The Staying Guest

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER X A SELF-MADE BURGLAR

  Thus steadfastly pursuing the straight and narrow path of rectitude,Ladybird arrived at Mr. Bates's farm and turned in at the gate.

  Her purpose had begun to waver a little, but she bolstered it up with herdetermination and enthusiasm, and vigorously rang the Bates door-bell.

  In a few moments a little girl tense with suppressed excitement, and ablinking, quivering dog sat facing a large, strong-looking man whose facebetokened humorous as well as muscular Christianity.

  "It's a crisis, Mr. Bates," began Ladybird; "it's a perfectly awfulcrisis; but of course when crisises come they have to be met, and I'mfully prepared to meet it. I hate it, I hate it something fearful! ButI'm going to do right, the whole right, and nothing but the right, and Iwant you to help me, Mr. Bates. Will you? I pause for a reply."

  Ladybird paused dramatically, and Mr. Bates, impressed with the spirit ofthe situation, placed his hand on his heart and replied:

  "You have only to command me, madam; my time and talents are entirely atyour service."

  "Well, you see it's this way," said Ladybird. "I have here a dog--a mostbeautiful and valuable dog--which I want to present to you."

  "To me?" said Mr. Bates, much astonished. "Don't you care for himyourself?"

  This simple question proved too much for Ladybird's unstable, thoughcarefully built structure of heroism.

  "Don't I care for him!" she repeated; and dropping her head on Cloppy'sfat back, she burst into one of her most spectacular storms of tears.

  Mr. Bates, though much distressed, had sufficient tact to say nothing fora few moments. Had his wife been at home, he would have called her tominister to the sobbing child; but as it was, he sat regarding Ladybirdwith a grave and kindly sympathy.

  "What is it, dear?" he said gently when there was a break in the stormand a pair of large dark eyes looked brightly through their wet lashes.

  "Oh, it's such a comfort to give way to your feelings, isn't it?" saidLadybird, conversationally. "But I really ought to have a waterproofhandkerchief; this one is perfectly soaked."

  Mr. Bates quietly took a folded handkerchief from his pocket, and shakingout the ample square of cambric, politely offered it to his visitor, whotook it gratefully.

  "It's a beautiful October day," he said, glancing out of the window, anddesiring to introduce a commonplace subject.

  "Yes," said Ladybird; "October is one of my favorites. I think it is theprettiest-colored month of the whole year, except, perhaps, April. But Imust proceed with my business; I'll promise not to cry again: that's overnow; but you see I care so very much for my dog that I forgot myself. Butmy aunt, Miss Flint, doesn't care for him just in the way I do, so shedesires that I should give him away; and as it is my duty to do as shewishes me, I have brought the dog to you as a free-will offering."

  "How do you know I want him?" said Mr. Bates, a little quizzically.

  "Oh, you couldn't help wanting him! Why, in the first place, he has awonderful pedigree: he's a real Yorkshire; but besides all that, he's thedearest, best, loveliest, sweetest dog in the whole world. Of course youcouldn't be supposed to feel intimately acquainted with him yet; but in aday or two you'll name him but to praise."

  "And your Aunt Priscilla doesn't like him? Why is that?"

  "Well, sir, you see my aunt, Miss Flint, is a very handsome and dignifiedlady. She doesn't admire such frivolous things as flippy-floppy littledogs, and they seem to interfere with her nerves. My aunt, Miss Flint, isof an old family and very exclusive, and has a great deal of what theycall the--the infernal feminine."

  "Yes, she has," said Mr. Bates, with grave acquiescence. "And your otheraunt, Miss Dorinda, doesn't she like your valuable dog either?"

  "Oh, Aunt Dorinda is different. She's younger, you know; or at least shecan't seem to let go of her youth as Aunt Priscilla does. But thatdoesn't matter; my aunt, Miss Flint, is head of the house, and she saysthe dog must go, so go it's going to! Now the thing is, will you takehim, Mr. Bates? I'm sure Mrs. Bates would like him--he's a dear dog."

  At this Ladybird's head went down on Cloppy's back again, and Mr. Batesfeared another deluge; but suddenly the child looked up with a brightsmile. "I could come to see him sometimes, couldn't I, Mr. Bates?"

  "I haven't said I'd take him yet. I'm a business man, you know. What isyour dog good for?"

  Ladybird considered.

  "Well now, do you know, I never thought of that; I don't know as he isgood for anything."

