, and then took from another shelf of the closet
a large coil of strong cotton rope, which I had provided for such an
occasion as the present.

"Now," said I to David, "I will tie them while you stand by to knock
over any one of them who attempts to get up."

The instrument with which David was prepared to carry out my orders was
a formidable one. In the days of my youth my family was very fond of
"Maryland biscuit," which owes much of its delicacy to the fact that
before baking it is pounded and beaten by a piece of heavy iron. Some
people used one kind of a beater and some another, but we had had made
for the purpose a heavy iron club a little over a foot long, large and
heavy at one end and a handle at the other. In my present household
Maryland biscuits were never made, but I had preserved this iron beater
as a memento of my boyhood, and when the burglaries began in our
vicinity I gave it to David to keep in his room, to be used as a weapon
if necessary. I did not allow him to have a pistol, having a regard for
my own safety in a sudden night alarm, and nothing could be more
formidable in a hand-to-hand encounter than this skull-crushing club.

I began with the tall man, and rapidly tied his feet together with many
twists of the rope and as many knots. I then turned him over and tied
his elbows behind him in the same secure way. I had given so much
thought to the best method of securing a man by cords, that I do not
think this fellow could possibly have released himself when I had
finished with him.

David was obeying my orders and keeping a strict watch on the prostrate
men; but his emotions of amazement were so great that he could not keep
them down.

"What is the matter with them, sir?" he said. "How did they come so?"

"There is no time for talking now," I answered. "I will tell you all
about it when the men have been secured." I now turned my attention to
the man who was partly resting against the lounge. I first tied his
feet, and before letting him down to the floor, so as to get to his
arms, I removed his hat and his mask, which was made of black muslin. I
was surprised to see the beardless face of a young and very good-looking
man. He was well dressed, and had the general appearance of a person
belonging to theatrical circles. When his arms had been tied, I told
David he might lay down his biscuit-beater, and help me with the third
man, who was badly mixed up with the _dГ©bris_ of the refreshments. We
hauled him out and tied him up. He was rather a short man, but very
heavy, and I could see no signs of his having been hurt by the smash-up
he made in falling.

We now proceeded to search the insensible burglars for arms. Upon the
tall man we found a large revolver, a heavy billy, which seemed as if it
had seen service, and a long-bladed knife. The stout man carried two
double-barrelled pistols, and upon one of the fingers of his right hand
wore a brass ring with a murderous-looking iron protuberance upon it,
which, when driven forward by his powerful arm, was probably more
dangerous than a billy. Upon the younger man we found no arms at all,
and his hip pocket contained nothing but a small handbook on civil
engineering.

I now briefly explained to David the nature of the trap which had caught
the burglars. He gazed upon me with a face glowing with amazed
admiration.

"What a head you have got, sir!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe there is
another man in this State who would have thought of that. And what are
you going to do with them now, sir; hang 'em? That's what ought to be
done with them, the hounds!"

"All I shall do," I answered, "will be to keep them till daylight, and
then I shall send word to the sheriff at Kennertown, and have him send
officers for them."

"Upon my word," exclaimed David, "they are in the worst kind of a box."

Now my wife called me again. "What in the world are you doing down
there?" she called; "why don't you come upstairs?"

This annoyed me, for I was not yet ready to go upstairs. I wished to
resuscitate these fellows, for their stupor was so profound that I began
to fear that perhaps they had taken too much of the drug and ought to be
brought to their senses as speedily as possible. This feeling was due
more to my desire that serious injuries should not occur to the rascals
while in my house than to any concern for them.

"My dear," said I, stepping to the bottom of the stairs, "I have some
things to attend to down here which will occupy me a few minutes longer;
then I will come up to you."

"I can't imagine what the things are," she said, "but I suppose I can
wait," and she went into her room and closed her door after her.

I now began to consider what was to be done with the burglars after they
had been resuscitated. My first impulse was to rid the house of them by
carrying them out of doors and bringing them to their senses there. But
there was an objection to this plan. They would be pretty heavy fellows
to carry, and as it would be absolutely necessary to watch them until
they could be given into the charge of the officers of the law, I did
not want to stay out of doors to do this, for the night air was raw and
chilly, and I therefore determined to keep them in the house. And as
they could be resuscitated better in a sitting position, they must be
set up in some way or other. I consulted David on the subject.

