The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1889-01-26

by their hands, their clothing, their
bearing-and we were afraid they were
not just what they should be. We re-
called certain grewsome stories of
counterfeiters, burglars, and other
criminals, who settle in respectable
neighborhoods, and only excited sus-
picion by the unreasonable hours
which they kept
Was that step up the stairs? 1
listened more intently. my wandering
thoughts recalled from all other sub
jects. Surely it was, and that was
another. There was a burglar in the
house. Isprang out of bed and envel-
oped myself in circular which
CHANGED to be hanging on chair, as l
had worn it out into the rain the pre-
ceding evening. II 1 was to receive a
burglar / was determined that the pro-
prieties should not suffer; l would
have something on besides my night
dress; while if he went to any other
room could steal along the dark halls
to alarm my brothers. and be less
noticeable in this dark wrap than in
my night-gown.
In spite of my boosted courage, my
heart beat very loudly as the step was
heard once more. and this time upon
the landing just outside of my own
door. / grasped the poker firmly,
however, trying to restore my wonted
courage by the pressure of that for
midable weapon in my hand. 1t was a
plain, heavy bar of iron, at which the
others often laughed, declaring that it
must make me tired to rake the fire.
The knob of the door turned slowly
and cautiously. and the burglar enters
the room. What would he do nextp
He closed the door as gently as he had
opened it, and for a moment seemed
undecided. Did he have a dark Ian
tern and a pistol? could not imagine
a burglar without such adjuncts, both
of which were unfamiliar objects to
me; and l shivered as thought of the
advantage which he would have over
me and my poker.
Evidently the dark lantern was not
in working order. however, for he SIM
ply struck a match. The little flame
showed me that our suspicious of our
new neighbors were not unfounded
upon reason-this was one of them.
They were certainly a gang of burglars.
He made step toward the dresser.
To reach it he must pass me. He was
within reach of my arm. 1 raised my
weapon, and, uttering the loudest
scream of which my lungs were capa-
BILE, struck him on the side of the
head. He fell like a log to the floor.
Horrors! had killed him!
My renewed screams alarmed the
house and the others were speedily by
my side. l had already lighted the
gas and was on my knees beside the
man that had struck, vainly endeav-
oring to recall life. My assortment of
restoratives, / was afterward assured.
was sufficient to have revived dozen
swooning men.
"What in the world" began my
brother as he appeared upon the scene.
He was the first to come to the room.
"Oh, my burglars comet l ex-
claimed, half Historically, "but I've
killed him."
wholly unnecessary severity" re-
marked Tom. ''you always overdo the
thing But that man isn't dead"
As If to confirm his words, the
burglar just then opened his eyes and
looked inquiringly around him.
He looks dazed," l whispered to
Tom.
He has occasion to look dazed If
you hit him with your beloved poker"
rejoined Tom, pushing me aside and
applying restoratives in his turn; "put
it where it belongs. and go get me
some brandy or whisky, or something
of the kind. Well have to get this fell
low on his feet before we call the po-
lice."
"I-I-was mistaken, SIR" said the
burglar in feeble voice, but with a
very decided manner. II was mis-
taken in the house. It appears that
the same latchkey unlocks both doors,
and got the wrong one."
"Yes. / think you did," rejoined
Tom. emphatically, and cycling him
with suspicion.
The burglar managed to scramble to
his feet, although could see that he
was still dizzy from the encounter
with my poker. l retired into the
closet and held the door shut-that is,
very nearly.
II think that you will do me the
favor to change your mind about send
inr for. tho r,clio< - be oaid xx.ul... L