"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 youngman," said Aunt Martha quickly. "Both the others admitted that he hadnothing to do with this affair except as a journalist, and although I donot think he ought to get his realistic ideas in that way, I wouldconsider it positively wicked to send him into court in company withthose other men. Consider the position in which he would be placedbefore the world. Consider his young wife."
"I cannot say," said my wife, "that I am inclined to believe all partsof his story."
"I suppose," said I, laughing, "that you particularly refer to theinvisible dog-snake."
"I'm not so sure about all that," she answered. "Since the labours ofthe psychic researchers began, we have heard of a great many strangethings; but it is evident that he is a young man of education andculture, and in all probability a journalist or literary man. I do notthink 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 havesent the trio to the county town, where, if any one of them could provehis innocence, he could do so before the constitutional authorities; buthaving submitted the matter to my wife and aunt, I could not welloverride their decision. As for what the young man said, I gave it noweight whatever, for of course he would say the best he could forhimself. But the testimony of the others had weight. When they bothdeclared that he was not a burglar, but merely a journalist, engaged inwhat he supposed to be his duty, it would seem to be a cruel thing tostamp 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 notime should be lost in setting the young man free, for should thepeople in town arrive and see him sitting bound with the others it wouldruin his character forever. My wife agreed.
"Whatever there may be of truth in his story," she said, "one of twothings is certain,--either he has had most wonderful experiences out ofwhich he may construct realistic novels which will give him fortune andreputation, or he has a startling imagination, which, if used in theproduction of works in the romantic school, will be of the sameadvantage to his future. Looking upon it, even in this light and withoutany reference to his family and the possible effects on his own moralnature, we shall assume a great responsibility in deliberatelysubjecting such a person to criminal prosecution and perhapsconviction."
This was enough. "Well," said I, "we will release the young fellow andsend the two other rascals to jail."
"That was not well expressed," said my wife, "but we will not criticisewords at present."
We returned to the library and I announced my decision. When he heard itthe stout burglar exhibited no emotion. His expression indicated that,having been caught, he expected to be sent to jail, and that was the endof it. Perhaps he had been through this experience so often that he hadbecome used to it. The tall man, however, took the announcement in avery different way. His face grew dark and his eyes glittered. "You aremaking a great mistake," he said to me, "a very great mistake, and youwill have to bear the consequences."
"Very good," said I, "I will remember that remark when your trial comeson."
The behaviour of the young man was unexceptional. He looked upon us witha face full of happy gratitude, and, as he thanked us for the kindfavour and the justice which we had shown him, his eyes seemed dim withtears. Aunt Martha was much affected.
"I wonder if his mother is living," she whispered to me. "A wife is agreat deal, but a mother is more. If I had thought of her sooner I wouldhave spoken more strongly in his favour. And now you should untie him atonce 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 letme depart as soon as possible. I feel a great repugnance to be seen incompany with these men, as you may imagine, from wearing a mask oncoming here. If I leave immediately I think I can catch the first trainfrom your station."
I considered the situation. If I did what I was asked, there would betwo bound burglars to guard, three women and a child to protect, anuncertain stranger at liberty, and only David and myself to attend tothe whole business. "No, sir," said I, "I shall not untie you until theofficers I sent for are near at hand; then I will release you, and youcan leave the house by the back way without being seen by them. Thereare other morning trains which will take you into the city earlyenough."
"I think you are a little hard on him," remarked Aunt Martha, but theyoung man made no complaint.
"I will trust myself to you, sir," he said.
The officers arrived much sooner than I expected. There were five ofthem, including the Chief of Police, and they were accompanied byseveral volunteer assistants, among whom was the milkman who had beenmy messenger. This morning his customers might wait for their milk, forall business must give way before such an important piece of sightseeingas this.
I had barely time to untie the young man and take him to the back of thehouse before the officers and their followers had entered the frontdoor. There was now a great deal of questioning, a great deal ofexplanation, a great deal of discussion as to whether my way of catchingburglars was advisable or not, and a good deal of talk about the bestmethod of taking the men to town. Some of the officers were in favour ofreleasing the two men, and then deciding in what manner they should betaken to town; and if this plan had been adopted, I believe that thesetwo alert and practical rascals would have taken themselves out of myhouse without the assistance of the officers, or at least would havecaused a great deal of trouble and perhaps injury in endeavouring to doso.
But the Chief of Police was of my mind, and before the men were entirelyreleased from the ropes by which I had tied them, they were securelymanacled.
A requisition made on David and myself to appear as witnesses, the twomen were taken from the house to the wagons in which the officers andtheir followers had come. My wife and Aunt Martha had gone upstairsbefore the arrival of the police, and were watching the outsideproceeding from a window.
Standing in the hallway, I glanced into the dining-room, and wassurprised to see the young man still standing by a side door. I hadthought him gone, but perhaps it was wise in him to remain, and not showhimself upon the road until the coast was entirely clear. He did not seeme, and was looking backward into the kitchen, a cheerful and animatedexpression upon his face. This expression did not strike me pleasantly.He had escaped a great danger, it was true, but it was no reason forthis rather obtrusive air of exultation. Just then Alice came into thedining-room from the kitchen, and the young man stepped back, so thatshe did not notice him. As she passed he gently threw his arm quietlyaround her neck and kissed her.
At that very instant, even before the girl had time to exclaim, inrushed David from the outer side door.
"I've been watching you, you rascal," he shouted; "you're done fornow!" and he threw his strong arms around the man, pinioning his arms tohis 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 mostfrenzied efforts to free himself, but David's arms were strong, his soulwas 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 thehallway and out of the front door, Alice aiding us greatly by puttingher hands against the man's back and pushing most forcibly.
"Here's another one," cried David. "I'll appear against him. He's theworst of the lot."
Without knowing what it all meant, the Chief clapped the nippers on ourprisoner, justly believing that if burglars were about to showthemselves so unexpectedly, the best thing to do was to handcuff them asfast as they appeared, and then to ask questions. The reasons for nothaving produced this man before, and for pro
ducing him now, were notvery satisfactory to the officer.
"Have you any more in the cellar?" he asked. "If so, I should like totake 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. "Whatright have you to put irons upon him?"
"Aunt Martha," said I, stepping back to her, "what do you think he hasdone?"
"I don't know," said she; "how should I know? All I know is that weagreed to set him free."
I addressed her solemnly: "David and I believe him to be utterlydepraved. He availed himself of the first moments of
The Stories of the Three Burglars Page 18
