Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-06-01
Story ofaDmed1c Crisis
ByArwoM Bennett

the eight, floor of the vast block by the simple
device of going up in the lift-to the ninth
floor, and walking down the stairs to the eighth.
The night mtman, injurious and utterly
suspicious had saluted him with respect, taking
him for friend of some tenant of the ninth
h0or-a friend who knew his way about the
place. The principal bedrooms of the Reels
fat gave the north quadrangle. The Serv-
ice room (for waiters) next to the Reels fiat
was, as generally at that hour, empty. Mr..
Fassbrooke entered it by the door and left it by
the window
In minute he was on one of the Reels
balconies. In another minute he had opened
a French window. The blind drawn; the
curtains were drawn; but neither blind nor
curtains present any serious obstacle to
a determined nalefactor 4. Mr.. Fassbrooke
stood within the room, which was as dark as
polar night. He used his electric torch. Then
it was that his ear caught a sound-indeed
cough
Thoughts ran through Mr.. FaSbrookes head
in gaIloping procession. Burglary mugs
game, the last resource of idiots. He had been
well aware of this fact, but he had forgotten 1t.
Now he was aware of it again. You ran fam
tastic risks. And the profits, even when you
could realize them with safety, were entirely
insufficient to atone for the risks. He had
never been caught though at least once he
had escaped arrest only by the clemency OF
heaven. Gin any case, he was caught now)
lie must ACT Instantly, wisely, perIeebly. E1S
shut of the torch as preliminary precauton.
Futile. Anthony Reels switched on the bed light
The pair were face to face. Anthony had the
formidable appearance of q tousled mailman.
capable Of inordinate homcidal furieS. And Mr..
Fassbreoke, though admittedly an idiot. was
not idiot enough to carry arms in the pursuit
of his nocturnal profession.
"Are you specialist they've sent?" Anthony
asked, at q loss.
"Yes," Mr. Fassbrooke replied.
I'm supposed to be very ILL.," said Anthony.
do specialists carry tofches?
"I do" said Mr. Fasshrooke.
A pause.
'T see what it is" Anthony went on with q
Mnatic smile, suddenly enlightened. you're
cat burglar, that's what you are. Evening dress
and alll'
NO." said Mr.. FassbrOoke, feebly and uncon-
vincingly.
"Then what are you doing here? What are
you?"
I'm an ass" said MIR. Fassbrooke.
"T dare say" Anthony agreed, glancing at the
timepiece. But yon can't come along being an
ass in peoples bed rooms at IL o'clock at night.
It isn't done" Anthony sprang up threaten
ingly. you get out. No, not by the door. The
way you got in. BY the window-must have
been. And look quick!"
1T can't" said Mr.. Fassbrooke.
Anthony,s tone suddenly changed to the mildly
inquiring:
Now tell me why not? I've often wanted
to know all about cat burglars. Tell me and
I'll let you CO. promise"
Its like this" said Mr. FaSsbrooke. 81 took
off my oVercoat-"
"Ohl So you had an overcoat2"
Eyes. I was in the service room and took
off my overcoat and threw it from the window
there on to your balcony here and then just
sort Of sprang from the window sill on to the
edge of the balcony and hung on to the rail
and climbed over, and here I But 7
couldn't jump back from the balcony to the
window sill. hope make myself clear"
you dol You dol" said Anthony.
"And where's your overcoat now?"
Hanging on the balcony rail"
"Thatn do" said Anthony. Remove your
self. I've had enough of you. If you meet any
body IN the passage of the hall, don't argue;
just go straight ON. There are two latches on
the front door. It's the top one that you need.
Heyl One moment. I've dropped my cough
lozenges under the bed. You might pick them
up for me-there's a good fellow"
It was while MIR. Fassbrooke was obediently
ferreting under the bed that Luce Reels added
herself to the scene
MIR. FASSBRoOKE recognized the vivacious
voice of his late customer Luce Reels, and
ne fegned death-an example of what is called
natures protective mimicry. Luce's mind had
been fun of another matter; but the strange
spectacle Of q man on his knees, and his head
beneath the bed, dislodged the other matter
with a jerk.
Who is this gentleman" she demanded.
The imitation corpse did not stir.
HE Just looked in to pick up my cough
lozenges. They've dropped somewhere" An
thony explained, with q half -maniacal laugh.
But who Is hep
IT know everything about him except his
name, my DEAR" Anthony continued
But who let him IMP"
HE let himself in--by the window He's
burglar, and the finest kind Of burglar cat
burglar. As he's been so kind about my cough