“Yes’m,” he muttered, with a view to ending a silence that had become intolerable.

Her eyes danced to the accompaniment of her thoughts, but in no way did she betray the slightest perturbation.

“I ain’t done nothin’; hones’ to God, I ain’t!” he protested brokenly.

“I saw you through the window when you entered this room and I was watching while you read that note,” said his captor.  “I thought it funny that you should do that instead of packing up the silver.  Do you mind telling me just why you read that note?”

“Well, miss, I jes’ thought it kind o’ funny there wuzn’t nobody round an’ the letter was layin’ there all open, an’ I didn’t see no harm in lookin’.”

“It was awfully clever of you to crawl into the corner so nobody could see your light from the windows,” she said with a tinge of admiration.  “I suppose you thought you might find out how long the people of the house were likely to be gone and how much time you could spend here.  Was that it?”

“I reckon ut wuz some thin’ like that,” he agreed.

This was received with the noncommittal “Um” of a person whose thoughts are elsewhere.  Then, as though she were eliciting from an artist or man of letters a frank opinion as to his own ideas of his attainments and professional standing, she asked, with a meditative air that puzzled him as much as her question:—­

“Just how good a burglar are you?  Can you do a job neatly and safely?”

The Hopper, staggered by her inquiry and overcome by modesty, shrugged his shoulders and twisted about uncomfortably.

“I reckon as how you’ve pinched me I ain’t much good,” he replied, and was rewarded with a smile followed by a light little laugh.  He was beginning to feel pleased that she manifested no fear of him.  In fact, he had decided that Shaver’s mother was the most remarkable woman he had ever encountered, and by all odds the handsomest.  He began to take heart.  Perhaps after all he might hit upon some way of restoring Shaver to his proper place in the house of Talbot without making himself liable to a long term for kidnaping.

“If you’re really a successful burglar—­one who doesn’t just poke abound in empty houses as you were doing here, but clever and brave enough to break into houses where people are living and steal things without making a mess of it; and if you can play fair about it—­then I think—­I think—­maybe—­we can come to terms!”

“Yes’m!” faltered The Hopper, beginning to wonder if Mary and Humpy had been right in saying that he had lost his mind.  He was so astonished that his arms wavered, but she was instantly on her feet and the little automatic was again on a level with his eyes.

“Excuse me, miss, I didn’t mean to drop ’em.  I weren’t goin’ to do nothin’.  Hones’ I wuzn’t!” he pleaded with real contrition.  “It jes’ seemed kind o’ funny what ye said.”