American Fairy Tales | Page 6

get positions in the gas office," she said, "but you
might become politicians."
"No!" cried Beni, with sudden fierceness; "we must not abandon our
high calling. Bandits we have always been, and bandits we must
remain!"
"'Tis so!" agreed the fat man.
"Even in Chicago there must be people to rob," remarked Victor, with
cheerfulness.
Martha was distressed.
"I think they have all been robbed," she objected.
"Then we can rob the robbers, for we have experience and talent
beyond the ordinary," said Beni.
"Oh, dear; oh, dear!" moaned the girl; "why did Uncle Walter ever send
you here in this chest?"
The bandits became interested.
"That is what we should like to know," declared Victor, eagerly.
"But no one will ever know, for Uncle Walter was lost while hunting
elephants in Africa," she continued, with conviction.

"Then we must accept our fate and rob to the best of our ability," said
Victor. "So long as we are faithful to our beloved profession we need
not be ashamed."
"'Tis so!" cried the fat man.
"Brothers! we will begin now. Let us rob the house we are in."
"Good!" shouted the others and sprang to their feet.
Beni turned threatingly upon the child.
"Remain here!" he commanded. "If you stir one step your blood will be
on your own head!" Then he added, in a gentler voice: "Don't be afraid;
that's the way all bandits talk to their captives. But of course we
wouldn't hurt a young lady under any circumstances."
"Of course not," said Victor.
The fat man drew a big knife from his belt and flourished it about his
head.
"S'blood!" he ejaculated, fiercely.
"S'bananas!" cried Beni, in a terrible voice.
"Confusion to our foes!" hissed Victor.
And then the three bent themselves nearly double and crept stealthily
down the stairway with cocked pistols in their hands and glittering
knives between their teeth, leaving Martha trembling with fear and too
horrified to even cry for help.
How long she remained alone in the attic she never knew, but finally
she heard the catlike tread of the returning bandits and saw them
coming up the stairs in single file.
All bore heavy loads of plunder in their arms, and Lugui was balancing
a mince pie on the top of a pile of her mother's best evening dresses.

Victor came next with an armful of bric-a-brac, a brass candelabra and
the parlor clock. Beni had the family Bible, the basket of silverware
from the sideboard, a copper kettle and papa's fur overcoat.
"Oh, joy!" said Victor, putting down his load; "it is pleasant to rob once
more."
"Oh, ecstacy!" said Beni; but he let the kettle drop on his toe and
immediately began dancing around in anguish, while he muttered queer
words in the Italian language.
"We have much wealth," continued Victor, holding the mince pie while
Lugui added his spoils to the heap; "and all from one house! This
America must be a rich place."
With a dagger he then cut himself a piece of the pie and handed the
remainder to his comrades. Whereupon all three sat upon the floor and
consumed the pie while Martha looked on sadly.
"We should have a cave," remarked Beni; "for we must store our
plunder in a safe place. Can you tell us of a secret cave?" he asked
Martha.
"There's a Mammoth cave," she answered, "but it's in Kentucky. You
would be obliged to ride on the cars a long time to get there."
The three bandits looked thoughtful and munched their pie silently, but
the next moment they were startled by the ringing of the electric
doorbell, which was heard plainly even in the remote attic.
"What's that?" demanded Victor, in a hoarse voice, as the three
scrambled to their feet with drawn daggers.
Martha ran to the window and saw it was only the postman, who had
dropped a letter in the box and gone away again. But the incident gave
her an idea of how to get rid of her troublesome bandits, so she began
wringing her hands as if in great distress and cried out:

"It's the police!"
The robbers looked at one another with genuine alarm, and Lugui asked,
tremblingly:
"Are there many of them?"
"A hundred and twelve!" exclaimed Martha, after pretending to count
them.
"Then we are lost!" declared Beni; "for we could never fight so many
and live."
"Are they armed?" inquired Victor, who was shivering as if cold.
"Oh, yes," said she. "They have guns and swords and pistols and axes
and--and--"
"And what?" demanded Lugui.
"And cannons!"
The three wicked ones groaned aloud and Beni said, in a hollow voice:
"I hope they will kill us quickly and not put us to the torture. I have
been told these Americans are painted Indians, who