MINERVA

scare them out of here yet. So, thinks I, I’ll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was dark, but I found the duke’s room, and started to paw around it with my hands; but I recollected it wouldn’t be much like the king to let anybody else take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to his room and begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn’t do nothing without a candle, and I dasn’t light one, of course. So I judged I’d got to do the other thing—lay for them and eavesdrop. About that time I hears their footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed; I reached for it, but it wasn’t where I thought it would be; but I touched the curtain that hid Mary Jane’s frocks, so I jumped in behind that and snuggled in amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still. They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn’t found the bed when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it’s kind of natural to hide under the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and the king says: “Well, what is it? And cut it middlin’ short, because it’s better for us to be down there a-whoopin’ up the mournin’ than up here givin’ ’em a chance to talk us over.” “Well, this is it, Capet. I ain’t easy; I ain’t comfortable. That doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I’ve got a notion, and I think it’s a sound one.” “What is it, duke?” “That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip it down the river with what we’ve got. Specially, seeing we got it so easy—_given_ back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of course we allowed to have to steal it back. I’m for knocking off and lighting out.” That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed. The king rips out and says: “What! And not sell out the rest o’ the property? March off like a passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous’n’ dollars’ worth o’ property layin’ around jest sufferin’ to be scooped in?—and all good, salable stuff, too.” The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn’t want to go no deeper—didn’t want to rob a lot of orphans of _everything_ they had. “Why, how you talk!” says the king. “We sha’n’t rob ’em of nothing at all but jest this money. The people that _buys_ the property is the suff’rers; because as soon ’s it’s found out ’at we didn’t own it—which won’t be long after we’ve slid—the sale won’t be valid, and it’ll all go back to the estate. These yer orphans ’ll git their house back agin, and that’s enough for _them;_ they’re young and spry, and k’n easy earn a livin’. _They_ ain’t a-goin to suffer. Why, jest think—there’s thous’n’s and thous’n’s that ain’t nigh so well off. Bless you, _they_ ain’t got noth’n’ to complain of.” Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all right, but said he believed it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that doctor hanging over them. But the king says: “Cuss the doctor! What do we k’yer for _him?_ Hain’t we got all the fools in town on our side? And ain’t that a big enough majority in any town?” So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says: “I don’t think we put that money in a good place.” That cheered me up. I’d begun to think I warn’t going to get a hint of no kind t