"You might put 'em up with their backs agin the wall, sir," said he,
"but the dirty beasts would spoil the paper. I wouldn't keep them in a
decent room like this. I'd haul 'em out into the kitchen, anyway."

But as they were already in the library I decided to let them stay
there, and to get them as speedily as possible into some position in
which they might remain. I bethought me of a heavy wooden settle or
bench with back and arms which stood on the side piazza. With David's
help I brought this into the room and placed it with its back to the
window.

"Now, then," said I to David, "we will put them on this bench, and I
will tie them fast to it. We cannot be too careful in securing them, for
if one of them were to get loose, even without arms, there is no knowing
what trouble he might make."

"Well, sir," said David, "if I'm to handle them at all, I'd rather have
them dead, as I hope they are, than have them alive; but you needn't be
afraid, sir, that any one of them will get loose. If I see any signs of
that I'll crack the rascal's skull in a jiffy."

It required a great deal of tugging and lifting to get those three men
on the bench, but we got them there side by side, their heads hanging
listlessly, some one way, some another. I then tied each one of them
firmly to the bench.

I had scarcely finished this when I again heard my wife's voice from the
top of the stairs.

"If any pipes have burst," she called down, "tell David not to catch the
water in the new milk-pans."

"Very well," I replied, "I'll see to it," and was rejoiced to hear again
the shutting of the bedroom door.

I now saturated a sponge with the powerful preparation which Dr. Marks
had prepared as an antidote, and held it under the nose of the tall
burglar. In less than twenty seconds he made a slight quivering in his
face as if he were about to sneeze, and very soon he did sneeze
slightly. Then he sneezed violently, raised his head, and opened his
eyes. For a moment he gazed blankly before him, and then looked stupidly
at David and at me. But in an instant there flashed into his face the
look of a wild beast. His quick, glittering eye took in the whole
situation at a glance. With a furious oath he threw himself forward with
such a powerful movement that he nearly lifted the bench.

"Stop that," said David, who stood near him with his iron club uplifted.
"If you do that again I'll let you feel this."

The man looked at him with a fiery flash in his eyes, and then he looked
at me, as I stood holding the muzzle of my pistol within two feet of his
face. The black and red faded out of his countenance. He became pale. He
glanced at his companions bound and helpless. His expression now changed
entirely. The fury of the wild beast was succeeded by a look of
frightened subjection. Gazing very anxiously at my pistol, he said, in a
voice which, though agitated, was low and respectful:--

"What does this mean? What are you going to do? Will you please turn
away the muzzle of that pistol?"

I took no notice of this indication of my steadiness of hand, and
answered:--

"I am going to bring these other scoundrels to their senses, and early
in the morning the three of you will be on your way to jail, where I
hope you may remain for the rest of your lives."

"If you don't get killed on your way there," said David, in whose
nervous hand the heavy biscuit-beater was almost as dangerous as my
pistol.

The stout man who sat in the middle of the bench was twice as long in
reviving as had been his companion, who watched the operation with
intense interest. When the burly scoundrel finally became conscious, he
sat for a few minutes gazing at the floor with a silly grin; then he
raised his head and looked first at one of his companions and then at
the other, gazed for an instant at me and David, tried to move his feet,
gave a pull at one arm and then at the other, and when he found he was
bound hard and fast, his face turned as red as fire and he opened his
mouth, whether to swear or yell I know not. I had already closed the
door, and before the man had uttered more than a premonitory sound,
David had clapped the end of his bludgeon against his mouth.

"Taste that," he said, "and you know what you will get if you disturb
this family with any of your vile cursin' and swearin'."

"Look here," said the tall man, suddenly turning to the other with an
air of authority, "keep your mouth shut and don't speak till you're
spoken to. Mind that, now, or these gentlemen will make it the worse for
you."

David grinned as he took away his club.

"I'd gentlemen you," he said, "if I could get half a chance to do it."

