David S.Greenberg
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. Ben B. Lindsey 
 
 C_^

 
 A BUNCH 
 OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 By DAVID S. GREENBERG 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 PROFESSOR FREDERICK G. BONSER, 
 
 Teachers College, Columbia University 
 
 
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 Illustrated by 
 WILLIAM JACKSON BROWNLOW 
 
 THE SHAKESPEARE PRESS, 
 
 114-116 East 28th Street, 
 
 New York. 
 
 1913.
 
 Copyright, 1913, 
 
 By 
 
 DAVID S. GREENBERG
 
 
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES iii 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The story of the "Bunch of Little Thieves," is 
 fiction, but it is apparent that the author has broad 
 personal experience with the conditions in reforma- 
 tories. The work concerns itself largely with what 
 can be done to bring out and develop the latent 
 "will to be good," of our bad boys, who are shown 
 to be victims rather than enemies of society. It 
 portrays the possibilities of their return to that 
 society as members whose lives may be a satisfac- 
 tion to themselves, and a benefit to the race. It 
 shows that the problem of securing the opportunity 
 for really helpful work and the cooperation of the 
 management is far harder than that of securing the 
 response and cooperation of the boys themselves. 
 
 But what the author strives to make most clear 
 is that the problem of the bad boy is not apart from 
 the problem of life itself and all that that implies, 
 and that it can not be solved by those who do not 
 understand the desires and aspirations of the human 
 race. Behind the boy are the poverty and misery of 
 the degraded home and the widowed mother; behind 
 are the inefficient public schools which rate boys in 
 the mass and have no respect for particular apti- 
 tudes, interests, or vocational needs; behind are the 
 police who know little save the cold de-humanizing 
 law of overcoming by fear and physical force; be- 
 hind are the dives, graft, and the vice of the under- 
 world; behind are the greed and pelf of power of the 
 political sharks who live upon the debauchery of 
 those below them and the perfidy of those above; 
 
 in
 
 iv A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 behind are the wealth and arrogance and phar- 
 isaism of those who control vast fortunes, subvert 
 laws to their own designs, and count other men as 
 but so much fuel to the fires of their ambitions and 
 greed — system — system — system — de-humanized in- 
 stitutions where the individual is lost in the mass, 
 where each stratum of life points to the next higher 
 as the source of its misfortunes until those are 
 reached who stand highest in wealth and power and 
 authority whose only reply to the charge is, "and 
 what are you going to do about it?" 
 
 The overt act which leads to commitment to a 
 so-called reformatory institution too often means 
 but the real beginning of training for a criminal 
 career rather than the end of it. In reformatories, 
 whether for old or young, the program for correc- 
 tion has very largely been based upon the old idea 
 that the person to be reformed is one whose very 
 nature is depraved, who has no good in him, and 
 who must be literally trained into subservience by 
 the application of physical force and the fear of its 
 brutal consequences. A man is often chosen as 
 superintendent or instructor or foreman in such 
 an institution because of proven ability as a success- 
 ful master of men by strong arm methods. The 
 committed boy is treated as a confirmed enemy of 
 society, as one who is wholly unresponsive to the 
 appeals of human sympathy and ideals. No pains 
 is spared to make him feel this attitude. His every 
 act is treated with suspicion and distrust. He is 
 spoken to and of as a little thief, a little tough, or 
 a little criminal. The regime under which he lives 
 forces him into a cringing, resentful attitude, and he 
 goes out a confirmed enemy of society, becoming
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES v 
 
 such as the result of moody reflections, and not be- 
 cause of the casual conditions of the environment 
 which often accounts for his commitment. 
 
