"Forty-two," said Clara, "twenty-four in the dining-room and eighteen in the parlor." "Forty-two is the number; as a last favor please find room for them; if you don't want them drop them in a river or bury them somewhere. We really would appreciate it. It's our last chance." "All right," said the burglar in an altered tone. "Don't you worry now, we'll attend to that." "Remember there are forty-two--if you would count them." "That's all right--just you rest easy," said the burglar soothingly. "I'll see they all get in." "Really, if I could be of any assistance downstairs," I said anxiously, "I might really help." "Oh, don't you worry, Bub, my pals are real careful muts," said the burglar nervously. "Now just keep calm. We'll get 'em all." It suddenly burst upon me that he took me for a lunatic. I buried my head in the covers and rocked back and forth between tears and laughter. "Hi! what the ----'s going on up there?" cried a voice from downstairs. "It's all right--all right, Bill," said our burglar hoarsely, "very affable party up here. Say, hurry it up a bit down there, will you?" All at once it struck me that if I really frightened him too much they might decamp without making a clean sweep. I sobered at once. "I'm not crazy," I said. "Sure you're not," said the burglar conciliatingly. "But I assure you--" "That's all right." "I'm perfectly sane." "Sane as a house!" "There's nothing to be afraid of." "Course there isn't. Hi, Bill, won't you hurry up there!" "I'll explain--" "Don't you mind that." "This is the way it is--" "That's all right, we know all about it." "You do--" "Sure, we got your letter." "What letter?" "Your telegram then." "See here, I'm not crazy--" "You bet you're not," said the burglar, edging towards the door and changing the key. "Hold up!" I cried in alarm, "don't be a fool. What I want is for you to get everything--everything, do you hear?" "All right, I'll just go down and speak to him." "Hold up--" "I'll tell him." "Wait," I cried, jumping out of bed in my desire to retain him. At that moment a whistle came from below and with an exclamation of relief our burglar slammed the door and locked it. We heard him go down three steps at a time and rush out of the house. "Now you've scared them away," said Clara, "with your idiotic humor." I felt contrite and alarmed. "How could I help it?" I said angrily, preparing to climb out on the roof of the porch. "I tried to tell him." With which I scrambled out on the roof, made my way to the next room and entering, released Clara. At the top of the steps we stood clinging together. "Suppose they left it all behind," said Clara. "Or even some!" "Oh, George, I know it--I know it!"