Lewiston evening teller. [volume] (Lewiston, Idaho) 1903-1911, 1907-08-09
Capturing
A Burglar.
By Harriet Lammie Smith.
Copyright, 1907, by Mary McKeon.
By Harriet Lammie Smith.
Copyright, 1907, by Mary McKeon.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Scott sat on the step of the guildhan
and famed himself with his hat,
Through the open door came the sound
of feminine voices, animated and eager
The young mans eyes scanned the
landscape with something of wistful-
ness in their depths. He had noticed
one or two pretty girls in the throng
of older women who were engineering
the church supper, but apparently thev
were all too busy for conversational
advances. He reflected with sense
Of injury that his visit was opening
tamely.
Chester 1t was his aunt's brisk
voice, and Scott rose with alacrity. En-
ergetic Aunt Anne liked to see people
busy. In her summons he read prom
ise Of occupation and welcomed it re-
CARELESS of its nature. Nor was he
destined to be disappointed.
This Is my nephew, Mr.. Scott" said
Aunt Anne, addressing group of la
dies, who acknowledged the introduc-
ton by collective smile. "And he'll
be delighted to do any little errands
for u.s." she added generously. NOW,
Mrs. Anderson, tell him about your
spoons"
Mrs. Anderson beamed gratefully on
the young man. I'm sure it's awfully
kind of you, Mr.. Scott. You see, we're
short of spoons, and want to send you
for mine. Do you know Fayette street?
Yes, it crosses Main at right angles,
and my house Is yellow cottage on
the right, with woodbine over the
porch. You'll find the key under the
mat. Go straight through the hall into
the dining room, and the spoons are
In the left hand drawer of the side
board. It's just lovely of you to help
us out, Mr.. Scott"
The other ladies murmured assent,
and one or two of the younger flashed
appreciative glances in his direction.
SCOTS spirits rose He promised a
speedy return and started on his err
rand, rejecting as he went on the re-
freshing confidence of community
which left its keys under the door
mats and permitted strangers to have
access to its homes.
He had no difficulty in finding the
yellow cottage, and the key was, in its
place. He made his way through the
silent hall into the dining room, and
here he encountered his first check.
The spoons were not In the drawers
Of the sideboard. In fact, they were
not In the sideboard at all, though he
ransacked It thoroughly to make sure.
Opening the closet door, he was re-
warded by the sight of we'll stocked
silver chest, and he possessed himself
Of the spoons, promising himself
laugh at the expense of the owner OF
the silver, whose memory was so uu-
reliable.
Hold up your handsr
The request came in tones whose
determination could not be mistaken
and Scott spun on his heel to find him
self facing a revolver. Back of tho
revolver was a girl. She was a rather
tall girl with very white cheeks ami
absurdly long lashes. She wore gar
den hat, beneath which little tendril-
like curls festooned themselves about
her forehead. Under other circum-
stances Scott would have voted her
charming.
Hold up your handsv' said the girl
again, and Scott obeyed, rejecting that
1t was better to humor her first and
explain afterward. The spoons in his
pocket seemed to weigh a ton. He
felt hot and ridiculous.
"Your mother asked me- he began.
The girl interrupted him. II have
no mother. Your excuses will only
make a bad matter worse.'
Scott bit his lip. Absurd as the sit
uation was, it had serious side. He
spoke with as much dignity as was
consistent with standing before a beau
tiful girl with his hands on a level
with his ears. II was requested to
come here by the lady of the house."
he insisted.
ooh, indeed! Then perhaps you will
tell me her name"
Scott racked his brain. In the dis
traction Of that general introduction
Mrs. Anderson's name had failed to
imprint itself on his memory.
II don't know her name," he &C.
knowledged, 'but she is dark haired
woman, about forty-f1ve, should say,
with good deal Of color" He would
have gone further with his descrip-
ton, but the young woman checked
him by a gesture not to be misunder-
stood.
81 prefer to know no more of your
preposterous fiction" she said wither-
ingly. Evidently you are not as
shrewd as you think yourself. 1t hap
pens that l am the lady of this house
nj 10, IL L