Mrs. Chatterton, standing by her toilet table, carefully examining her
wealth of gray hair to note the changes in its tint, was suddenly
surprised in the very act of picking out an obnoxious white hair, by a
slight noise in the further corner of the apartment. And dropping her
fingers quickly and turning away from the glass, she exclaimed, "How
dare you, Hortense, come in without knocking?"
"If you make a noise I'll kill you," declared a man, standing in the
shadow of a portiere and watching her underneath a slouched black hat.
There was a slight click that caused the listener's nerves to thrill.
But her varied life had brought her nothing if not self-control, and
she coolly answered, "If you want my money, say so."
"Not exactly money, ma'am," said the man, "for I don't suppose you have
much here. But I'll thank you to hand over that there box of diamonds."
He extended the other hand with its dingy fingers toward a large ebony
jewel-case elaborate with its brass hinges, and suggestive of double
locks, on a corner of the table.
"If you are determined to take it, I suppose I must give it to you,"
said Mrs. Chatterton, with evident reluctance handing the box
designated, very glad to think she had but a few days before changed
the jewels to another repository to escape Hortense's prying eyes. In
making the movement she gave a sweeping glance out the window. Should
she dare to scream? Michael was busy on the lawn, she knew; she could
hear his voice talking to one of the under gardeners.
"See here, old lady," warned the man, "you keep your eyes in the room.
Now then," his greedy glance fastened on the glittering gems on her
fingers, "I'll thank you to rip them things off." Dick, racing along
the further end of the hall after his bird with a "Whoop, la--I've
almost caught you," startling him, he proceeded to perform the service
for himself.
"There he goes!" cried Dick, "in her room. Bother! Well, I must catch
him." So without the preamble of knocking, the boy dashed into the
dressing-room. The bird whizzing ahead of him, flashed between the
drawn folds of the portiere.
"Excuse me," cried Dick, rushing in, "but my swallow--oh!"
"Go back!" cried Mrs. Chatterton hoarsely, "you'll be killed."
The bird flying over his head, and the appearance of the boy,
disconcerted the robber for one instant. He held the long white hand in
his, tearing off the rings. There was no chance for her to escape, she
knew, but she could save Dick.
"Go back!" she screamed again. There was only a moment to think, but
Dick dashed in, and with a mighty spirit, but small fists, he flung
himself against the stalwart arms and shoulders.
"O heavens!" screamed Mrs. Chatterton. "He's but a boy, let him go. You
shall have the rings. Help--help!"
Dick, clutching and tearing blindly at whatever in the line of hair or
ragged garment he could lay hold of, was waging an unequal warfare. But
what he did was accomplished finely. And the bird, rushing blindly into
the midst of the contention, with whirrings and flappings
indescribable, helped more than an army of servants, to confuse the
man. Notwithstanding, it was soon over, but not before Mrs. Chatterton
had wrenched her fingers free, and grasped the pistol from its loose
hold in his other hand. The box under his arm fell to the floor, and
Dick was just being tossed to the other side of the room; she could
hear him strike the cheval-glass with a dull thud.
"I can shoot as well as you," said Mrs. Chatterton, handling the pistol
deftly. "Make a noise, and I will."
He knew it, by her eyes, and that she had taken good aim.
"Where are you, Dick?" cried Polly's voice outside, and rapping at the
door. "Mrs. Chatterton, have you seen him?"
"Come in," called Mrs. Chatterton, with firmest of fingers on the
trigger and her flashing eyes fastened upon the seamed, dirty face
before her.
Polly threw wide the door.
"We have a man here that we don't want," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'll
take care of him till you get help. Hurry!"
"Oh, Dick!" cried Polly in a breath, with a fearful glance at the boy
lying there.
"I think he's all right, Polly." She dared say no more, for Dick had
not stirred.
Polly clasped her hands, and rushed out almost into Jasper's face. "A
burglar--a burglar!" and he dashed into Mrs. Chatterton's room.
"Don't interfere," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'm a splendid markswoman."
"You needn't shoot," said the man sullenly. "I won't stir."
"No, I don't think you will," said the gray-haired woman, her eyes
alight, and hand firm as a rock. "Well, here are the men."
Jasper had seized a table-spread, and as Michael and the undergardeners
advanced, he went back of the robber, and cleverly threw it over his
head. It was easy to secure and bind him then. Polly rushed over to
Dick.
"Turn the creature over and let us see how he looks," said Mr. King,
hurrying in as the last knot of the rope was made fast. The old
slouched hat had fallen off in the struggle, and the man's features
came plainly to view. "He's no beauty, and that's a fact."
"I've seen that fellow round here for many a day," said Michael, giving
the recumbent legs a small kick. "Oncet he axed me ef we wanted ony
wourk done. I mind yees, yer see," with another attention from his
gardening boot.
"I want to tie one rope," cried a voice. Dick opened his eyes, rubbed
them, and felt of his head. "I'm all right, Polly. I saw stars, but
I've got over it, I guess. Let me give him the last knot." He staggered
blindly to his feet.
"I'll tie for you," said Jasper, "trust me, Dick's all right, only
stunned," he telegraphed to the rapidly increasing group.
"Tell his mother so, do, somebody," said old Mr. King.
"Well, Cousin Eunice, you've covered yourself with glory," he turned on
her warmly. She had thrown aside the pistol, and now sank into a chair.
"Never mind," she waved it off carelessly, "I'll imagine the
compliments. Just now I want a glass of wine. Call Hortense, will you?"
The man on the floor tried to raise his head. But he couldn't, so was
obliged to content himself with an ugly grin.
"That bird has flown," he said. "I'll peep. She put me up to it; we was
goin' shares on the old lady's stuff."
With that Mrs. Chatterton's spirit returned. She sprang from her chair,
and rushed around from bureau to closet to see the extent of her maid's
dishonesty. But beyond a few minor deficiencies of her wardrobe, there
was no robbery to speak of. Evidently Hortense had considered it unwise
to be burdened with much impedimenta. So the robber was hauled off to
justice, and Phronsie, coming wonderingly up the stairs, came softly in
upon them, in time to see Dick rush up to Mrs. Chatterton with a
"You're a brick!" before them all.
After that, there was no more hope of keeping things quiet in the house
for Phronsie's sake. Meanwhile the bird, who had played no mean part in
the engagement, now asserted himself, and blindly rushed into capture.
"Isn't he lovely!" cried Phronsie, tearing her gaze off from the
wonderful wings, as the swallow fluttered under the mosquito netting
speedily brought in.
"Yes, his wings are," said Polly. "Oh, Dick! do tell over again how it
all happened."
So Dick rehearsed once more as far as he knew the story, tossing off
lightly his part of it.
"Your poor head, does it ache?" cried Polly, feeling of the big bump on
the crown.
"No, not a bit," declared Dick, shaking his brown poll. "I'm glad I
didn't crack the glass."
"That heavy plate?" cried Polly, looking over at the cheval-glass with
a shiver.
Phronsie deserted the fascinating bird, and began to smooth Dick's head
with both hands.
"Do let me bathe it," she begged. "I'll get the Pond's Extract."
"No, I won't," said Dick. "It smells awfully, and I've had so much of
it for my leg. I'm all right, Phronsie. See his wings now--he's
stretching."
But Phronsie was not to be diverted from her purpose.
"I'll get bay rum," she said. "May I?"