In the city the burglar finds most people asleep at dawn; in the country most people wake with the dawn. I knew I must start early and set one o’clock as the hour to begin. Allowing myself two hours to get in, get action, and get out, I could have it over by three o’clock, which would give me time to plant the money and be in my room before daylight. My parcel of instruments and a gun were planted a few blocks away. I went after them, returned to the house, and found a place in the yard where I could watch and wait without being seen by any chance passer-by. With two hours to kill, I went over the thing again and could think of nothing more in the way of precaution. I had even picked a place in a lot near by to plant the money.
At one o’clock I took off my shoes and put them in my back pockets. There in that house was a big piece of money. I had put in almost two months planning to get it, and now that I was ready to “step” I summoned everything in the way of professional skill that I had acquired in the years since the Smiler gave me my first lesson. I found the kitchen door locked. The key inside was soon displaced and the door unlocked with one of my own. Once inside I shut the door; this was in the country and I could not chance stray, hungry dogs or cats coming in for food and knocking pans around while I was upstairs. The door to the dining room was shut, but not locked. There was a rocking-chair in line between the front and back dining-room doors. I carefully pushed it to one side, making the way clear in case of a hasty leaving.
At the foot of the stairs in the hall I could hear the man breathing. The bedroom door upstairs was open. The stairs were solid, well put together, and did not creak, but I took a long time in doing them, wondering all the while where I would find the leather bag. No such luck as getting it off the dresser. No, he would surely have it under his pillow. After a long wait at the door of their room my ears picked up the woman’s gentler breathing. They both slept the sleep of young, healthy, tired workers, and I could wish for nothing more. There was light enough from the window to enable me to look over the dresser. The pouch was not there and I prayed it wouldn’t be in one of the drawers, for of all the abominable obstacles that balk the burglar of a sleeping room the bureau drawer is the first and worst.
After wasting the better part of an hour going through the room, I concluded the thing was under his head. Kneeling beside his pillow, I put the gun beside me on the floor, ready to my hand, where I could get it and stick him up if he woke up on me. The sleeper was lying on his back. His head was on the middle of his pillow, and directly beneath it was the leather bag.
A watch or purse may be taken from under a pillow with ease, but an object the size of this bag I wanted will shift the pillow when it is withdrawn. It pulls the pillow with it, the pillow pulls the sleeper’s head with it, and he wakes up. When the burglar gets up against this, he has to put one hand against the end of the pillow, holding it in place, while he tugs gently at the spoils below.
Whether it was my pulling on the pouch I don’t know, but the sleeping man stirred uneasily and his regular breathing stopped. I shrank down lower beside the bed, one hand under his head and the other at the pillow, breathless from the intense concentration and suspense. He stirred again and then floundered heavily over on his side, his back to me and his head off the leather. I could not hear him breathe. I was sure he was awake, but not alarmed. After a heart-breaking fifteen minutes his sleep became natural again, and I slowly, softly pulled the pouch free from under his pillow. It was mine now, and it was my business to hold on to it.
I took as long going downstairs as I did going up, and at last made my way out of the house, closing the kitchen door softly behind me. Putting my shoes on, I hastened away to plant the money. In the neighborhood was a big vacant lot, its boundaries marked by a row of broken and leaning fence posts from which the boards had been taken for firewood or other uses. Pulling one of the loose posts from its place, I threw the pouch in the hole and jammed the post down on top of it. The gun and instruments I threw into a small stream near by. I wanted to be entirely clean of anything incriminating in case I was suspected, arrested, and searched.
In the security of my room I went over the night’s work. After an hour’s thought I could think of but one more thing I ought to do. My socks might have picked up dirt or dust around the house. A particle of dust, a piece of thread or lint or raveling of cloth might convict me if suspicion fell on me. Taking the socks off my feet, I went out and threw them in a lot.
Fully satisfied that I had done everything possible to insure safety, I returned to the hotel. Daylight was coming on. Going upstairs I met the porter coming down to open up. He gave me a sleepy “good-morning,” and I went on to my room and to bed, but not to sleep. I was in the dining room as usual about seven o’clock. The room was noisy, every one was talking at once. A tall man got up from the table, saying in a loud Western drawl: “Waal, I’m fer lynchin’ ’em if we git ’em.” A quiet-spoken Englishman next me at the long table told me all about the burglary. Out in the street I saw with some concern that the town was on fire with excitement.
I got through the forenoon all right, standing around the street discussing the burglary with acquaintances I had made in the town, doing more listening than talking. At noon, when I went into the hotel for dinner, the constable, the hotel men, and the porter I met on the stairs in the early morning were standing at the bar with their heads together talking earnestly. When they saw me they quit talking and went out on the sidewalk. One glance from the constable told me I was suspected. I saw that the porter had done his deadly work; I was due for a lot of questioning. Along in the afternoon the superintendent of the mine where the payroll belonged got into town and took charge of things. There was a powwow in the magistrate’s office. I saw the hotel porter go in, and braced myself to take the blow.