their lanterns.

When finally I finished with the statement that the robber knocked
us both down and had made a successful break for liberty. Uncle
Peter gave expression to a yell of dismay, and once again he and
his bow and arrow held a reunion.

Tacks suggested that we burn the house down so the burglar wouldn't
be able to find it if he came around after dark. I thought
extremely well of the suggestion, but didn't dare say so.

Aunt Martha had just about decided to untie a fit of hysterics,
when Clara J. reached for the kerosene bucket and threw oil on the
troubled waters.

"Let's drop all this nonsense about burglars and ghosts and go to
breakfast," she suggested. "I don't believe there ever was a ghost
within sixty miles of this house, and to save my soul I couldn't be
afraid of a burglar whose specialty consisted of falling in the
cellar and swearing till help came!"

After breakfast I was dragged away to the brook to fish for lamb
chops or whatever kind of an animal it was that Uncle Peter and
Tacks decided would bite. Aunt Martha posted off to the city on
urgent business, the nature of which she carefully concealed from
everybody.

Clara J. said she'd be delighted to have the house all to herself
for an hour or two, there were so many rooms to look through and so
many plans to make.