Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1903-05-25
06e Architect Burglar.

Cues Hdu DOtn naQ tnelr pantry WIN
dows forced open?"
did he? don't think was listen
ing"
THE Mumbys lost lot of plated
things-I know that he keeps his sill
yer in the bank, and lets his friends
use those horrible thick spoons-and
poor old Jellicoe had that hideous CEN
trepiece, given him by the cricket club
taken. Now it transpires that in all
probability the burglar, or the moving
spirit of the gang, is young man who
has been sketching houses in the
neighborhood. He processes to making
architectural drawings, and by so do
ing finds out all manner of Details"
That is certainly very original"
Original. l should think SO. In
formally sharp, call it." Mr.. Brom-
ley Brown here proceeded to read aloud
an extract from the newspaper.
The architect-burglar, for by this
sobriquet this accomplished criminal is
now known, has been seen, it is be-
lieved, not long ago in this neighbor-
hood, although probably he is now
many miles away from the scene of his
late exploits. He is described as a
young man of gentlemanlille and mill
tary appearance, with fair hair and
mustache, and wearing clothes of fash
ionable make"
Mr.. Bromley Brown was soon alb
sorbed in meditation. He pictured
himself, resolute, terrible, cunning,
bounding down this distinguished
criminal, bringing him to justice-af-
terward, in court, replying with tell
ing sarcasm to the cross-examination
of the prisoners counsel, and lastly,
complimented by the judge on the lu
cid, admirable way in which he had
given his evidence. Life was no long
er sordid aud prosaic; it was palpitat-
ing with romance. He fell asleep to the
accompaniment of the lark's song, and
dreamed that he was the chief of po-
lice in Russia. Waking up with
start, he heard the clock strike -.
Gracious mel" he cried aloud. With
his waking eyes he still seemed to see
the female Nihilist of his vision, point
ing revolver at his head. He
stretched himself and walked sadly
across the lawn toward the hedge that
bounded his garden. Below him was
the riband of white road, pine bor-
dered. Mr.. Bromley Brown started,
but much more violently this time.
Then he rubbed his face and eyes with
his handkerchief and uttered low
exclamation.
A few yards away in the road he
saw the figure of young man, tall,
fair, yes, and of Enthusiastically soldier
ly appearance, And he was slletching.
4 thrill ran down Mr. Browns spine.
He might not be the chief of the Rus
sian police, but was he not on the eve
of a discovery, an adventure, the pos
sible player in a great and dramatic
case? He coughed and unlocked the
gate leading to the road. In one mo-
ment his mind had been made up. He
would invite this young man, obvious
ly no other than the architect-burglar,
with friendly greeting, into his house.
A hurried word to the coachman would
send him, on swift feet for two of the
local police. Another messenger would
hasten to General Compton, the stern
est of county magistrates, and he would
arrive in time to be a witness of the
discontinue of a notorious criminal,
and OF the ingenuity and promptitude
of his old friend Brown. Meanwhile
the young man had looked up smiling
ly. In answer to the remarks of the
old gentleman by the hedge he said
that he had come a considerable dis
tance-that-and this with very
pleasant laugh-well, yes, he was
of time to finish his sketch after lun-
cheon, and that he thought it most
kind suggestion of his questioner to
| invite him to have some.
MIR. Bromley Brown, whose cheek
| had now lost much of its usual ruddi-
ness, walked with sct lips and q curl
| Gus enigmatic expression on his face
UP the stone steps on to the terrace,
and the young man, smiling and un-
concerned, fallowed him into the draw
| ing room. For one Instant Mr.. Brown
| glanced nervously at a silver box and
candlestick on Valentines writing ta-
i bic. Then, murmuring an excuse, he
ran, painting, TO the stables; in a chok-
ing voice dispatched the astonished
coachman for the police. and a helper,
with an impressive message scribbled
on card, to General Compton. On
his return he found the architect bur
glar laughing over favorite book OF
Valentines the DIARY of Nobody
and they two talked. Mr.. Brown, for
his part, with a curious absent mind
ednees, of books and different forms
of humor. The parlor maid inter-
rupted them to say that some cold
meat was ready, and the two men ad-
iourned to the dining room. The guest