The face of the heavy burglar maintained its redness, but he kept his
mouth shut.

When the younger man was restored to his senses, his full consciousness
and power of perception seemed to come to him in an instant. His eyes
flashed from right to left, he turned deadly white, and then merely
moving his arms and legs enough to make himself aware that he was bound,
he sat perfectly still and said not a word.

I now felt that I must go and acquaint my wife with what had happened,
or otherwise she would be coming downstairs to see what was keeping me
so long. David declared that he was perfectly able to keep guard over
them, and I ran upstairs. David afterward told me that as soon as I left
the room the tall burglar endeavoured to bribe him to cut their ropes,
and told him if he was afraid to stay behind after doing this he would
get him a much better situation than this could possibly be. But as
David threatened personal injury to the speaker if he uttered another
word of the kind, the tall man said no more; but the stout man became
very violent and angry, threatening all sorts of vengeance on my
unfortunate man. David said he was beginning to get angry, when the tall
man, who seemed to have much influence over the other fellow, ordered
him to keep quiet, as the gentleman with the iron club no doubt thought
he was doing right. The young fellow never said a word.

When I told my wife that I had caught three burglars, and they were
fast bound in the library, she nearly fainted; and when I had revived
her she begged me to promise that I would not go downstairs again until
the police had carried away the horrible wretches. But I assured her
that it was absolutely necessary for me to return to the library. She
then declared that she would go with me, and if anything happened she
would share my fate. "Besides," she said, "if they are tied fast so they
can't move, I should like to see what they look like. I never saw a
burglar."

I did not wish my wife to go downstairs, but as I knew there would be no
use in objecting, I consented. She hastily dressed herself, making me
wait for her; and when she left the room she locked the door on the
sleeping George William, in order that no one should get at him during
her absence. As we passed the head of the stairs, the door of my Aunt
Martha's room opened, and there she stood, completely dressed, with her
bonnet on, and a little leather bag in her hand.

"I heard so much talking and so much going up and down stairs that I
thought I had better be ready to do whatever had to be done. Is it
fire?"

"No," said my wife; "it's three burglars tied in a bunch in the library.
I am going down to see them."

My Aunt Martha gasped, and looked as if she were going to sit down on
the floor.

"Goodness gracious!" she said, "if you're going I'll go too. I can't let
you go alone, and I never did see a burglar."

I hurried down and left the two ladies on the stairs until I was sure
everything was still safe; and when I saw that there had been no change
in the state of affairs, I told them to come down.

When my wife and Aunt Martha timidly looked in at the library door, the
effect upon them and the burglars was equally interesting. The ladies
each gave a start and a little scream, and huddled themselves close to
me, and the three burglars gazed at them with faces that expressed more
astonishment than any I had ever seen before. The stout fellow gave vent
to a smothered exclamation, and the face of the young man flushed, but
not one of them spoke.

"Are you sure they are tied fast?" whispered my Aunt Martha to me.

"Perfectly," I answered; "if I had not been sure I should not have
allowed you to come down."

Thereupon the ladies picked up courage and stepped further into the
room.

"Did you and David catch them?" asked my aunt; "and how in the world did
you do it?"

"I'll tell you all about that another time," I said, "and you had better
go upstairs as soon as you two have seen what sort of people are these
cowardly burglars who sneak or break into the houses of respectable
people at night, and rob and steal and ruin other people's property with
no more conscience or human feeling than is possessed by the rats which
steal your corn, or the polecats which kill your chickens."

"I can scarcely believe," said Aunt Martha, "that that young man is a
real burglar."

At these words the eyes of the fellow spoken of glowed as he fixed them
on Aunt Martha, but he did not say a word, and the paleness which had
returned to his face did not change.

"Have they told you who they are?" asked my wife.

"I haven't asked them," I said. "And now don't you think you had better
go upstairs?"

"It seems to me," said Aunt Martha, "that those ropes must hurt them."

The tall man now spoke. "Indeed they do, madam," he said in a low voice
and very respectful manner, "they are very tight."

I told David to look at all the cords and see if any of them were too
tightly drawn.

