The master of the house stared open-mouthed at this amazing feast.
Where had it all come from? How had it been transported?
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he gasped.
Dick shuddered. "Don't say that! It gives me the Willies. Sit down,
friend, and make yourself at home. Ah! This is real comfort! Don't you
think I'd make some woman a fine husband? I'm no slouch as a provider,
am I?"
It was after two o'clock when Artful Dick Cronk whispered good night
and slipped out into the hall. He carried with him all the plates,
cutlery and remnants of the midnight feast, having remarked in advance
that a careful operator never left anything "half finished." It was
his purpose to restore every article except the food, to the place
from which he had taken it. He and David chuckled joyously over the
fresh amazement of Aunt Fanny in the morning; she had been living in a
state of dread for three appalling days, as it was.
The next morning Dick appeared at breakfast with his host. He rescued
Zuley Ann's greatly prized silver watch from the steaming coffee urn,
and picked Jeff's pocket-book from the mouth of a lamp chimney,
afterwards restoring the thirty-eight cents it contained.
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