"Fact is," said I ruefully, "I've been entertaining angels--of the
black kind--unawares. I was from home last night, and I find that
somebody has made himself free with my property while I was away."
"Whew!" whistled Dicky. "Guess they were after you."
I gave Dicky a sidelong glance in a vain effort to catch more of his
meaning than was conveyed by his words.
"Shouldn't be surprised," I replied dryly, picking up an armful of
books. "I'd expect them to be looking for me in the book-shelf, or
inside the mattress-cover, or under the carpet."
Dicky laughed joyously.
"Well, they did rather turn things upside down," he chuckled. "Did they
get anything?" And he fell to helping me zealously.
"Not that I can find out," I replied. "Nothing of value, anyhow."
"Not any papers, or anything of that sort?" asked Dicky anxiously.
"Dicky, my boy," said I; "there are two kinds of fools. The other is
the man who writes his business on a sheet of paper and forgets to burn
it."
Dicky grinned merrily.
"Gad, you're getting a turn for epigram! You'll be writing for the
_Argonaut_, first we know."
"Well, you'll allow me a shade of common sense, won't you?"
"I don't know," said Dicky, considering the proposition doubtfully. "It
might have been awkward if you had left anything lying about. But if
you had real good sense you'd have had the guards here. What are you
paying them for, anyhow?"
I saw difficulties in the way of explaining to Dicky why I had not
ordered the guards on duty.
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