Mr. T. You've rescued the teapot!
Mrs. B. Did you fight with the burglars?
Mrs. T. The poor man has been handled most roughly.
Mr. B. (grasping Mr. T.'s revolver). Which way did the fellows go?
Prof. G. (regaining breath). No burglar—the McLaffety boy—didn't see him—collided most forcibly! He spilled his basket; the teapot rolled out.
Mr. T. Do you mean to tell me that the McLaffety boy was stealing the teapot?
Prof. G. He denied the charge. In fact, he was very saucy, quite rude to say the least; and he ran away before I could restrain him.
Mr. T. Thank heaven you saved the teapot!
Mr. B. We'll have the urchin in the House of Correction.