Jimmy above stairs and Spike Mullins below, that sleuthhound would
have his hands full.

"Burglary," said Wesson, leaning back and taking advantage of a pause,
"is the hobby of the sportsman and the life work of the avaricious."

Everybody seemed to have something to say on the subject. One young
lady gave it as her opinion that she would not like to find a burglar
under her bed. Somebody else had known a man whose father had fired at
the butler, under the impression that he was a housebreaker, and had
broken a valuable bust of Socrates. Spennie knew a man at Oxford whose
brother wrote lyrics for musical comedy, and had done one about a
burglar's best friend being his mother.

"Life," said Wesson, who had had time for reflection, "is a house
which we all burgle. We enter it uninvited, take all that we can lay
hands on, and go out again."

"This man's brother I was telling you about," said Spennie, "says
there's only one rhyme in the English language to 'burglar', and
that's 'gurgler'. Unless you count 'pergola', he says----"

"Personally," said Jimmy, with a glance at McEachern, "I have rather a
sympathy for burglars. After all, they are one of the hardest-working
classes in existence. They toil while everybody else is asleep. They
are generally thorough sportsmen. Besides, a burglar is only a
practical socialist. Philosophers talk a lot about the redistribution
of wealth. The burglar goes out and does it. I have found burglars
some of the decentest criminals I have ever met. Out of business hours
they are charming."