A MISHAP.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXI, Issue 83, 8 April 1911, Page 10

A MISHAP.

It was rough on him — very; for he was a hard-working burglar. He was not one of the sort that burgle once a week and wallow in idleness and ease the remaining six days. H& was out every night. He had a burglarette and a family of six to support, and he would have deemed it a disgrace were they to go on the rates. He cam© of good stock. There was burglary in his blood. His father had been a distinguished housebreaker before him. Extraordinarily alert was the father. Indeed, he was the hero ot an incident which was much lauded at the time. Reading in. his daily paper one morning an account of a burglary at' Camberwell carried ou& by himself and a friend, he came across the following passage : "Fortunately the miscreants did nofc make their way into the back room of the basement, where there was a safe full of valuable jewellery." In' the evening he went and fetched the valuable jewellery. But, able as was the father, the son was yetmore able. He was one who listened) to the cry of "Wake up, England !" He did not, like so many of his craft, "just muddle through. He did his work scientifically. As a. reward he had never yet been caught. And this was something of a record when one remembers that he had been at work almost without a break for close upon ten years. I say "almost without a break," for once or twice' he had been kept at home by what is to burglars the most, dreaded of ail complaints — a nasty barking cough. The public has no idea what care these night-workers have to take of their throats and chests. That is why they wear mufflers. The burglars' trade journals teem with, advertisements of cough lozenges. But do not think that a cough comes into this tale. Oh, it was rough on him — very Tougd on him. On the night of which, I write he was' out for a stroll, with no particular plan of action. Hitherto he had always mapped out his movements beforehand, after careful reconnaissance in tlie daytime. He was, I suppose, under the influence' of an inevitable reaction, against cobstant caution. It comes on all of us at times. He happened on Stonebroke Court, a recently erected block of flats. The building had attracted him before. He had noticed ftie furniture going intosome of the flats, and he had approved of ifc. It betokened the right class of tenant. Altogether it was a most likely building. What Horace particularly admired about it was the fact that there was no hallporter, and the front door was always open. Yes ; I had forgotten to tell you he was called Horace. His father had given him that name to mislead ihe police. So he slipped in, and secret-ed 1 hknself in the basement. Then, when he had satisfied himself that the tenantry were sleeping, he staxied operations. He chose the first floor. Note here %he working of his scientific mind. The first floor was the most expensive of the flats; the contents would be the most valuable. But it was a difficult lock to pick. It would have been all right if it had been well made ; but ib was a jerry-built affair — foreign ..-tuff — and it broke, and got jammed. It took Horace over an hour to manipulate the thing, and rich and rare were, the oaths he whispered. Some men would have given in, but Horace was not built that way. He was of the bulldog breed — happily not yet extinct — that will not be beaten. Finally his penseverance, his tenacity of purpose, was rewarded. He got inside, and flashed his light. And then he lost his self-control, and this time swore so lustily that he woke* the tenant on the floor above, who in turn woke the police. The flat was the only one in the building which had not been let; it was as bare as the Sahara. Horace went without a struggle. He felt that the police deserved him. — Walter Emanuel, in Westminster Gazette.