"It's all nonsense, sir," said he, when he had finished the examination;
"not one of the ropes is a bit too tight. All they want is a chance to
pull out their ugly hands."

"Of course," said Aunt Martha, "if it would be unsafe to loosen the
knots I wouldn't do it. Are they to be sent to prison?"

"Yes," said I; "as soon as the day breaks I shall send down for the
police."

I now heard a slight sound at the door, and turning, saw Alice, our maid
of the house, who was peeping in at the door. Alice was a modest girl,
and quite pretty.

"I heard the noise and the talking, sir," she said, "and when I found
the ladies had gone down to see what it was, I thought I would come
too."

"And where is the cook," asked my wife; "don't she want to see
burglars?"

"Not a bit of it," answered Alice, very emphatically. "As soon as I told
her what it was she covered up her head with the bedclothes and
declared, ma'am, that she would never get up until they were entirely
gone out of the house."

At this the stout man grinned.

"I wish you'd all cover up your heads," he said. The tall man looked at
him severely, and he said no more.

David did not move from his post near the three burglars, but he turned
toward Alice and looked at her. We knew that he had tender feelings
toward the girl, and I think that he did not approve of her being there.

"Have they stolen anything?" asked Aunt Martha.

"They have not had any chance to take anything away," I said; and my
wife remarked that whether they had stolen anything or not, they had
made a dreadful mess on the floor, and had broken the table. They should
certainly be punished.

At this she made a motion as if she would leave the room, and an
anxious expression immediately came on the face of the tall man, who had
evidently been revolving something in his mind.

"Madam," he said, "we are very sorry that we have broken your table, and
that we have damaged some of your glass and your carpet. I assure you,
however, that nothing of the kind would have happened but for that
drugged wine, which was doubtless intended for a medicine, and not a
beverage; but weary and chilled as we were when we arrived, madam, we
were glad to partake of it, supposing it ordinary wine."

I could not help showing a little pride at the success of my scheme.

"The refreshment was intended for fellows of your class, and I am very
glad you accepted it."

The tall man did not answer me, but he again addressed my wife.

"Madam," he said, "if you ladies would remain and listen to me a few
moments, I am sure I would make you aware that there is much to
extenuate the apparent offence which I have committed to-night."

My wife did not answer him, but turning to me said, smiling, "If he
alludes to their drinking your wine he need not apologize."

The man looked at her with an expression as if her words had pained him.

"Madam," he said, "if you consent to listen to my explanations and the
story of this affair, I am sure your feelings toward me would not be so
harsh."

"Now, then," said my Aunt Martha, "if he has a story to tell he ought to
be allowed to tell it, even in a case like this. Nobody should be judged
until he has said what he thinks he ought to say. Let us hear his
story."

I laughed. "Any statement he may make," I said, "will probably deserve a
much stronger name than stories."

"I think that what you say is true," remarked my wife; "but still if he
has a story to tell I should like to hear it."

I think I heard David give a little grunt; but he was too well bred to
say anything.

"Very well," said I, "if you choose to sit up and hear him talk, it is
your affair. I shall be obliged to remain here anyway, and will not
object to anything that will help to pass away the time. But these men
must not be the only ones who are seated. David, you and Alice can clear
away that broken table and the rest of the stuff, and then we might as
well sit down and make ourselves comfortable."

Alice, with cloth and brush, approached very timidly the scene of the
disaster; but the younger burglar, who was nearest to her, gazed upon
her with such a gentle and quiet air that she did not seem to be
frightened. When she and David had put the room in fair order, I placed
two easy-chairs for my wife and Aunt Martha at a moderate distance from
the burglars, and took another myself a little nearer to them, and then
told David to seat himself near the other end of the bench, and Alice
took a chair at a little distance from the ladies.

"Now, then," said Aunt Martha to the burglars, "I would like very much
to hear what any one of you can say in extenuation of having broken into
a gentleman's house by night."

Without hesitation the tall man began his speech. He had a long and
rather lean, close-shaven face, which at present bore the expression of
an undertaker conducting a funeral. Although it was my aunt who had
shown the greatest desire to hear his story, he addressed himself to my
wife. I think he imagined that she was the more influential person of
the two.