 Modern thinkers, actual workers in the reform 
 movement, have discovered that the natures of the 
 greater portion of juvenile offenders are entirely the 
 same as those of other children, that conditions of 
 environment, social and economic, are largely re- 
 sponsible for juvenile delinquency, that the substi- 
 tution of favorable surroundings for unfavorable are 
 often sufficient to remove all tendencies to criminal 
 conduct, and that juvenile offenders do respond 
 with all of the simple and virtuous natures of the 
 common, adolescent childhood when appealed to in 
 a truly human fashion. All of these discoveries of 
 the present century, in which the work of Judge 
 Lindsey, and Jane Addams has played a most import- 
 anf part, have not yet worked their influence into 
 the management of most of our reformatory insti- 
 tutions, because institutional management and con- 
 trol have been reduced to a svstem, and, unfortunate- 
 ly. this system is more or less vitally a part of the 
 svstem which lives by political preferment. To 
 secure change means long-continued, painful, 
 thankless struggle. It means not only the educa- 
 tion of those whose ideas and ideals must be 
 changed, but also the dislodging of forces whose 
 only considerations are those of sinister financial 
 gain or advantage. This narrative points out con- 
 crt'lfly the difficulties of the problem, and shows 
 how the methods of machine politics may effectually 
 check or prevent reform, even when well begun. 
 
 Surely, the boy who is committed must be re- 
 'I'-'-iiii'd, but there must lie no thought of stopping
 
 vi A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 until the great social injustices which are respon- 
 sible for the boy's undoing are removed. The story 
 of the "Bunch of Little Thieves" is a protest against 
 the inefficiency of the public school system which 
 stimulates and tolerates truancy; against the police 
 system with its laws of the jungle; against the sys- 
 tem of tolerance and encouragement of an under- 
 world by a callous society, indifferent to the well- 
 being of those of ill favor; and against a great, inert 
 public opinion, right in intellect and feeling, but 
 dormant because of the inconvenience of action and 
 the selfishness of its personal concerns. 
 
 The old order must pass away as surely as vir- 
 tue is eternal and vice is transient. Every appeal 
 such as this, founded upon facts, must have its in- 
 fluence. Every response that aids in the more hu- 
 mane treatment of the victims of an undemocratic 
 society will aid in drawing attention to the prob- 
 lem as a whole and will ultimately have its influence 
 in the broader social reform. 
 
 Just as Michael Roate's potential humanity was 
 finally reached and surrounded with the conditions 
 for its development, so may other delinquents of 
 similar types be reached and redeemed. 
 
 May it be the mission of this revelation of the 
 true nature of boyhood, and of the suffering and 
 abuse to which it is subjected by the crimes com- 
 mitted in the name of reform, to awaken a response 
 which will reform the institutions themselves, and 
 through them teach the reasonable treatment of boy 
 life to prevent its fall as well as redeem it when it 
 has fallen. 
 
 FREDERICK G. BONSER, 
 Teachers College, Columbia University.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES vii 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The Army of Little Criminals the world over, and 
 especially in the United States, has increased and is 
 increasing to such an extent that even the most in- 
 different among us is becoming alarmed. Thou- 
 sands of children are daily coming to the Children's 
 Courts and are daily being sent to reformatories. 
 Great sums of money are being spent by the State 
 and by private individuals in building and maintain- 
 ing such institutions. 
 
 A great number of reformatory boys are com- 
 mitted to the same institution a number of times 
 and, when old enough, are sent to enlarge the popu- 
 lation of our adult prisons. 
 
 These facts may not be found in the annual re- 
 ports of many of our reformatory superintendents, 
 but it is hard to think of a more unreliable source of 
 information. The author of a reformatory superin- 
 tendent's annual report, whether it is the superin- 
 tendent himself, or the man who writes it for him, 
 in most cases tells what he knows should be told 
 of a reformatory, and polishes that information up 
 with unreliable figures. 
 
 Reformatories, with few exceptions, are merely 
 houses of detention, where a boy who has become 
 unbearable on the street is kept for a period. 
 
 Not only is nothing done to reform the bad boy 
 at most of our institutions; but often a boy is com- 
 mitted for a minor offense, meets and becomes a 
 companion of more criminally experienced inmates,
 
 viii A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 and learns the "in's and out's" of criminality which 
 before his committal were unknown to him. He is 
 sent to an institution where he meets with condi- 
 tions which are possibly worse, surely no better, 
 than those that have made him what he is; is dis- 
 charged after a given period, which is alike for all 
 offenders; commits another crime, perhaps a great- 
 er one than the first; is committed again; earns a 
 second parole; commits another crime; and is final- 
 ly sentenced to prison, condemned by society as a 
 born criminal — incorrigible. 
 
 A few months of service, not directed, controlled 
 and flattered investigation, would convince any man, 
 familiar with modern pedagogical ideas and prin- 
 ciples, of the utter injustice of such a condemnation. 
 
