"I believe that," she said. "I've always heard there's honor among
thieves, and"--she lowered her voice to a whisper--"it's possible I might
become one myself!"

The Hopper's eyes opened wide and he crossed and uncrossed his legs
nervously in his agitation.

"If--if"--she began slowly, bending forward with a grave, earnest look in
her eyes and clasping her fingers tightly--"if we could only get hold of
father's Lang-Yao jar and that plum-blossom vase Mr. Talbot has--if we
could only do that!"

The Hopper swallowed hard. This fearless, pretty young woman was calmly
suggesting that he commit two felonies, little knowing that his score for
the day already aggregated three--purse-snatching, the theft of an
automobile from her own door, and what might very readily be construed as
the kidnaping of her own child!

"I don't know, miss," he said feebly, calculating that the sum total of
even minimum penalties for the five crimes would outrun his natural life
and consume an eternity of reincarnations.

"Of course it wouldn't be stealing in the ordinary sense," she explained.
"What I want you to do is to play the part of what we will call a
reversible Santa Claus, who takes things away from stupid people who don't
enjoy them anyhow. And maybe if they lost these things they'd behave
themselves. I could explain afterward that it was all my fault, and of
course I wouldn't let any harm come to _you_. I'd be responsible, and of
course I'd see you safely out of it; you would have to rely on me for
that. I'm trusting _you_ and you'd have to trust _me!_"