"Madam," said he, "I am glad of the opportunity of giving you and your
family an idea of the difficulties and miseries which beset a large
class of your fellow-beings of whom you seldom have any chance of
knowing anything at all, but of whom you hear all sorts of the most
misleading accounts. Now, I am a poor man. I have suffered the greatest
miseries that poverty can inflict. I am here, suspected of having
committed a crime. It is possible that I may be put to considerable
difficulty and expense in proving my innocence."

"I shouldn't wonder," I interrupted. To this remark he paid no
attention.

"Considering all this," he continued, "you may not suppose, madam, that
as a boy I was brought up most respectably and properly. My mother was a
religious woman, and my father was a boat-builder. I was sent to school,
and my mother has often told me that I was a good scholar. But she died
when I was about sixteen, and I am sure had this not happened I should
never have been even suspected of breaking the laws of my country. Not
long after her death my father appeared to lose interest in his
business, and took to rowing about the river instead of building boats
for other people to row. Very often he went out at night, and I used to
wonder why he should care to be on the water in the darkness, and
sometimes in the rain. One evening at supper he said to me: 'Thomas, you
ought to know how to row in the dark as well as in the daytime. I am
going up the river to-night, and you can come with me.'

"It was about my ordinary bedtime when we took a boat with two pair of
oars, and we pulled up the river about three miles above the city."

"What city?" I asked.

"The city where I was born, sir," he said, "and the name of which I must
be excused from mentioning for reasons connected with my only surviving
parent. There were houses on the river bank, but they were not very near
each other. Some of them had lights in them, but most of them were dark,
as it must have been after eleven o'clock. Before one of them my father
stopped rowing for a moment and looked at it pretty hard. It seemed to
be all dark, but as we pulled on a little I saw a light in the back of
the house.

"My father said nothing, but we kept on, though pulling very easy for a
mile or two, and then we turned and floated down with the tide. 'You
might as well rest, Thomas,' said he, 'for you have worked pretty hard.'

"We floated slowly, for the tide was just beginning to turn, and when we
got near the house which I mentioned, I noticed that there was no light
in it. When we were about opposite to it father suddenly looked up and
said, not speaking very loud, 'By George! if that isn't Williamson
Green's house. I wasn't thinking of it when we rowed up, and passed it
without taking notice of it. I am sorry for that, for I wanted to see
Williamson, and now I expect he has gone to bed.'

"'Who is Mr. Green?' I asked.

"'He is an old friend of mine,' said my father, 'and I haven't seen him
for some little while now. About four months ago he borrowed of me a
sextant, quadrant, and chronometer. They were instruments I took from
old Captain Barney in payment of some work I did for him. I wasn't
usin' them, and Williamson had bought a catboat and was studying
navigation; but he has given up that fad now and has promised me over
and over to send me back my instruments, but he has never done it. If
I'd thought of it I would have stopped and got 'em of him; but I didn't
think, and now I expect he has gone to bed. However, I'll row in shore
and see; perhaps he's up yet.'

"You see, ma'am," said the speaker to my wife, "I'm tellin' you all
these particulars because I am very anxious you should understand
exactly how everything happened on this night, which was the
turning-point of my life."

"Very good," said Aunt Martha; "we want to hear all the particulars."

"Well, then," continued the burglar, "we pulled up to a stone wall which
was at the bottom of Green's place and made fast, and father he got out
and went up to the house. After a good while he came back and said that
he was pretty sure Williamson Green had gone to bed, and as it wouldn't
do to waken people up from their sleep to ask them for nautical
instruments they had borrowed, he sat down for a minute on the top of
the wall, and then he slapped his knee, not making much noise, though.

"'By George!' he said, 'an idea has just struck me. I can play the
prettiest trick on Williamson that ever was played on mortal man. Those
instruments are all in a box locked up, and I know just where he keeps
it. I saw it not long ago, when I went to his house to talk about a
yacht he wants built. They are on a table in the comer of his bedroom.
He was taking me through the house to show me the improvements he had
made, and he said to me:--

"'"Martin, there's your instruments. I won't trouble you to take them
with you, because they're heavy and you're not going straight home, but
I'll bring them to you day after to-morrow, when I shall be goin' your
way."

