Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-10-18
THE BURGLARS BLUKDER.

As Mr.. Bennett mace THIS observation
to himself, he slipped the window up and
stepped into the room. He stood for a
moment listening. Within, all was still
without, not sound disturbed the silence
of the night.
"I think it's all serene"
1t is probable that Mr.. Bennett smiled
He was engaged in the exercise OF his
profession, and it consoled him to per-
ceiye that on this occasion the stars
seemed to be fighting on his side. de
drew down the window softly and re-
placed the blind. 1t was principle OF
his never to leave anything which might
give a hint to the outside public OF
what was gong on within. The room,
with the blind down, was intensely dark.
He nut his hand into his pocket and
drew ont a little shaded lantern. eau
tiously removing the shutter about hall
an inch. a pencil of light cleaned across
the room. He was apparently content
with this illumination. BY its aid ne
carefully examined foor, walls and cell
ing.
"Early English. 1 thought So"
This remark referred to the uphoistering
of the room, which was in the Early Eng
lish style. STOPPING down, he drew pair
of list slippers over his india-rubber shoes.
With swift, cat-like steps he strobe across
the floor and left the rooC. He was evil
IDENTIFY familiar with his ground. The
burglars profession, to be prohtably prac-
ticed. entails no inconsiderable labor. 1t
is quite an error to suppose that the
burglar has only to stroll along the street
and break into the first house which
catches his eye. Not at all Such a course
is altogether unprofessional. Persons who
do that kind OF thing get what they de-
serve-"stir," and plenty of it. A really
professional man, an artist-such, for ex-
ample, as Mr. Bennett-works on entirely
different lines. He had had this little job
in his minds eye for the last three months
Acacia Villa presented an almost ideal
illustration of the promising crib to crack.
Did he rush at 1t on that account? Q1ite
the other way. He prepared his ground.
He discovered what all the world-in that
Observation-Disclosures already, that it was
occupied by single lady and solitary
maid. That fact alone would have induced
some men to make a dash at it before IN
scrupulous competitors had had an oppor-
tunity to take the bread out of their
mouths. But Mr.. Bennett was made Of
other stuff,
1t was situated in lonely suburb, and
in lonely portion of the lonely suburb.
1t stood in its own grounds. There was
not dog about the place. There was not
shutter to window. There was no
basement to the house-you had only to
step from the ground to the window sill,
and from the window sill into the house
These facts would have been so many ex-
ira inducements to the average burglar to
''put up" the place at once.
But Mr.. Bennett looked at the matter
from different standpoint He did not
ask if he could crack the crib-he had
never vet encountered one which had mas
tered him-but whether the crib was
really worth the cracking. The very de-
fenselessness of the place was against it
in his eyes, at any rate-at first. People
who have anything very well worth steal
ing do not, as a rule, leave it at the mercy
of the first individual who passes by
though there are exceptions to the rule.
Mr.. Bennett discovered that there was one,
and the discovery revealed the artist in the
man.
IGe occupant of Acacia Villa was Miss
Cecilia Jones. Mr.. Bennett had never
seen Miss Cecilia Jones. Nobody-or
hardly anybody-ever had. There APP
peared to be mystery about Miss Cecilia
Jones. But Mr. Bennett had seen the
maid, and not only seen her, but promised
to marry her as well. This was promise
which he never made to any woman unless
actually compelled; the present had been
case Of actual compulsion.
The maids name was Hannah-Miss
Hannah Welsh. She was not young and
she was not good-looking. Mr. Bennett
was partial to both youth and beauty. Ii
went against the grain to court Miss Welsh
But he found that courtship was an abso-
lutely indispensable preliminary. After
he had encircled her waist a few time:
with his arm and tasted the nectar of hel
lips-also few times-Miss Welsh begar
gradually to unbend. But the process was
very gradual. She was the most reticen
of maidens. He had not only to present
her with several presents-the proceeds O
the exercise of his professionals had moi
only to promise to marry her, he had no
only to name the day, but he had even t.
buy, or steal-the words were synonymous
with him-the wedding ring before all the
tale was told. When he had actually triet
the wiring on Miss Welsh's finger, to see i
it would fit, then, and only then, he hearC
all there was TO hear.
Miss Jones was queer; not mad exactly
but peculiar. She had quarreled with all
her relatives. She was rich. She was
full OF crotchets. She distrusted all the
world. particularly bankers. To such {
length had she carried her want of conf
dence that she had realized all her fortune
turned it into specie, and kept it in tn
house. 1t was at this point that Mis-
Welsh's conversation became interestin,
to Mr.. Bennett.
"Keeps it in the house, does she? Il
notes, l SUPPOSE
"Then you suppose wrong. She won
have ANYTHING to do with notes-trust her
It's all in gold and diamonds"
Diamonds? How do you know they'r
diamonds ??
Miss Welsh glanced at him out of tn
corner of her eyes. The conversation wa
carried on in the back garden at Aca@
Villa. which was extensive and secluded
The time was evening, that season which
is popularity supposed to be conducive t
sentimental intercourse.
perhaps / know as much about dia
rnonds as here and there few"
Her tone was peculiar, almost suggest
i've. For an instant Mr.. Bennett medl
tated making clean breast of it, and ask
ing Miss Welsh to come in on sharin
terms But he had an incurable obleC
ton to collaboration. Besides, in thi
case, sharing terms would probably meal
that he would have to go through tn
form, at any rate, OF making her his wife
"Where does she keep them? In safe
l hope"
lie did not hope so, though he said h
did. At the very best, safe, to pre-
fessional man, means the wasting of valu