"Cap, I have got some curiosities to show you!"
"What are they?" said Cap, languidly.
"A set of burglar's tools, supposed to belong to some member of Black Donald's band! One of my negroes found them in the woods in the neighborhood of the Devil's Punch Bowl! I wrote to the sheriff concerning them, and he requested me to take care of them until he should have occasion to call for them. Look! Did you ever see such things?" said Old Hurricane, setting down a canvas bag upon the table and turning out from it all sorts of strange looking instruments—tiny saws, files, punches, screws, picks, etc., etc., etc.
Cap looked at them with the most curious interest, while Old Hurricane explained their supposed uses.
"It must have been an instrument of this sort, Cap, that that blamed demon, Donald, gave to the imprisoned men to file their fetters off with!" he said, showing a thin file of tempered steel.
"That!" said Cap. "Hand it here! Let me see it!" And she examined it with the deepest interest.
"I wonder what they force locks with?" she inquired.
"Why, this, and this, and this!" said Old Hurricane, producing a burglar's pick, saw and chisel.
Cap took them and scrutinized them so attentively that Old Hurricane burst out into a loud laugh, exclaiming:
"You'll dream of house-breakers to-night, Cap!" and taking the tools, he put them all back in the little canvas bag, and put the bag up on a high shelf of the parlor closet.