How different from our own robber! The burglar had a dark lantern, and he was standing by the plate-basket.
When we had lit the gas we all thought he was very like what a burglar ought to be.
He did not look as if he could ever have been a pirate or a highwayman, or anything really dashing or noble, and he scowled and shuffled his feet and said: 'Well, go on: why don't yer fetch the pleece ?' 'Upon my word, I don't know,' said our robber, rubbing his chin.
'Oswald, why don't we fetch the police ?' It is not every robber that I would stand Christian names from, I can tell you but just then I didn't think of that.

I just said--'Do you mean I'm to fetch one ?' Our robber looked at the burglar and said nothing.
Then the burglar began to speak very fast, and to look different ways with his hard, shiny little eyes.
'Lookee 'ere, governor,' he said, 'I was stony broke, so help me, I was.

And blessed if I've nicked a haporth of your little lot.

You know yourself there ain't much to tempt a bloke,' he shook the plate-basket as if he was angry with it, and the yellowy spoons and forks rattled.

'I was just a-looking through this 'ere Bank-ollerday show, when you come.
Let me off, sir.