time my poor old grandmother told me: 'Never be a burglar.' And
the effect of that teaching has not worn off. I still believe that
it's wrong to be a burglar. Besides, they put you in jail for it.
But this,--they can't object to our breaking into my own uncle's.
Even my grandmother would approve, I'm sure. Of course, there
won't be as much plunder as if Aunt Fanny were at home,--she's
probably taken all the pie away with her. But there'll be
something in the pantry, even if it's only pickles. What do you
say,--shall we burglarize the house in style?"

We all agreed in delight. Mr. Daddles's enthusiasm, and his
curious ideas made us quite forget how tired and wet and hungry we
had felt. The fog had settled down thick again, and the air and
earth were damp with it. Great drops of moisture gathered on the
wood-work of the wharf, and on the burdock leaves that grew
between gaps in the planking. High overhead the sky must have been
cloudless, for we could see the moon, now and then, like a dim
dinner-plate, when there was a moment's rift in the fog.

"Just the night for a deed like this," said Mr. Daddles; "come on!
But wait a minute--there's no sense in being burglars way off at
this distance, we'll be,--let's see,--we'll be smugglers, first,
--a gang of smugglers."

He insisted on forming us in single file. He led, followed by
Jimmy, then I came, and Ed Mason brought up the rear.

"Remember!" whispered our leader, "we are smugglers till we get to
the top of the hill. After that,--burglars."