"No--what?" asked Miss Bessie.
"Why that villain was going to burn your house."
Miss Bessie gave a little shriek. "Why, what do you mean?"
"Well," said Jack, "they think by what they discovered, that he planned
to pack his bag with silver, and carry it off; but just before he did so
he would pour oil around the room, and set fire to it, so people would
not find out that he had been robbing you."
"Why we might have all been burned to death," said Miss Bessie. "He
couldn't burn the dining-room without setting fire to the rest of the
house."
"Certainly not," said Jack, that shows what a villain he is."
"Do they know this for certain, Jack?" asked Miss Laura.
"Well, they suppose so; they found some bottles of oil along with the
bag he had for the silver."
"How horrible! You darling old Joe, perhaps you saved our lives," and
pretty Miss Bessie kissed my ugly, swollen head. I could do nothing but
lick her little hand, but always after that I thought a great deal of
her.
It is now some years since all this happened, and I might as well tell
the end of it. The next day the Drurys came home, and everything was
found out about Jenkins.
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