"We have been robbed!"
"What of?" he asked, turning pale. "Do you miss any of the spoons?"
"No."
"Or—or money?" and he pulled out his wallet hurriedly.
"No, no, it isn't that."
"What is it, then?"
"I left that pitcher half full of milk when I went to bed last night. This morning there wasn't a drop in it, and the pantry door was open."
"Cats are fond of milk," suggested Silas, with a glance at Tabby, who was lying near the fire-place.
"It wasn't the cat. She couldn't get her head inside the pitcher. Besides, there are three slices of bread missing."
"Won't cats eat bread?"