 The apparently imaginary facts, embodied in "A 
 Bunch of Little Thieves" are real, come from actual 
 experience, and will, I hope, sustain my contentions. 
 The title is selected as indicating the attitude on 
 the part of most reformatory officials towards the 
 delinquents, who by order of the State become their 
 victims. 
 
 D. S. G. 
 Jamaica, L. I., 
 December, 1912.
 
 Chapter 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 III 
 
 IV 
 
 V 
 
 VI 
 
 VII 
 
 VIII 
 
 IX 
 
 X 
 
 XI 
 
 XII 
 
 XIII 
 
 XIV 
 
 XV 
 
 XVI 
 
 XVII 
 
 XVIII 
 
 1 
 
 II 
 III 
 
 IV 
 
 V 
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page. 
 
 Introduction 3 
 
 Preface 7 
 
 The Cause of an Apple and a Child 11 
 
 Home and School 17 
 
 A Turn in the Road 31 
 
 Cottage One, Number Thirty-Three 42 
 
 Unoiled Machinery 50 
 
 His First Lesson in Reformation 66 
 
 Visitors 71 
 
 The Family .Increases 78 
 
 Some More Teachers 102 
 
 New Forces Ill 
 
 New Effects 126 
 
 Refugees 155 
 
 An Official Rectification of an Unofficial Mistake. .163 
 
 Victory 199 
 
 An Interminable Reformation 215 
 
 The Battle Lost 223 
 
 Twilight Deepens Into Night 237 
 
 A Flight to Tower Hill 245 
 
 (Book Two) A Vision 263 
 
 The Vision Unfolds Its Reality 275 
 
 One Day on Tower Hill 287 
 
 Another Tragedy at Abolt 310 
 
 A Living Plea and Living Evidence 314 
 
 Abolt School and Tower Hill 321 
 
 Afterword 325
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE 
 THIEVES 
 
 BOOK ONE 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CAUSE OF AN APPLE AND A CHILD 
 
 It was Michael Roate that the hands of the law 
 had fallen upon; and it might have been number 
 thirty-three or a block of wood, or the falling might 
 have been an accident worthy of a good laugh or 
 of even less importance, as far as most of the people 
 on a squirmy street of the great city slums were 
 concerned. Some, however, were concerned in pe- 
 culiar ways of their own. There was the crowd of 
 busybodies always on the lookout for whatever 
 may happen, whose sole reason for existence seems 
 to be the constituting of breathless assemblies, 
 whose attraction for each other is governed by the 
 law of imitation, who stops to look for no other rea- 
 son than that other members of their society are 
 doing so, just as they wear a hat or specially cut 
 cloak or political principle, or ghost of one, because 
 the rest of the membership, led by one or two, are 
 doing so. Aside from these, there were three other 
 parties concerned — an emaciated and dirty individ- 
 ual who had lost an apple, Michael Roate accused of 
 desiring and taking it, and the laws of society im- 
 personated by a rather weighty policeman, who had 
 come to rescue it,
 
 12 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 To sum the matter up, an apple had been lost 
 and the machinery of society was forced into mo- 
 tion. 
 
 The big policeman had laid a heavy hand on 
 the shoulder of the boy, Michael Roate, and from 
 the grip of that large hand, like the rays of sunset, 
 creases shot out in all upper directions on the ragged 
 coat, and pointed mercilessly to the frightened yel- 
 low face. The expression on the officer's face was 
 one of vast importance and power. He waited for 
 the coming of the patrol, the other good-sized offi- 
 cer, and the two excited horses. The pedlar, the 
 loser of the apple, who was encircled by a part of 
 the crowd, went into great antics, explaining it all, 
 shook his fist at the captured Michael, and went off 
 selling his wares in operatic fashion. 
 
 The crowd tightened about the center of interest, 
 until repelled in profane language by the officer, 
 when they would shove backwards for a moment or 
 so until the growth of the assembly forced them to 
 the center again. Soon the ringing of the patrol 
 bell caused an opening. Michael was hurriedly 
 thrown into the wagon, and the crowd was left to 
 look about for other excitement. 
 
 Michael was dressed raggedly, of course, and his 
 rags were not clean. His hands were covered with 
 warts. The long-drawn face was covered with a 
 clear yellow skin. Everything about him, save his 
 large blue eyes, spelled ugliness and dirt. He was 
 moved on rapidly to the Children's Court. 
 