  "Bless my soul, child, do you expect me to accept a dog that is good fornothing?"

  "He isn't good for nothing," said Ladybird, indignantly; "he's awonderful comfort, and I guess that counts for a lot! Oh, and he _is_good for something, too: he can scare burglars away."

  "But no well-conducted burglar would stand greatly in awe of such a smallbundle of dog as that."

  "No," said Ladybird, earnestly; "but he would bark, you know, and rousethe family, and then they could shoo the burglar out."

  "Has he ever scared a burglar away from Primrose Hall?"

  "No, because we never had any to scare; but I know he could do it, and Ijust wish burglars had attacked us in the watches of the night, because Iknow Cloppy would have barked like fury, and so saved us all from murderand pillage; and then Aunt Priscilla would have loved him and wanted tokeep him."

  "Oh, you think she would?" said Mr. Bates, a queer look of mischiefcoming into his eyes.

  "I'm sure of it," said Ladybird.

  "But burglars never could get into Primrose Hall; isn't it securelylocked up every night?"

  "Aunty means to have it so," said Ladybird; "but old Matthew is soforgetful. Why, sometimes he leaves the parlor windows unfastened, andthey open right on the front piazza."

  "Oh, well, there are no burglars around here," said Mr. Bates,reassuringly; but his whole big frame seemed to be shaking withsuppressed laughter, for which Ladybird could see no just cause.

  "Now, I'll tell you what, child," he said: "I'll take your dog; but Imust speak to Mrs. Bates about it first, and she isn't home now. So youtake that animated mop back with you and tell your respected aunt thathis doom is sealed, but that he will have to stay one more night underher roof; then to-morrow you bring him back here, and I'll guaranteehe'll be well taken care of."

  "All right; and thank you, sir," said Ladybird, her grief at parting withthe dog temporarily forgotten in the fact that the farewell was to bepostponed for twenty-four hours. Then with a brief good-by, as if fearfullest Mr. Bates should change his mind, she darted out of the door andacross the fields.

  "It's all right, aunty," she cried as she flew into Primrose Hall: "theBateses are going to take Cloppy, but he can't go till to-morrow; theyhaven't got his room ready; but that's all right if you'll just let himstay here one more night. And now am I a good girl, aunty? I _do_ want tobe good."

  "Yes, you're a good girl," said her aunt, "and you have done your duty;but don't expect to be praised for it every minute. To do one's duty isright and even necessary, but not praiseworthy."

  "I think I'll go down to the orchard, Aunt Priscilla," said Ladybird;"the trees are so sympathetic."

  That night a strange thing happened at Primrose Hall.

  As he did nine times out of ten, old Matthew had left the front parlorwindows unfastened. But in that quiet country neighborhood no marauderhad ever profited by the old man's carelessness.

  The family went to bed as usual; the Flint ladies slept calmly in theirruffled night-caps behind their dimity curtains; the objectionable Cloppywas curled up on the foot of Ladybird's bed; and though that sad-heartedmaiden had firmly made up her mind to cry all night, she soon fell asleepand had only happy dreams.

  About midnight a large man with a firm tread walked boldly, but quietly,across the dooryard to the front door of Primrose Hall.

  He was presumably a burglar, but his attitudes and effects were by nomeans of the regulation type. Instead of skulki
ng as the traditionalburglar always does, he walked fearlessly and seemed to know exactlywhere he was going; while instead of a black mask his face wore a broadgrin, and he chuckled noiselessly as he looked at a large hatchet whichhe carried in his hand.

  Although he walked quietly up the veranda steps, he used no especialcaution in opening the front window. It slid easily up, and the burglarstepped over the sill, heedless of the fact that his muddy boots madehuge tracks on the light carpet. He struck several matches in quicksuccession, blowing each out and throwing it on the floor; he thendeliberately pocketed two or three articles of value which lay on thecenter-table. An old silver card-case, an antique snuff-box, and a smallsilver dish were appropriated; and then turning to a white marble bust ofa foolish-looking lady in a big hat, which stood on a mottled-greenpedestal, he calmly knocked it over, and laughed as it crashed into athousand pieces.

  This sound was quickly followed by a few short, sharp yelps from above,which developed into a loud and ferocious barking.

