"How is this?" cried Mr. Morton, "I'm to be robbed and drugged, am I?" and the great lawyer looked as if he thought the man was losing his wits.
But Jerry began and told a straight tale; told it so circumstantially and truthfully that Mr. Morton, forced to believe it, was genuinely alarmed.
He immediately summoned the police, and, after a rapid consultation, a plan was formed to capture the thieves.
Jerry was to unlock the big iron gates in the convent wall, where the coal-carts were in the habit of driving in. Two of the police were to hide there, and keep an eye on the house opposite until they saw a burglar number one admitted by the traitorous nurse-girl. Then they were to return at dark and guard the front of the house, so as to cut off all retreat from that direction. Two more of the force were to hide in the Mortons' stable, and prevent escape from the rear. Mr. Morton was to remain inside to avert suspicion and to give the alarm in case any violence was attempted. He was also to practise a little stratagem to prevent any of the family from drinking the drugged coffee.
"Don't seem to do anything unusual," counselled the chief. "Go to bed, and pretend to sleep. Let them rob you, and when they come out we will take care of them and their booty."
"And what am I to do, sir?" asked Jerry.
"You have done enough, man; you go home and stay with your sick wife. She will be anxious if we expose you to danger."
You see, the officers wished to put both Mr. Morton and Jerry out of the affair, so that they could have all the glory of the capture.