talked at once. It was the most wonderful adventure we ever had, though it wasn't treasure-seeking—at least not ours. I suppose it was the burglar's treasure-seeking, but he didn't get much—and our robber said he didn't believe a word about those kids that were so like Alice and me.
And then there was the click of the gate, and we said, "Here's Father," and the robber said, "And now for the police."
Then we all jumped up. We did like him so much, and it seemed so unfair that he should be sent to prison, and the horrid, lumping big burglar not.
And Alice said, "Oh, no—run! Dicky will let you out at the back door. Oh, do go, go now."
And we all said, "Yes, go," and pulled him towards the door, and gave him his hat and stick and the things out of his pockets.
But Father's latchkey was in the door, and it was too late.
Father came in quickly, purring with the cold, and began to say, "It's all right, Foulkes, I've got——" And then he stopped short and stared at us. Then he said, in the voice we all hate, "Children, what is the meaning of all this?"
