to see me, he would not shoot at all. In this way I should save
Sarah the nerve shock that would follow the explosion of a pistol
in the house. For Sarah was very much more afraid of pistols than
of burglars. I am sure there were only two reasons why I had
never killed a burglar with a pistol: one was that no burglar had
ever entered our flat, and the other was that I never had a
pistol.

But I knew that one is much less protected in a suburb than in
town, and when I decided to build I studied the burglar
protection matter most carefully. I said nothing to Sarah about
it, for fear it would upset her nerves, but for months I
considered every method that seemed to have any merit, and that
would avoid getting a burglar's blood--or mine--spattered around
on our new furnishings. I desired some method by which I could
finish up a burglar properly without having to leave my bed, for
although Sarah is brave enough in sending me out of bed to catch
a burglar, I knew she must suffer severe nerve strain during the
time I was wandering about in the dark. Her objection to
explosives had also to be considered, and I really had to
exercise my brain more than common before I hit upon what I may
now consider the only perfect method of handling burglars.

Several things coincided to suggest my method. One of these was
Sarah's foolish notion that our silver must, every night, be
brought from the dining-room and deposited under our bed. This I
considered a most foolhardy tempting of fate. It coaxed any
burglar who ordinarily would have quietly taken the silver from
the dining-room and have then gone away peacefully, to enter our
room. The knowledge that I lay in bed ready at any time to spring