'm sorry. I apologize.
In a way I don't deserve this--I really don't."

"Bughouse!" came from the foot of the bed, in a suppressed mutter. "Out
and out bughouse!"

"Quite wrong," I said cheerily. "I never was in better health. You are
surprised, you don't understand. It's not necessary you should. It would
rob the situation of its humor if you should. All I ask of you is to
take everything, don't make a slip, get it all."

"Oh, do, please, please do!" said Clara earnestly.

The silence at the foot of the bed had the force of an exclamation.

"Above all," I continued anxiously, "don't forget the pots. They stand
on either side of the fireplace, filled with ferns. They are not pewter.
They are solid silver champagne coolers. They are worth--they are
worth--"

"Two hundred apiece," said Clara instantly.

"And don't overlook the muffineers, the terrapin dishes and the
candlesticks. We should be very much obliged--very grateful if you
could find room for them."

Often since I have thought of that burglar and what must have been his
sensations. At the time I was too engrossed with my own feelings. Never
have I enjoyed a situation more. It is true I noticed as I proceeded our
burglar began to edge away towards the door, keeping the lantern
steadily on my face.

"And one favor more," I added, "there are several flocks of individual
silver almond dishes roosting downstairs--"

"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