“‘I have.’
“‘Sit down.’
“The burglar resumed his place on the edge of the bed.
“‘You saved my life at the possible risk of discovery as a burglar. I am not ungrateful. Here.’
“As he spoke, Mr. Peters put his hand under his pillow and drew out the little key to the safe, which he held out to the man.
“‘There’s the safe—here’s the key. There is one thousand and two dollars and thirty cents there. Take the bills and leave me the change. I shall probably feel like it in the morning,’ and the old man chuckled at his joke.
“That the burglar was astounded is drawing it lightly. He took the key, however, with alacrity, and, unlocking the safe, quickly transferred the money to his pocket.
“‘Now, sit down again,’ said Mr. Peters. ‘I think I have earned a few minutes of your valuable time.’ The man again resumed his seat without protest, although Peters had now tucked the pistol back under his pillow.
“‘Your profession is a precarious one. Why did you take it up? You were not born to be a burglar, even of the considerate class. Come, tell me all about yourself, and who you are. I have paid well for a little entertainment.’
“Then the man told him the usual story of the gentleman burglar, and with dramatic force whispered his alleged real name in the ear of old man Peters.”