 The Children's Court! What a sordid affair it 
 was for children! Dirty, noisy, sunless, and un- 
 cared for! Walls wet and musty, and window panes 
 unwashed — translucent rather than transparent, and
 
 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 13 
 
 partially hidden by torn and crooked window 
 blinds. 
 
 Michael had been there before, and though there 
 was no little of the familiar about the place to him, 
 he was filled with dread— dread for the immense 
 dark hall room, the many parents or guardians doz- 
 ing in their part of the court room, and the many 
 boys and fewer girls on the other side of the fence 
 and nearer to the black-gowned individual, with 
 the countless other individuals about him — the 
 worst dread of all. But once seated upon one of 
 the benches in the midst of the multitude of little 
 sinners, and one of them, rather than alone, he lost 
 the greater part of his fear and began a conversa- 
 tion with the little man next to him: 
 
 "D n pedlar! I only took an apple an' he 
 
 went in on me." 
 
 "D n pedlars!" came back from his very 
 
 slightly moved acquaintance, who sat with the air 
 of an old man, rich in experience and certain, as 
 
 a consequence thereof, that everybody was a d d 
 
 something. 
 
 "Nothin' '11 happen," said Michael, betraying a 
 small amount of anxiety and a great amount of 
 fear. 
 
 "Can't tell." 
 
 Michael turned half way about. This was un- 
 usual. In spite of the amount of fear, it was their 
 habit to encourage each other. This was unusual 
 and might have grown from experience. "What 
 can they do?" he asked with feigned disgust. "Tell 
 you not to do it again and — " 
 
 He was interrupted. A sudden shriek of mad- 
 ness rent the thick court room air, and rushing
 
 14 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 noises and clatter of feet accompanied it and the 
 more horrible shrieks that followed. In the midst 
 of the dirty section provided for the convenience of 
 the waiting parents or guardians, an uncouth worn- 
 out frame of a woman fell to the floor with a thud 
 and her legs kicked furiously upon its filthy sur- 
 face. 
 
 With arms raised upward, shrieking and con- 
 demning all about her, she fell frothing at the 
 mouth, and developed such strength that four huge 
 officers could not control her. 
 
 Her continued screaming, the irregular thump- 
 ing of her feet, grown strangely energetic, con- 
 tinued to fill with dread the dried up little hearts of 
 the huddled mass of culprits on the other side of 
 the fence, all of whom but two had arisen on their 
 toes to see more clearly what they instinctively felt 
 a horror for. The two knew all about it and were 
 ashamed — for they were branded with kinship to 
 the mass of hair and rags that was so horrible. 
 
 In the midst of the tumult the gavel came thun- 
 dering down upon the counter of justice and his 
 honor commanded: "Leave her alone! People in 
 that condition must be let alone ! The Court will go 
 on with its business!" It did go on and it had a 
 great deal of business. 
 
 But it was awful to have that horrible thing 
 about when the Court had so much of importance 
 before it. The four heavy guards grabbed each a 
 leg and an arm, with smiles on their faces, appar- 
 ently enjoying the joke immensely, and rushed past 
 the horrified throng of parents, out through a mys- 
 terious dark doorway, from where they returned 
 some moments later, still enjoying the joke, and
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 15 
 
 even infecting a few of the boys on trial, for they 
 smiled too. 
 
 To Michael this was too mysterious to provoke 
 laughter. Besides there was a something in the air 
 now that he had not expected. His thoughts became 
 heavy, and his head was bent forward stolidly. 
 
 Several hours later, when most of the boys who 
 had come before him had given up their bench room 
 to the boys that came after him, Michael was fright- 
 ened by the sound of his own name. He was want- 
 ed before the bar of justice, and rose hastily and 
 nervously. He was led around a clutter of desks, 
 and stood right up before the judge, the blood rush- 
 ing to his face and turning the green yellow to a 
 red. The judge stared at him for a few seconds, 
 and Michael shook from head to foot. The record 
 was wanted of the offender. The clerk from behind 
 touched his hand and asked, "When were you ar- 
 rested last?" 
 
 Michael turned about to answer. 
 
