"'What would mother say? Well, you see, I meant to keep awake till she
came upstairs and tell her all about it; but I was so tired I dropped
asleep in a minute, and the first thing I knew I was dreaming that I was
running up Brooks Street with Grip in my arms, and the bull-dog close
after us, and just as he was going to spring mother screamed, and
somebody kept saying, "'St, boy! 'st, boy! stick to him, good dog!
stick to him!" And then I woke up, and mother really was screaming, and
'twas Fred who was saying, "Stick to him! stick to him!" And the gas was
lit in the hall, and there was a great noise and hubbub out there, and I
rushed out, and there was a man on the floor and the yellow dog had him
by the throat. Father stood in the door-way with his pistol cocked, and
he said in a quiet kind of way (just as father always speaks when he
means business): "If you stir you are a dead man!" But I should like to
know how he could stir with that grip on his throat!

"'Then there came a banging and ringing at our front door, and Fred ran
to open it, and in rushed our policeman--I mean the one that takes our
street on his beat. He had heard the noise outside, you see, and, for a
wonder, was on hand when he was wanted; and he just went for that fellow
on the floor and clapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists as quick as
you could turn your hand over; and when he got a look at him he says:
"Oh, it's you, Bill Long, is it? We've been wanting you for some time at
the lodge (that was his name for the police-station). Well, get up and
come along!"

"'But I called the dog off.

"'We didn't one of us go to bed again that night. Father and Fred looked
through the house, and father said it was the neatest piece of work in
the burglary line he ever saw done--real professionals, they were. There