Makes the Whole World Kin

by O. Henry

　　

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The burglar stepped inside the window quickly, and then he took his time.A burglar who respects his art always takes his time before takinganything else. The house was a private residence. By its boarded front door anduntrimmed Boston ivy the burglar knew that the mistress of it was sittingon some oceanside piazza telling a sympathetic man in a yachting cap thatno one had ever understood her sensitive, lonely heart. He knew by thelight in the third-story front windows, and by the lateness of the season,that the master of the house had come home, and would soon extinguish hislight and retire. For it was September of the year and of the soul, inwhich season the house's good man comes to consider roof gardens andstenographers as vanities, and to desire the return of his mate and themore durable blessings of decorum and the moral excellencies. The burglar lighted a cigarette. The guarded glow of the matchilluminated his salient points for a moment. He belonged to the thirdtype of burglars. This third type has not yet been recognized and accepted. The police havemade us familiar with the first and second. Their classification issimple. The collar is the distinguishing mark. When a burglar is caught who does not wear a collar he is described as adegenerate of the lowest type, singularly vicious and depraved, and issuspected of being the desperate criminal who stole the handcuffs out ofPatrolman Hennessy's pocket in 1878 and walked away to escape arrest. The other well-known type is the burglar who wears a collar. He is alwaysreferred to as a Raffles in real life. He is invariably a gentleman bydaylight, breakfasting in a dress suit, and posing as a paperhanger, whileafter dark he plies his nefarious occupation of burglary. His mother isan extremely wealthy and respected resident of Ocean Grove, and when he isconducted to his cell he asks at once for a nail file and the PoliceGazette. He always has a wife in every State in the Union and fiancees inall the Territories, and the newspapers print his matrimonial gallery outof their stock of cuts of the ladies who were cured by only one bottleafter having been given up by five doctors, experiencing great reliefafter the first dose. The burglar wore a blue sweater. He was neither a Raffles nor one of thechefs from Hell's Kitchen. The police would have been baffled had theyattempted to classify him. They have not yet heard of the respectable,unassuming burglar who is neither above nor below his station. This burglar of the third class began to prowl. He wore no masks, darklanterns, or gum shoes. He carried a 88-calibre revolver in his pocket,and he chewed peppermint gum thoughtfully. The furniture of the house was swathed in its summer dust protectors. Thesilver was far away in safe-deposit vaults. The burglar expected noremarkable "haul." His objective point was that dimly lighted room wherethe master of the house should be sleeping heavily after whatever solacehe had sought to lighten the burden of his loneliness. A "touch" might bemade there to the extent of legitimate, fair professional profits -- loosemoney, a watch, a jewelled stick-pin -- nothing exorbitant or beyond reason. He had seen the window left open and had taken the chance. The burglar softly opened the door of the lighted room. The gas wasturned low. A man lay in the bed asleep. On the dresser lay many thingsin confusion -- a crumpled roll of bills, a watch, keys, three pokerchips, crushed cigars, a pink silk hair bow, and an unopened bottle ofbromo-seltzer for a bulwark in the morning. The burglar took three steps toward the dresser. The man in the bedsuddenly uttered a squeaky groan and opened his eyes. His right hand slidunder his pillow, but remained there. "Lay still," said the burglar in conversational tone. Burglars of thethird type do not hiss. The citizen in the bed looked at the round end ofthe burglar's pistol and lay still. "Now hold up both your hands," commanded the burglar. The citizen had a little, pointed, brown-and-gray beard, like that of apainless dentist. He looked solid, esteemed, irritable, and disgusted.He sat up in bed and raised his right hand above his head. "Up with the other one," ordered the burglar. "You might be amphibiousand shoot with your left. You can count two, can't you? Hurry up, now." "Can't raise the other one," said the citizen, with a contortion of hislineaments. "What's the matter with it?" "Rheumatism in the shoulder." "Inflammatory?" "Was. The inflammation has gone down." The burglar stood for a moment ortwo, holding his gun on the afflicted one. He glanced at the plunder onthe dresser and then, with a half-embarrassed air, back at the man in thebed. Then he, too, made a sudden grimace. "Don't stand there making faces," snapped the citizen, bad-humouredly."If you've come to burgle why don't you do it? There's some stuff lyingaround." "'Scuse me," said the burglar, with a grin; "but it just socked me one,too. It's good for you that rheumatism and me happens to be old pals. Igot it in my left arm, too. Most anybody but me would have popped youwhen you wouldn't hoist that left claw of yours." "How long have you had it?" inquired the citizen. "Four years. I guess that ain't all. Once you've got it, it's you for arheumatic life -- that's my judgment." "Ever try rattlesnake oil?" asked the citizen, interestedly. "Gallons," said the burglar. "If all the snakes I've used the oil of wasstrung out in a row they'd reach eight times as far as Saturn, and therattles could be heard at Valparaiso, Indiana, and back." "Some use Chiselum's Pills," remarked the citizen. "Fudge!" said the burglar. "Took 'em five months. No good. I had somerelief the year I tried Finkelham's Extract, Balm of Gilead poultices andPotts's Pain Pulverizer; but I think it was the buckeye I carried in mypocket what done the trick." "Is yours worse in the morning or at night?" asked the citizen. "Night," said the burglar; "just when I'm busiest. Say, take down thatarm of yours -- I guess you won't -- Say! did you ever try Blickerstaff'sBlood Builder?" "I never did. Does yours come in paroxysms or is it a steady pain?" The burglar sat down on the foot of the bed and rested his gun on hiscrossed knee. "It jumps," said he. "It strikes me when I ain't looking for it. I hadto give up second-story work because I got stuck sometimes half-way up.Tell you what -- I don't believe the bloomin' doctors know what is goodfor it." "Same here. I've spent a thousand dollars without getting any relief.Yours swell any?" "Of mornings. And when it's goin' to rain -- great Christopher!" "Me, too," said the citizen. "I can tell when a streak of humidity thesize of a table-cloth starts from Florida on its way to New York. And ifI pass a theatre where there's an 'East Lynne' matinee going on, themoisture starts my left arm jumping like a toothache." "It's undiluted -- hades!" said the burglar. "You're dead right," said the citizen. The burglar looked down at his pistol and thrust it into his pocket withan awkward attempt at ease. "Say, old man," he said, constrainedly, "ever try opodeldoc?" "Slop!" said the citizen angrily. "Might as well rub on restaurantbutter." "Sure," concurred the burglar. "It's a salve suitable for little Minniewhen the kitty scratches her finger. I'll tell you what! We're up againstit. I only find one thing that eases her up. Hey? Little old sanitary,ameliorating, lest-we-forget Booze. Say -- this job's off -- 'scuse me --get on your clothes and let's go out and have some. 'Scuse the liberty,but -- ouch! There she goes again!" "For a week," said the citizen. "I haven't been able to dress myselfwithout help. I'm afraid Thomas is in bed, and --" "Climb out," said the burglar, "I'll help you get into your duds." The conventional returned as a tidal wave and flooded the citizen. Hestroked his brown-and-gray beard. "It's very unusual --" he began. "Here's your shirt," said the burglar, "fall out. I knew a man who saidOmberry's Ointment fixed him in two weeks so he could use both hands intying his four-in-hand." As they were going out the door the citizen turned and started back. "Liked to forgot my money," he explained; "laid it on the dresser lastnight." The burglar caught him by the right sleeve. "Come on," he said bluffly. "I ask you. Leave it alone. I've got theprice. Ever try witch hazel and oil of wintergreen?"

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