Jasper County Democrat, Volume 22, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 December 1919 — A Christmas “Burglary” [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Christmas “Burglary”

By SAIDEE ESTELLE BALCOM

(Copyright.)

HE night-watchman'at Plympton. possessed of a due sense of bis Im* portance, was called “Sergeant” Moore. He had become aware that the distinctive title was one in general vogue with metro*’ politan police systems and he was proud of the designation. The day preceding Christmas was always

one looked forward to by the doughty sergeant, for It was upon that occasion that his conscience allowed him to accept little marks of approbation. "Hey, there, sergeant I” generally prefaced the bestowal of something In the shape o* a gift. ‘Tt’s duty I have to attend to all night long,” he told his wife. “They

say there’s a regular band of burglars on the move.” Now two problems of fate were to work out a strange series of circumstances, in the Christmas eve events appertaining to the redoubtable sergeant. The first was that the little town jail had burned down the week previous. The second was that a new family had moved to town early in December. comprising the Waynes—father, mother, a charming daughter of seventeen apd three young children. As Moore passed their place he noted that It was all dark, the family probably absent at some local entertainment, and he caught the echo of a sound resembling the tipping over of a piece of furniture. Then from an open window a form protruded. “Burglars!” muttered the sergeant, and made a dash for the presumable despoiler. “Hold on I” spoke the latter excitedly. “It’s all right.” “Oh, is it?” purred Moore derisively. “What’s jthat?” and he made a grab at the protruding pocket of the young man. “If you’ll. allow me to explain,” began the latter. “I know the people who live here.”

“Oh, yes, very particular friends! Cordially Invited you to break Into the house at any hour of the night! And this —a new muffler and a pair of gloves. Say, you come with me," and the sergeant marched his captive from the spot “If you’ll only let me explain," pleaded the young man, but Moore was deaf, blind to all but duty. Fifteen

minutes later the captive found himself locked Into a stone cellar, and the sergeant handed its key to his wife, saying: “You might pass tn a jug of water and a plate of bread to my catch through the window; it’s got no sash to it. I’ll drop around again soon.” The ydbng man in retirement was pacing about In the dark and anathematizing his officious captor when Mrs. Moore timidly approached the window. “Here’s some water and a little food,” she said, “so you won’t suffer,” and just as she passed the things in she uttered a shriek and crouched down trembling. Two men had suddenly appeared, real burglars this time. “Oh, sir!” whispered the woman through the cellar window, “they may kill the children! And then there’s all Tim’s half yearly pay in the bureau! Please help me. Here’s the key to the cellar door,” and*Something tinkled on the floor. Something else then transpired. The released captive located and knocked down and tied hand and foot the prowler within the house. Then coming unawares upon the armed bandit outside he toppled him over, rendered him helpless, and seemed to enjoy the excitement of it all. “I am Roscoe Walden and I am engaged to Ethel Wayne,” he explained 'an hour later to the bewildered sergeant, after the latter had transferred the two criminals to limbo. “This is the first time I have visited their new home, and I got in surreptitiously to place a present on the Christmas tree as a surprise to my lady love. I don’t want the Waynes to know I am in Plympton until after she finds it” There was a rare spice of adventurous excitement for pretty Ethel in her devoted lover’s unique experience when he recited the same the next morning. And meantime Sergeant Moore was gaining popularity and the community’s good will by detailing his heroic act which had signalized Christmas eve in the apprehension of two desperate criminals who, but for him, might have had the entire town at their mercy.