"'Now, then,' said my father, 'the trick I'm thinkin' of playing on
Williamson is this: I'd like to take that box of instruments out of his
room without his knowing it and carry them home, having the boat here
convenient; and then in a day or two to write to him and tell him I must
have 'em, because I have a special use for 'em. Of course he'll be
awfully cut up, not having them to send back; and when he comes down to
my place to talk about it, and after hearing all he has to say, I'll
show him the box. He'll be the most dumbfoundedest man in this State;
and if I don't choose to tell him he'll never know to his dying day how
I got that box. And if he lies awake at night, trying to think how I got
it, it will serve him right for keeping my property from me so long.'

"'But, father,' said I, 'if the people have gone to bed you can't get
into the house to play him your trick.'

"'That can be managed,' says he; 'I'm rather old for climbing myself,
but I know a way by which you, Thomas, can get in easy enough. At the
back of the house is a trellis with a grape-vine running over it, and
the top of it is just under one of the second-story windows. You can
climb up that trellis, Thomas, and lift up that window-sash very
carefully, so's not to make no noise, and get in. Then you'll be in a
back room, with a door right in front of you which opens into Mr. and
Mrs. Green's bedroom. There's always a little night lamp burning in it,
by which you can see to get about. In the corner, on your right as you
go into the room, is a table with my instrument-box standing on it. The
box is pretty heavy, and there is a handle on top to carry it by. You
needn't be afraid to go in, for by this time they are both sound asleep,
and you can pick up the box and walk out as gingerly as a cat, having of
course taken your shoes off before you went in. Then you can hand the
box out the back window to me,--I can climb up high enough to reach
it,--and you can scuttle down, and we'll be off, having the best rig on
Williamson Green that I ever heard of in my born days.'

"I was a very active boy, used to climbing and all that sort of thing,
and I had no doubt that I could easily get into the house; but I did not
fancy my father's scheme.

"'Suppose,' I said, 'that Mr. Williamson Green should wake up and see
me; what could I say? How could I explain my situation?'

"'You needn't say anything,' said my father. 'If he wakes up blow out
the light and scoot. If you happen to have the box in your hand drop it
out the back window and then slip down after it. He won't see us; but
if he does he cannot catch us before we get to the boat; but if he
should, however, I'll have to explain the matter to him, and the joke
will be against me; but I shall get my instruments, which is the main
point, after all.'

"I did not argue with my father, for he was a man who hated to be
differed with, and I agreed to help him carry out his little joke. We
took off our shoes and walked quietly to the back of the house. My
father stood below, and I climbed up the trellis under the back window,
which he pointed out. The window-sash was down all but a little crack to
let in air, and I raised it so slowly and gently that I made no noise.
Then without any trouble at all I got into the room.

"I found myself in a moderate-sized chamber, into which a faint light
came from a door opposite the window. Having been several hours out in
the night my eyes had become so accustomed to darkness that this light
was comparatively strong and I could see everything.

"Looking about me my eyes fell on a little bedstead, on which lay one of
the most beautiful infants I ever beheld in my life. Its golden hair
lay in ringlets upon the pillow. Its eyes were closed, but its soft
cheeks had in them a rosy tinge which almost equalled the colour of its
dainty little lips, slightly opened as it softly breathed and dreamed."
At this point I saw my wife look quickly at the bedroom key she had in
her hand. I knew she was thinking of George William.

"I stood entranced," continued the burglar, "gazing upon this babe, for
I was very fond of children; but I remembered that I must not waste
time, and stepped softly into the next room. There I beheld Mr. and Mrs.
Williamson Green in bed, both fast asleep, the gentleman breathing a
little hard. In a corner, just where my father told me I should find it,
stood the box upon the table.

