Murder in Any Degree - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Oh, George, isn't it too wonderful--wonderful for words!" said Clara, hysterical with joy.
"I can't believe it," I cried.
"Shut up!" said the voice behind the lantern.
"My dear friend," I said conciliatingly, "there's not the slightest need of your keeping your finger on that wabbling, cold thing. My feelings towards you are only the tenderest and the most grateful."
"Huh!"
"The feelings of a brother! My only fear is that you may overlook one or two articles that I admit are not conveniently exposed."
The bull's-eye turned upon me with a sudden jerk.
"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned!"
"We have waited for you long and patiently. We thought you would never come. In fact, we had sort of lost faith in you. I'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 m.u.f.fineers, 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 a.s.sistance 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 hoa.r.s.ely, "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 a.s.sure 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."