I ran into the kitchen and huddled our four silver spoons into my
pocket; then took the unlucky book with the bank-notes and put it
in the bosom of my dress. I was determined to defend the property
confided to my care with my life. Just as I had secured the
pocketbook I heard the door splintering, and rushed into the
passage again with my heavy kitchen poker lifted in both hands.

I was in time to see the bald head of Jerry, with the
ugly-looking knobs on it, pushed into the passage through a great
rent in one of the lower panels of the door.

"Get out, you villain, or I'll brain you on the spot!" I
screeched, threatening him with the poker.

Mr. Jerry took his head out again much faster than he put it in.

The next thing that came through the rent was a long pitchfork,
which they darted at me from the outside, to move me from the
door. I struck at it with all my might, and the blow must have
jarred the hand of Shifty Dick up to his very shoulder, for I
heard him give a roar of rage and pain. Before he could catch at
the fork with his other hand I had drawn it inside. By this time
even Jerry lost his temper and swore more awfully than Dick
himself.

Then there came another minute of respite. I suspected they had
gone to get bigger stones, and I dreaded the giving way of the
whole door.

Running into the bedroom as this fear beset me, I laid hold of my