The Burglar and the Blizzard: A Christmas Story

								


The Burglar and the Blizzard
A CHRISTMAS STORY
BY ALICE DUER MILLER

AUTHOR OF “THE BLUE ARCH,” ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
CHARLOTTE HARDING
Hearst’s International Library Co., Inc.

1914

Contents


Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII

ILLUSTRATIONS

 The Burglar
“It was a young lady who disposed of the silver”
“Good God,” he cried, “what a night you have had”
He let McVay out of the closet
She was dressed in his sister’s sables—ready for departure
“Please move a little back, Holland,” he said, “I want to get nearer the fire”
“My dear fellow—pray allow me”
“I have here a slight token, in honor of the day”

The Burglar and the Blizzard

I

Geoffrey Holland stood up and for the second time surveyed the
restaurant in search of other members of his party, two fingers in the
pocket of his waistcoat, as if they had just relinquished his watch. He
was tall enough to be conspicuous and well bred enough to be
indifferent to the fact, good looking, in a bronzed, blond clean-shaven
way, and branded in the popular imagination as a young and active
millionaire.
At a neighbouring table a man lent forward and whispered to the other
men and women with him:
“Do you know who that is?—that is young Holland.”
“What, that boy! He doesn’t look as if he were out of school.”
“No,” said one of the women, elaborating the comment, “he does not look
old enough to order a dinner, let alone managing mines.”
“Oh, I guess he can order a dinner all right,” said the first man. “He
is older than he looks. He must be twenty-six.”
“What do you suppose he does with all that money?”
The first thing he did with it, at the moment, was to purchase an
evening paper, for just then he snapped his fingers at a boy, who
promptly ran to get him one.
“Well, one thing he does,” answered the man who had first given
information, “he has an apartment in this building, up stairs, and I
bet that costs him a pretty penny.”
In the meantime Holland had opened his paper, scanned the head lines,
and was about to turn to the stock quotations when a paragraph of
interest caught his eye. So marked was the gesture with which he raised
it to his eyes that his admirers at the next table noticed it, and
speculated on the subject of the paragraph.
It was headed: “Millionaires’ Summer Homes Looted,” and said further:
“Hillsborough, December 21st. The fourth in a series of daring
robberies which have been taking place in this neighbourhood during the
past month occurred last night when the residence of C. B. Vaughan of
New York was entered and valuable wines and bric-a-brac removed. The
robbery was not discovered until this morning when a shutter was
observed unfastened on the second story. On entering the watchman found