 The judge was furious, or at least he feigned fury 
 to teach him respect more emphatically. "How dare 
 you turn your back upon the Court?" he yelled.* 
 
 Michael almost fell from his feet, in bewilder- 
 ment. The District Attorney hurriedly whirled him 
 about. 
 
 "Your trial," said the judge when he was given 
 the bad record Michael had already made, "will 
 take place on Wednesday. You see that your moth- 
 
 *Thi8 Is an unexaggerated description of a real court 
 room and a real judge. The writer is aware, however, that 
 some judgea are kind and sympathetic and that some court 
 rooms are sunnier.
 
 16 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 er is with you or we will send for her with a patrol 
 wagon — do you understand?" 
 
 Michael understood and was temporarily dis- 
 charged, and given over to the probation officer, 
 who made arrangements for his security, and sent 
 him home.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HOME AND SCHOOL 
 
 Michael was let loose, and the further he got 
 from the Court House the freer he felt, till the 
 thought of home brought upon him by the near- 
 ness to it, expelled one fear and substituted another. 
 His home was one of the many that are hidden in 
 the darkness of a brick tenement. With the ques- 
 tion uppermost in his mind — "What is going to 
 happen now?" — he entered the hallway. The smell 
 there was bad, but his mistreated sense of smell was 
 weakened and almost dead. Besides there were in- 
 finitely worse things to think about just then. 
 
 He climbed four unlighted stairways, with the 
 aid of the sticky banister, and made his way along 
 a narrow greasy corridor. In one of the dark cor- 
 ners was his home. He hesitated — straightened his 
 facial expression, and cautiously opened the door. 
 An overpowering whiff of boiled clothes and soap 
 was all he could see or feel for a moment; then grad- 
 ually he distinguished a dim gaslight, which went 
 through the operations of a sickly dance, because of 
 the opened door and the consequent draught. 
 
 His mother was washing clothes. On the oil- 
 cloth covered table, probably unwashed for a week 
 or more, protected from its possible effect by a large 
 piece of paper, lay a bundle of coats, the buttons 
 of which had not yet all been sewed on. This 
 woman, paradoxically fat, with wrinkled brow and 
 perspiration running down the furrows, went on
 
 18 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 washing, apparently very miserable about some- 
 thing. Michael eyed her hesitatingly a moment 
 from the doorway; then, feeling safe, and thinking 
 it best to show no signs of worry, made for the 
 door of a dilapidated imitation of an ice box and 
 began rummaging about among the few pieces ot 
 foodstuffs saturated with the soapy steam. 
 
 This was just what she wanted, to relieve herself. 
 Seeing him at a safe distance from the doorway, 
 with his head in the box, she came down upon him 
 with a heavy wet shirt, from which she had just 
 wrung the surplus water. A button on one end of 
 it struck him on the neck, caused him to scream for 
 mercy and roll over on the floor. 
 
 The animal mother's heart was touched. She 
 was sorry at sight of him doubled up on the floor, 
 but did not dare admit her regret. 
 
 She went on washing, and through the steam 
 heard the painful wailing of her offspring. She 
 heard it growing more bitter though somewhat 
 softer, and fell into hating herself and her exist- 
 ence ; and, as she went on rubbing generously some 
 useless old rag, hot tears were mixed with the dirty 
 water. 
 
 Michael cried till he was tired, crept away to his 
 end of the family's sole bedroom, and with his 
 dirty wart-covered hand, wiped off the film of vapor 
 on the window pane that he might see the squirm- 
 ing of the human worms four flights below. He 
 watched them for a long time and, with the move- 
 ments of the two endless streams, he lost his con- 
 sciousness and with it his worries. With forehead 
 against the pane, he fell asleep.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 19 
 
 When Michael awoke again, the night was ap- 
 proaching. Lights here and there were already lit, 
 and the masses on the street were hurrying their 
 footsteps. He had had a bad dream while he slept, 
 but the thought that his elder brother was coming 
 home from the shop, was even more horrifying. 
 
 The yellow-skinned senior soon appeared, and 
 Michael deliberated nervously whether he should 
 jump out of the window or face what he knew from 
 experience was about to come. He judged by his 
 mother's actions that the neighbors had already in- 
 formed her of what had happened, and that she 
 would at once tell his brother all about it. He had 
 very little time to do his deliberating, however, for 
 no sooner did Mrs. Roate tell Alex what had hap- 
 pened, than he made for Michael and brought him 
 by the collar into the kitchen. 
 