  A smile of intense satisfaction spread over the burglar's features; helaid his hatchet carefully in the middle of the floor, removed his oldfelt hat and placed it half-way between the hatchet and the window, andthen went out the way he came in. On the steps he laid gently thesnuff-box and card-case, and dropped the silver tray on the grass in theyard; then turning for a last glance, to make sure that the family werearoused, and seeing flickering lights in the windows, he pulled a clothcap from his pocket, put it on his head, and went back home, stillchuckling.

  Inside of Primrose Hall all was confusion. Cloppy's frantic and continuedbarking had awakened everybody, and though all were convinced thatburglars were in the house, none dared go down-stairs to investigate.

  The Flint sisters, though scared out of their wits, possessed a certainsub-consciousness that was pleased at this opportunity of donning theirfire-gowns and best caps. The servants were variously frightenedaccording to their respective dispositions; and Ladybird was quite in herelement, for to her any excitement was pleasurable, no matter what mightbe its cause.

  "Let me go down! Let me go down, aunty!" she cried, dancing about in theupper hall.

  "Be quiet, child! Of course you can't go down; there is probably a wholegang of burglars, and they'd kill you and then come up for us. Look outfor Cloppy; don't let him get down."

  "But I don't hear any noise down there now, aunty; I think the burglarshave gone: Cloppy scared them away by his barking."

  "Stay where you are, Ladybird," said Miss Priscilla, sternly. "Matthew,go down-stairs and see what caused that commotion."

  "Yes, ma'am," said Matthew; but his old knees were shaking with fear, andhe made no motion to carry out his mistress's orders.

  "Come on, Matthew," cried Ladybird, grasping his hand, "don't be afraid;I'll go with you," and before Miss Flint could stop her, Ladybird wasdancing down-stairs, dragging the old man with her.

  The child had provided herself with a candle, and hand in hand, she andMatthew reached the parlor door and looked in.

  Then Ladybird treated the listeners to one of her best blood-curdlingyells.

  "Oh, gracious, glorious goodness!" she cried, "here's a hatchet! They_were_ going to kill us! Come down, aunty; there's nobody here but ahatchet. And your white lady is all smashed to smithereens! And here'smatches all over! And here's one of the burglar's hats! Oh, aunty, comedown; truly there's nobody here!"

  Timidly the Misses Flint, followed by Bridget and Martha, came down andviewed with dismay the havoc in the parlor. At first Miss Priscilla wasovercome with sorrow at the smashed marble; then appalled with fear attheir narrow escape from the dreadful hatchet; but was most deeplystirred by indignation at the muddy footprints on the carpet.

  "They'll never come out," she wailed; "those spots will always show!"

  "Don't be foolish, Priscilla," said her sister; "be thankful you're hereto scrub at them, and not dead in your bed, hatcheted into eternity by agory villain!"

  "Oh, I _am_ thankful," moaned Miss Priscilla. "And to think we owe ourlives to that blessed little dog! Ladybird, don't you ever hint at givinghim away! The Bateses can't have him. Why, I wouldn't be safe a minutewithout that dog in the house!"

  And so the next day Ladybird went over to tell Mr. Bates she had changedher mind about giving him the dog.

  That good man was greatly interested in the story of the burglars, but heseemed much more anxious to hear how the Flint ladies were affected by itthan to learn the details of the burglary itself.

  "And when the burglars heard Cloppy bark," went on Ladybird, thrilled bythe exciting mental picture, "they dropped their hatchet and ran. And thehatchet had a B cut on it."

  "It did?" said Mr. Bates, suddenly startled. "Oh, well, that stands forBurglar."

  "And he left a horrid old hat. And he must have been awful scared, for heonly stole three things; but they were three of aunty's pet treasures.And what do you think! We found them, all three, this morning, out on thepiazza and lawn!"

  "Then he did no real damage?" said Mr. Bates.

  "Oh, yes; he smashed Aunt Priscilla's head."

  "What?"

  "Oh, I don't mean her own head, but that big marble one, or plaster orsomething; it's called 'Cherry Ripe,' and it was a work of art."

  "It was a civic calamity," said Mr. Bates.

  "I don't know what civic means," said Ladybird; "but it was an awfulcalamity, and Aunt Priscilla feels perfectly dreadful about it. Butanyhow, Cloppy saved us all from our untimely ends, and so aunty sayswe're going to keep Cloppy, and so it has all turned out right."

  "Yes," said Mr. Bates, with a smile of deep satisfaction, "it all turnedout right."