"Whoever it is," Mabel moaned.
"Send for the police at once," said Gerald, outside, in the manliest
voice he could find. "You'll only blame yourself if you don t. I
can't do any more for you."
"I I'll set the dogs on you!" cried the aunt.
"Oh, auntie, don't!" Mabel was dancing with agitation. "It's true I
know it's true. Do do wake Bates!"
"I don't believe a word of it," said the aunt. No more did Bates
when, owing to Mabel's persistent worryings, he was awakened.
But when he had seen the paper, and had to choose whether he'd
go to the strong-room and see that there really wasn't anything to
believe or go for the police on his bicycle, he chose the latter
course.
When the police arrived the strong-room door stood ajar, and the
silver, or as much of it as the three men could carry, was gone.
Gerald's note-book and pencil came into play again later on that
night. It was five in the morning before he crept into bed, tired out
and cold as a stone.
"Master Gerald!" it was Eliza's voice in his ears "it's seven o clock
and another fine day, and there's been another burglary My cats
alive!" she screamed, as she drew up the blind and turned towards
the bed; "look at his bed, all crocked with black, and him not
there!" "Oh, Jiminy!" It was a scream this time. Kathleen came
running from her room; Jimmy sat up in his bed and rubbed his
eyes.
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