 "Now I want to know what happened," he be- 
 gan. 
 
 Michael sobbed bitterly and loud fry way of an- 
 swer. 
 
 "If you don't take him in hand," cried Mrs. 
 Roate, "and act as a father to him, he will die on the 
 gallows. Every day another arrest. To-day the 
 neighbors were all talking about him. What shall 
 we do with him? I am an honest woman, and my 
 people were all honest. Why should I be cursed 
 with a thief? I have told him so many times its 
 much better never to taste an apple than to steal 
 it." Mrs. Roate could not continue and broke into 
 weeping. 
 
 Alex had been told often enough to be a father 
 to him, and if being a father meant the use of his 
 leather belt, Alex had been a most fatherly father,
 
 20 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 and with each boating felt his responsibility grow. 
 The fact that after all the beatings he had already 
 administered Michael continued his stealing, was 
 proof enough to the overworked mind of Alex that 
 those beatings had not been hard enough. 
 
 At sight of the belt Michael stretched up his 
 hands to protect his face and begged, "Leave me 
 alone." 
 
 But the strap came down over face and back in 
 merciless lashes. Michael was forced upon his 
 knees, a position not only physically painful but 
 humiliating to madness, and Michael clawed and bit 
 and struck back, bringing down upon himself such 
 an overpowering volley of additional lashes that he 
 finally fell upon the floor on the verge of fainting. 
 Here the mother interfered, and with her voice at an 
 extremely high pitch, pleading and wailing at the 
 same time, she hung on to the elder's arms, and 
 Michael was rescued. 
 
 The beating stopped, and with it Michael's cry- 
 ing. He forced himself up, made for his box near 
 the window, and bit his lips — a sudden power of 
 control was born of a secret plot that Michael con- 
 ceived and locked somewhere behind the fiery glare 
 of his two blue eyes. 
 
 "Go to eat," yelled Alex, still panting. 
 
 "I don't want to eat." 
 
 "You go to eat, or I'll give you some more." 
 
 With that secret plot forming itself more clear- 
 ly, and burning itself deeper into his brain, Michael 
 went to the table. 
 
 The worst of the meat, bread, and soup, in the 
 smallest quantities, fell to the lot of Michael as us- 
 ual. In the past, when he complained of this, he
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 21 
 
 was told that when he would go to work and bring 
 home a weekly salary, he, too, would be given more. 
 But he was not complaining that night. He had a 
 problem to solve, and thoughts of it filled him with 
 restlessness; he lay and thought and planned. 
 
 The sun never rises in the tenement district. 
 Gray day merely comes, and the tenents awake into 
 it, with a hurry to go to work, a bad taste, and a 
 head full of bad dreams. 
 
 Michael hadn't fallen asleep till late in the night, 
 and so was still sleeping soundly when his brother, 
 more cranky than ever, shook him by the shoulder 
 and demanded that he get up at once and clean up 
 for school. 
 
 "Why does one get born at all?" he kept asking 
 himself all day, and various impressions of his 
 mother, his brother, and his teacher, in fact of all 
 his world, embittered the stream of his conscious- 
 ness. He went to school because he had to, and he 
 determined to behave himself if possible, because of 
 his brother and the trial that hovered over him. 
 
 "Here is that wretched kid back again," said his 
 young lady teacher to herself, upon sight of him. 
 "I do wish he could be sent away where he belongs." 
 
 Michael started to his seat like a good boy; he 
 was too much worried to bother about tricks and 
 meanness. He decided to get to his seat as quick- 
 ly as he could, pay no attention to any of his class- 
 mates, and think, and think hard. But his was not 
 the first good or half-way good intention to be 
 turned to evil. Knowing him for what everybody 
 knew him to be, the boy in the second seat sudden- 
 ly stretched his leg to trip him. Michael was not 
 to be taiiijjerud with, so that instead of tripping as
 
 22 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 was expected of him, he kicked the outstretched 
 foot such a terrific blow that the boy fairly howled 
 with pain. 
 
 Of course Michael was a bad boy, and every- 
 body, his teacher included, knew without doubt that 
 he was, and consequently and logically, decided that 
 he was the source of the trouble. 
 
