The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1903-04-22

week that the Mumbys and the Jelli-
Goes had both had their pantry win
dows forced open?"
did he? | don't think was listen
ing"
THE Mumbys lost a 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 hldeous 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 a 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. | should think so. In
formally sharp, | call It," Mr.. Brom-
ley Brown here proceeded to read aloud
an extract from the newspaper.
1.-The 'architect-burslar,' for by this
sobriquet this accomplished criminal is
now known, has been seen, it is be-
lleved, 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 gentlemanlke 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 q
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 a 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 sketching.
A 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 discovery, an adventure, the pos
sible player in 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 q witness of the
discontinue of a notorious criminal
and of the ingenuity and promptltude
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
thirsty. and that there would be plenty
of time to finish his sketch after lun-
cheon. and that he thought 1t a most
kind suggestion OF his questioner tc
invite him to have some.
MIR. Bromley Brown, whose cheel
had now lost much of its usual ruddi.
ness. walked with set lips and a 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 aht
candlestlck on Valentines writing ta
Bile. Then, murmurlng an excuse, h'
ran, painting. to the stables; in choli
ing voice dispatched. the astonishel
coachman for the police. and q helper
with an impressive message scrlhblei
on a card. to General Compton. o.
his return he found the architect-bur
glar laughing over favorite book 0
Valentines the DIARY of Nobody
and they two talked. Mr.. Brown, 70
his part. with curious ahseut mind
edness. of books and different form
OF humor. Tho parlor maid inter
rupted them to say that some col
meat was ready, and the two men ad
journed to the dining room. The gues