The meal over, Charlie Swift took out a pencil and paper. “Now,” said he. “To business!”
Samuel pulled up his chair and the other drew a square. “This is a house I've been studying. It's on a corner—these are streets, and here's an alley. This is the side door that I think I can open. There's a door here and one in back here. Fix all that in your mind.”
“I have it,” said the boy.
“You go in, and here's the entrance hall. The front stairs are here. What I'm after is the family plate, and it's up on the second floor. I'll attend to that. The only trouble is that over here beyond the library there's a door, and, somebody sleeps in that room. I don't know who it is. But I want you to stay in the hall, and if there's anyone stirs in that room you're to dart upstairs and give one whistle at the top. Then I'll come.”
“And what then?”
“This is the second floor,” said Charlie, drawing another square. “And here's the servant's stairway, and we can get down to this entrance in the rear, that I'll open before I set to work. On the other hand, if you hear me whistle upstairs, then you're to get out by the way we came. If there's any alarm given, then it's each for himself.”
“I see,” said Samuel; and gripped his hands so that his companion might not see how he was quaking.
Charlie got out his kit and examined it to make sure that the police had kept nothing. Then he went to a bureau drawer and got a revolver, examined it and slipped it into his pocket. “They kept my best one,” he said. “So I've none to lend you.”
“I—I wouldn't take it, anyway,” stammered the other in horror.
“You'll learn,” said the burglar with a smile.
Then he sat down again and drew a diagram of the streets of Lockmanville, so that Samuel could find his way back in case of trouble. “We don't want to take any chances,” said he. “And mind, if I get caught, I'll not mention you—wild horses couldn't drag it out of me. And you make the same promise.”
“I make it,” said Samuel.
“Man to man,” said Charlie solemnly; and Samuel repeated the words.
“How did you come to know so much about the house?” he asked after a while.
“Oh! I've lived here and I've kept my eyes open. I worked as a plumber's man for a couple of months and I made diagrams.”
“But don't the police get to know you?”
“Yes—they know me. But I skip out when I've done a job. And when I come back it's in disguise. Once I grew a beard and worked in the glass works all day and did my jobs at night; and again I lived here as a woman.”
“A woman!” gasped the boy.
“You see,” said the other with a laugh, “there's more ways than one to prove your fitness.” And he went on, narrating some of his adventures—adventures calculated to throw the glamour of romance about the trade of burglar. Samuel listened breathless with wonder.
“We'd better get a bit of sleep now,” said Charlie later on. “We'll start about one.” And he stretched himself out on the bed, while the other sat motionless in the chair, pondering hard over his problem. There was no sleeping for Samuel that night.
He would carry out his bargain—that was his decision. But he would not take his share of the plunder, except just enough to pay Mrs. Stedman. And he would never be a burglar again!
At one o'clock he awakened his companion, and they set out through the deserted streets. They crossed the bridge to the residential part of town; and then, at a corner, Charlie stopped. “There's the place,” he said, pointing to a large house set back within a garden.
They gazed about. The coast was clear; and they darted into the door which had been indicated in the diagram. Samuel crouched in the doorway, motionless, while the other worked at the lock. Samuel's knees were trembling so that he could hardly stand up.
The door was opened without a sound having been made, and they stole into the entrance. They listened—the house was as still as death. Then Charlie flashed his lantern, and Samuel had quick glimpses of a beautiful and luxuriously furnished house. It was nothing like “Fairview,” of course; but it was finer than Professor Stewart's home. There was a library, with great leather armchairs; and in the rear a dining room, where mirrors and cut glass flashed back the far-off glimmer of the light.
“There's your door over there,” whispered Charlie. “And you'd better stay behind those curtains.”
So Samuel took up his post; the light vanished and his companion started for the floor above. Several times the boy heard the stairs creaking, and his heart leaped into his throat; but then the sounds ceased and all was still.
The minutes crawled by—each one seemed an age. He stood rooted to the spot, staring into the darkness—half-hypnotized by the thought of the door which he could not see, and of the person who might be asleep behind it. Surely this was a ghastly way for a man to have to gain his living—it were better to perish than to survive by such an ordeal! Samuel was appalled by the terrors which took possession of him, and the tremblings and quiverings which he could not control. Any danger in the world he would have faced for conscience' sake; but this was wrong—he knew it was wrong! And so all the glow of conviction was gone from him.
What could be the matter? Why should Charlie be so long? Surely he had had time enough to ransack the whole house! Could it be that he had got out by the other way—that he had planned to skip town, and leave Samuel there in the lurch?
And then again came a faint creaking upon the stairs. He was coming back! Or could it by any chance be another person? He dared not venture to whisper; he stood, tense with excitement, while the sounds came nearer—it was as if some monster were creeping upon him in the darkness, and folding its tentacles about him!
He heard a sound in the hall beside him. Why didn't Charlie speak? What was the matter with him? What—
And then suddenly came a snapping sound, and a blinding glare of light flashed up, flooding the hallway and everything about him. Samuel staggered back appalled. There was some one standing there before him! He was caught!
Thus for one moment of dreadful horror. And then he realized that the person confronting him was a little girl!
She was staring at him; and he stared at her. She could not have been more than ten years old, and wore a nightgown trimmed with lace. She had bright yellow hair, and her finger was upon the button which controlled the lights.............