downstairs, I'm positive. I distinctly heard the kitchen door open.'

"'Oh, well, the dog's got him by now, then,' murmured my father, who had
heard nothing, and was sleepy.

"'Thomas,' replied my mother severely, 'I'm not going to lie here while a
fellow-creature is being murdered by a savage beast. If you won't go
down and save that man's life, I will.'

"'Oh, bother,' said my father, preparing to get up. 'You're always
fancying you hear noises. I believe that's all you women come to bed
for--to sit up and listen for burglars.' Just to satisfy her, however,
he pulled on his trousers and socks, and went down.

"Well, sure enough, my mother was right, this time. There _was_ a
burglar in the house. The pantry window stood open, and a light was
shining in the kitchen. My father crept softly forward, and peeped
through the partly open door. There sat the burglar, eating cold beef
and pickles, and there, beside him, on the floor, gazing up into his face
with a blood-curdling smile of affection, sat that idiot of a dog,
wagging his tail.

"My father was so taken aback that he forgot to keep silent.

"'Well, I'm--,' and he used a word that I should not care to repeat to
you fellows.

"The burglar, hearing him, made a dash, and got clear off by the window;
and the dog seemed vexed with my father for having driven him away.