Mrs. Raffles: Being the Adventures of an Amateur CrackswomanBangs, John Kendrick
General
Mrs. Raffles: Being the Adventures of an Amateur Crackswoman
Bangs, John Kendrick
Hornung, E. W. (Ernest William), 1866-1921 -- Parodies, imitations, etc.; Jewel thieves -- Fiction
I obeyed, and he bound them as tightly as though they were fastened
together with rods of iron. A moment later my feet and knees were
similarly bound and I was as fast in the toils as Gulliver, when the
Liliputians fell upon him in his sleep and bound him to the earth.
[Illustration: "AS KEEN AND HIGH-HANDED A PERFORMANCE AS I EVER
WITNESSED"]
And then I was a mute witness to as keen and high-handed a performance
as I ever witnessed. One by one every item of the Constant-Scrappe's
silver service, valued at ninety thousand dollars, was removed from the
sideboard and taken along the hall and placed in the tonneau of the
automobile. Next the safe in which lay not only the famous gold service
used only at the very swellest functions, said to have cost one hundred
and seventy-five thousand dollars for the gold alone, to say nothing of
the exquisite workmanship, but--it made me gnash my teeth in impotent
rage to see it--Henriette's own jewel-box containing a hundred thousand
dollars worth of her own gems and some thirty thousand dollars in cash,
was rifled of its contents and disposed of similarly to the silver in
the gaping maw of that damned automobile tonneau.
"Now," said the intruder, loosening my feet and releasing me from the
chair, "take me to my lady's boudoir. There is room in the car for a few
more objects of virtu."
I obeyed on the instant and a few moments later the scene of
below-stairs was repeated, with me powerless to resist. Pictures,
bric-a-brac, and other things to the tune of twenty thousand dollars
more were removed, as calmly and as coolly as though there were no law
against that sort of thing in the world.
"There!" cried the highwayman, as he returned after the last item of
his loot had been stowed away in the vehicle. "That'll make an
interesting tale for Friday morning's papers. It's the biggest haul I've
made in forty-eight years. Good-night, sir. When I am safely out of town
I'll telegraph the police to come and rescue you from your present
awkward position. And let me tell you, if you give them the slightest
hint of my personal appearance, by the hopping Harcourt, I'll come back
and kill you. See?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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