[Illustration: WIRE, STRING, JEMMY, SCREWS, WEDGES AND SOCKS OF PORTICO THIEVES.] Its wearer was a most unfortunate individual, and there is every reason to believe that he has the warm sympathy of all his brother professionals. He was "specially engaged" on a public-house in the New North Road after closing time. He was found under a bed, and hurried to get away, being most determinedly chased by the energetic landlord. The owner of the black billycock, fancying he saw a means of escape, made for a window. But his patent hat and face protector served him a shabby trick. The man only saw a window and not the iron bars, between a couple of which his head lodged as though specially designed for the purpose. [Illustration: PEACE'S LADDER.] The landlord--who was fortunately blessed with a delightfully humorous disposition--prodded the "bar" lodger with a sword-stick. The poor prodded one assisted his captor by yelling for the police himself! Five years. [Illustration: SLIDING LADDER AND ROPE LADDER.] We now come to the most artistic kind of burglar--the portico thief, the man who goes in for great things in the way of jewellery. There are many exhibits at the museum used in this special branch of burglary--rope ladders, treadles, strings, coils of copper wire, gimlets, wedges, woollen stockings to go over boots, etc. The rope ladders, known as "slings," are often 25ft. and 30ft. long, and are made with rope treads just sufficient to put the foot in. A hook is at the end, which is lodged on some convenient support strong enough to hold the weight of the man ascending. They are generally carried by winding them about the body. [Illustration: PEACE'S OUTFIT.] The wire, string, wedges, socks, etc., in the illustration were found at Ealing when the men escaped. They had "wired" the house and grounds all over. This is done in order that, if they are chased, the wires, which are placed at ankle height, trip the pursuer up, the thieves themselves knowing of their whereabouts by putting a piece of white paper in their immediate vicinity. These are the simple appliances of your truly artistic burglar--the man who has been laying his plans for months, the individual who will pay a hundred visits to the house before he brings about his grand _coup_, who will know the value of every piece of jewellery the ladies are wearing at the dinner-table, and be fully aware of the exact place where to lay his wily fingers on them in the dressing-room.