All sorts of stories flew through the town (we were living in the country then); some said that certain houses were marked with a black cross, and those were always robbed; others, that there was a boy in the gang, for windows, so small that they were considered safe, were entered by some little rogue.

At one place the thieves had a supper, and left ham and cake in the front yard.
Mrs.Jones found Mrs.Smith's shawl in her orchard, with a hammer and an unknown teapot near it.

One man reported that some one tapped at his window, in the night, saying, softly, 'Is anyone here ?' and when he looked out, two men were seen to run down the road.
"We lived just out of town, in a lonely place; the house was old, with convenient little back windows, and five outside doors.

Jack was the only man about the place, and he was barely thirteen.

Mother and aunt were very timid, and the children weren't old enough to be of any use, so Jack and I were the home-guard, and vowed to defend the family manfully." "Good for you! Hope the fellows came!" cried Tom, charmed with this opening.
"One day, an ill-looking man came in and asked for food," continued grandma, with a mysterious nod; "and while he ate, I saw him glance sharply about from the wooden buttons on the back-doors, to the silver urn and tankards on the dining-room sideboard.