"But I could not immediately pick it up and depart. The beautiful room
in which I found myself was a revelation to me. Until that moment I had
not known that I had tastes and sympathies of a higher order than might
have been expected of the youthful son of a boat-builder. Those artistic
furnishings aroused within a love of the beautiful which I did not know
I possessed. The carpets, the walls, the pictures, the hangings in the
windows, the furniture, the ornaments,--everything, in fact, impressed
me with such a delight that I did not wish to move or go away.

"Into my young soul there came a longing. 'Oh!' I said to myself, 'that
my parents had belonged to the same social grade as that worthy couple
reposing in that bed; and oh! that I, in my infancy, had been as
beautiful and as likely to be so carefully nurtured and cultured as that
sweet babe in the next room.' I almost heaved a sigh as I thought of the
difference between these surroundings and my own, but I checked myself;
it would not do to made a noise and spoil my father's joke.

"There were a great many things in that luxurious apartment which it
would have delighted me to look upon and examine, but I forbore."

"I wish I'd been there," said the stout man; "there wouldn't have been
any forbearin'."

The speaker turned sharply upon him.

"Don't you interrupt me again," he said angrily. Then, instantly
resuming his deferential tone, he continued the story.

"But I had come there by the command of my parent, and this command must
be obeyed without trifling or loss of time. My father did not approve of
trifling or loss of time. I moved quietly toward the table in the
corner, on which stood my father's box. I was just about to put my hand
upon it when I heard a slight movement behind me. I gave a start and
glanced backward. It was Mr. Williamson Green turning over in his bed;
what if he should awake? His back was now toward me, and my impulse was
to fly and leave everything behind me; but my father had ordered me to
bring the box, and he expected his orders to be obeyed. I had often been
convinced of that.

"I stood perfectly motionless for a minute or so, and when the gentleman
recommenced his regular and very audible breathing I felt it safe to
proceed with my task. Taking hold of the box I found it was much heavier
than I expected it to be; but I moved gently away with it and passed
into the back room.

"There I could not refrain from stopping a moment by the side of the
sleeping babe, upon whose cherub-like face the light of the night lamp
dimly shone. The little child was still sleeping sweetly, and my impulse
was to stop and kiss it; but I knew that this would be wrong. The infant
might awake and utter a cry and my father's joke be spoiled. I moved to
the open window, and with some trouble, and, I think, without any noise,
I succeeded in getting out upon the trellis with the box under my arm.
The descent was awkward, but my father was a tall man, and, reaching
upward, relieved me of my burden before I got to the ground.

"'I didn't remember it was so heavy,' he whispered, 'or I should have
given you a rope to lower it down by. If you had dropped it and spoiled
my instruments, and made a lot of noise besides, I should have been
angry enough.'

"I was very glad my father was not angry, and following him over the
greensward we quickly reached the boat, where the box was stowed away
under the bow to keep it from injury.

"We pushed off as quietly as possible and rowed swiftly down the river.
When we had gone about a mile I suddenly dropped my oar with an
exclamation of dismay.

"'What's the matter?' cried my father.

"'Oh, I have done a dreadful thing!' I said. 'Oh, father, I must go
back!'

"I am sorry to say that at this my father swore.

"'What do you want to go back for?' he said.

"'Just to think of it! I have left open the window in which that
beautiful child was sleeping. If it should take cold and die from the
damp air of the river blowing upon it I should never forgive myself. Oh,
if I had only thought of climbing up the trellis again and pulling down
that sash! I am sure I could go back and do it without making the least
noise.' My father gave a grunt; but what the grunt meant I do not know,
and for a few moments he was silent, and then he said:--

"'Thomas, you cannot go back; the distance is too great, the tide is
against us, and it is time that you and I were both in our beds. Nothing
may happen to that baby; but, attend to my words now, if any harm should
come to that child it will go hard with you. If it should die it would
be of no use for you to talk about practical jokes. You would be held
responsible for its death. I was going to say to you that it might be as
well for you not to say anything about this little venture until I had
seen how Williamson Green took the joke. Some people get angry with very
little reason, although I hardly believe he's that sort of a man; but
now things are different. He thinks all the world of that child, which
is the only one they've got; and if you want to stay outside of jail or
the house of refuge I warn you never to say a word of where you have
been this night.'