R. WILLIAM TOMPKYNS, Editor of the Daily Press, was holding forth at the breakfast table on the dangers of neglected fastenings.
"Three times this year," he complained bitterly, "on my return from the office I have found a window left open."
"I will speak to the servants about it again, dear," said his wife, meekly.
"But nothing has happened, papa," urged Mollie, a vigorous young woman of an independent turn of mind.
"That simply shows your good fortune," said the editor, crushingly. "You must remember, Mollie, and you, too, my dear, that this house is particularly open to attack. Not only are you two women left alone in the house until my late return, but there is my collection of coins."
"Um-m," said MoHie, doubtfully. "I do not think myself that the coin collection would attract the average burglar. He is not, as a rule, possessed of numismatic tastes."
"If it occurs again," continued Mr. Tompkyns, severely, "I shall speak to the servants myself."
"Um-m," said his wife, doubtfully, for she had heard that warning before, but had never seen the threat carried into execution.
"I should like to know how you would both feel if burglars did break in while I was away at the office," proceeded Mr. Tompkyns. "I'll guarantee that if it did happen you would be very careful indeed to see all the windows fastened for the future. It's the nature of women to lock the stable-door after the horse is stolen."
"If anyone did break in," said Mollie, promptly, "we should sound that electric alarm to the police station, you had installed the other day."
"More likely you would hide your heads under the bed clothes," he retorted. "If I were in the house to protect you, this carelessness would not be so annoying. If I return some night to find the house ransacked, my coins gone, and you with your throats cut, don't blame me, that's all."
"Really, William," said Mrs. Tompkyns, with mild shudders, "I do wish you would not have such horrible ideas."
"If that happened," said Mollie, demurely, "I'm sure it would be very wonderful indeed if we blamed papa."
"You know quite well what I mean," observed Mr. Tompkyns with dignity. "I am really tempted to wish that some burglar should break in some night and teach you a lesson that would not be forgotten in a hurry. May I trouble you to pass the salt?"
When Mr. Tompkyns returned late that night from his editorial sanctum, his paper safely despatched to press, he had not forgotten the conversation at the breakfast table. Determined to ascertain the real effect of his warning, he went carefully round the house and was supremely disgusted to find the scullery window at least an inch open, offering easy entrance to the house.
"Upon my word, it's really too bad, and after all that I said, too," exclaimed Mr. Tompkyns angrily. "Really, I have a good mind—I have a very good mind indeed—to teach them a lesson they will not forget in a hurry. Yes. They shall be taught the necessity of listening to what I say," he concluded, vehemently.
Without more ado Mr. Tompkyns retired to the shelter of some trees near by, took off his coat and, chuckling softly to himself, turned it inside out and then put it on again. He withdrew a large silk muffler from his pocket, and removing his collar and tie, he twisted it round his neck—a proceeding that always makes a startling change in one's appearance. Then it struck him that he must have a mask or he would be recognised at once. This was rather a difficulty, but he was now in no mood to stick at trifles. There had been heavy rain earlier in the night, and remembering an expedient he had heard of somewhere, he gathered up some mud and smeared it over his cheeks. By now he had entered thoroughly into the spirit of the thing and he assured himself, with amusement and with truth, that he could not possibly be recognised.
"This will be a good joke to tell afterwards," he muttered as he finished his preparations. "I must be careful not to frighten them too much," he added with a momentary touch of compunction, but the thought of his coins, exposed so carelessly, hardened his heart again.
Bubbling over with glee and satisfaction, and hardly able to contain his merriment as he thought of the lesson he was about to give his careless wife and daughter, he made his way to the scullery window. Anxious not to give a premature alarm, Mr. Tompkyns opened the window noiselessly to its full extent. He had already thrown one leg over the sill when he felt a heavy touch upon his arm.
"Steady, matey," said a hoarse voice.