Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1884-03-22
WAS HE A BURGLAR?
Mrs. M. L. Rayne in Detroit Free Press

l~Aao' IL. IL 1SaJ ue III DttIOiI r Tte ITeSS
! When the housemaid at Col. Ros.
siter's locked up the house for the
night she saw man wearing cap,
who seemed to be accommodating. She
said nothing about it because she be-
ieved the house to be invincible to bur-
glars, and she was sleepy and did not
want to go the rounds again. She left
the hall light burning, as was the
custom, and went off to bed in the part
of the house where the other servants
slept, dismissing the circumstance from
her mind as of no Importance.
A few hours later window ratified
in o lower easement. Mrs. Rossiter
heard it and called her husbands at
tention to it. He yawned sleepily and
said as he turned over:
"rhe wind is rising; it will be a
rough night on the lake"
Thus treasured Mrs. Rossiter fell
asleep again.
The window went ON creaking, lit
tie at time, then long rest, then it
was softly showed up and head was
thrust in and pair of keen eyes took
searching look at the rooms which
the hall light made plainly discernible.
There was nothing frightful about the
head. 1t was rather a good looking,
boyish head, with close cropped, nut
brown hair, covered by an old cloth
cap. The face had fine features, white
and distorted, it is true; the thin lips
were compressed with fierce decision,
handsome throat, and following these
1.-THE, sinewy body. that sprung, cat
like and vigilant, into the room, and
stood there erect and alert.
Then the midnight intruder did
strange thing. He went straight into
the hall, as if he belonged there, and
turned on the gas. After that he
walked to the parlor mantel and looked
at portrait that hung above it, one of
Col. Rossiter in full reginlentals. AS he
looked smile, or sheer, distorted the
burglars face--if he were burglar
and he muttered curse and turned
from that picture to others-a hand
some woman, wordly-looking and fash
ionable; two lovely children; then q
blank space on the wall as if q picture
had been taken down. At this the
burglar dug his finger-nails into the
palms of his hands and gritted his teeth
Then he turned softly away and went
upstairs.
Up, up, each step protested aloud
against the unhallowed intrusion; he
laid his hand on the baluster - it
groaned at his touch. At the top he
hesitated moment, and then turned to
the left. 1t was plain he knew the way.
Either he had been there before, or
conspirators had given him plan of
the house. A light burned low in the
room he entered, going softly like
cat or panther, or other dangerous beast
of prey! Two children lay sleeping on
the lace pillows of a white bed
two fair, happy, healthy children
in pretty ruffied nightgowns open at the
throat. They lay in the sweet confusion
of childish slumbers, tumbled and
tossed; their pink skins moist with the
health of refreshing sleep; their rosy
lips half inclosed like dewy rosebuds;
little puffs of fragrant breath disturb
ing the dimples in regular rhythm
What had this bad man to do with these
children that he leaned over them and
wrung his hands, and frowned and
dashed tears from his hardened ewes?
Oh! surely, he cannot mean-but nc
as noiselessly as he enters, he de-
parts, but as he goes he stumbles over
tne small shoes placed side by side at
the door. One baby sleeper half
wakens, murmurs Mamma" and with
sigh of satisfaction drops away again
into heaven of dreamland.
The man goes into another room, O
large, stately apartment, luxurious in
it's appointments. The door is closed,
but this man knows how to open it,
softly, remorselessly, and he steals in,
and there, too, burns soft, chamber
light. But he does not linger here. He
gives one keen glance at the gray head
lying on the pillow. He looks away
from the other pillow, steps softly
across the room, fumbles little, and
comes out swiftly with some dark object
ciasped in either hand. He breathes
hard; his nostrils are distended; drops
of water stand on his face. His right
hand clutches something with wise
like grip. His left hand is clenched
over small object that is clasped con
vulsively; one holds loaded and
cooked revolver, the other pocketful OF
money.
Then he is q burglar!
just as he reaches the door, the man
who is asleep stirs; he has had an ugly
dream about hayward son whom he
has disowned and disinherited-as if q
father dare ever disown his own flesh
and blood. He dreamed that his boy
was with him holding him by the hand;
calling him Papa" telling him of
school FRANKS and mistakes over which
they both laughed; asking for advice
and help which he gave cheerfnlly and
willingly. From this dream he passed
into another. His boy was in con
vict's cell, and rs the father stood be-
fore him broken hearted he was tainted
with having placed him there. The
boy had turned accuser and said We
hemently:
"You never loved me. You were al
ways too busy making money to hear
my wants. You and my mother owed
duty to society. i was left to ser
wants. This is the fruit OF your own
criminal negligence. am not to blame.
Ny father sent me here"
Heavens! was this his son? Ic
gasped for breath, and awakened witt
groan from the terrible nightmare
The man going out of the door prcsse,,
the trigger of his revolver and went
softly down the stairs. His heart was
beating so it almost smothered him. He
entered the long parlors and was about