"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.
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