"Two," replied Cassius.
"Count slowly," implored Mr. Yollop.
"You—you may tie my hands, Critt—Crittenden,—" chattered the lady.
"You mustn't bite or scratch him," warned Cassius.
Sixty seconds later, Mrs. Champney stood before the burglar, her wrists securely bound behind her back.
"Will you gag her, or must I?" demanded Cassius.
"I will give you my word of honor not to scream," faltered the crumpling lady.
"It ain't the screamin' I object to," said Smilk. "It's the talkin'. You've done too much talkin' already, ma'am. If you hadn't talked so much I wouldn't be here tonight."
"Have you a hanky, Cassius?" inquired Mr. Yollop.
"I refuse to have that disgusting wretch's filthy handkerchief stuffed into my mouth," cried Mrs. Champney, with spirit. Mr. Yollop chuckled. "Good gracious, Crittenden, what is there to laugh at?"