“De dawg,” he persisted uneasily. “Won’t you call on de dawg, boss?”
The big man stooped and grasped the animal’s collar, jerking him away.
“The same treatment,” suggested Jimmy, with approval, “would also do a world of good to this playful and affectionate animal—unless he is a vegetarian, in which case don’t bother.”
The householder glowered at him.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name,” began Jimmy, “is——”
“Say,” said Spike, “he’s a champion burglar, boss——”
“Eh!” he said.
“He’s a champion burglar from de odder side. He sure is. From Lunnon. Gee, he’s de guy! Tell him about the bank you opened, and de jools you swiped from de duchess, and de what-d’ye-call-it blow-pipe.”
It seemed to Jimmy that Spike was showing a certain want of tact. When you are discovered by a house-holder—with revolver—in his parlour at half-past three in the morning, it is surely an injudicious move to lay stress on your proficiency as a burglar. The householder may be supposed to take it for granted. The side of your character which should be advertised in such a crisis is the non-burglarious. Allusion should be made to the fact that as a child you attended Sunday-school regularly, and to what the curate said when you took the Divinity prize. The idea should be conveyed to the householder’s mind that, if let off with a caution, your innate goodness of heart will lead you to reform and avoid such scenes in future.