 "See here," yelled the infuriated teacher, "you 
 good for nothing! Beginning your dirty tricks 
 again?" 
 
 To practice injustice does not necessarily mean 
 a lack of appreciation of justice. The fact that 
 Michael was often a wrongdoer did not keep him 
 from feeling most intensely that an injustice had 
 been done him by the teacher, and he forgot his in- 
 tentions of behaving himself — he was mad. He 
 rushed to his seat and shuffled his feet. 
 
 "Gome right back here!" cried the teacher, being 
 certain that it would not do to let him go. "He to 
 get the best of me?" she thought, "No, sir." 
 
 Michael came back and shuffled his feet all the 
 more. 
 
 "Get into that corner and stay there," she de- 
 manded, "and I will attend to you for this some 
 other time." 
 
 The frown on Michael's face remained there 
 during the first half hour of his stay in the corner. 
 Then it gradually began to wear off, and Michael 
 slowly moved towards the window, where he could 
 look out upon the busy street below. He remained 
 in that position for some time, and was beginning 
 to tire of the people he was seeing and his own po- 
 sition, when he discovered among the crowds the 
 apple vender, who was the cause of his recent trou-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 23 
 
 bles. His excitement was intense. "D n pedlar," 
 
 he cried. Half the class were on their feet and rush- 
 ing for the windows, while the other half were at- 
 tempting to do so. 
 
 "Oh, if some lightning would strike that crea- 
 ture!" thought the school mistress, working her- 
 self into a fever trying to get the class back into 
 their seats and to stop the laughter. Then she was 
 to have her revenge. The class was quiet again, 
 and her looks worried some of them, Michael es- 
 pecially. She fell into her seat with a thud and be- 
 gan a hurried scribbling that spelled danger, and 
 Michael felt he was now in for still more. 
 
 The note written, a boy took it and left the room 
 with an alarming and prophetic bang of the door, 
 while the enraged young lady rose with the air of 
 one about to have revenge to her heart's content, 
 and proceeded with her work, her eyes flashing fire 
 towards the corner every now and then. "You mon- 
 ster! Just wait!" her expression plainly said. 
 
 The monster stood in his corner, very weak and 
 miserable, till the door opened, and a stately individ- 
 ual shoved himself in, arms akimbo, and stared. 
 When he had stared the youngster into half a fit, 
 he motioned with his hand and Michael very meek- 
 ly followed him out into the office. 
 
 "You are a bad one," said Mr. Hale, the prin- 
 cipal, after he had seated himself comfortably in 
 his office chair. He laid down his glasses, took up 
 a fifteen-inch wired ruler in his hand, and gently 
 passed it through the other, while Michael eyed it 
 with still more misery written on his face. 
 
 Michael's mother was not opposed to corporal 
 punishment and had deliberately given Mr. Hale
 
 24 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 permission to beat her son. Mr. Hale, assured that 
 no complaint would be made, asked him to come 
 nearer. 
 
 He approached very slowly, attempting to ex- 
 plain in the hope that that would replace the ruler 
 upon the desk where it belonged. "I — only — " The 
 ruler quite suddenly came down with terrible force 
 upon one of his skinny legs, and Michael was upon 
 the floor finishing his sentence with so many pierc- 
 ing "Ohs!" 
 
 "I know you," the principal explained to him, 
 "you are a bad one. Get up! Get up! I say!" 
 
 Finally getting up and wiping his eyes, till the 
 tears ran in minute streamlets in the cracky sur- 
 faces of the warts on his right hand, he was in posi- 
 tion for another whack. Down came the ruler again, 
 almost as unexpectedly as before, but not quickly 
 enough, landing on four wart covered fingers that 
 had hurried to the protection of the other fleshless 
 leg. 
 
 The howling that followed was forced to sub- 
 side by threats, and Michael was then shoved into a 
 corner. When his sobbing died down altogether, 
 Michael heard the scribbling of the principal and 
 worried again. 
 
 The door opened and the clerk, a pretty faced 
 young lady, who had been waiting without till the 
 performance should end, came tripping into the 
 room with a large blood-red apple on a napkin and 
 a plate. 
 
 Michael had been slowly turning about till he 
 could see all that was going on. 
 
 The angry face of the principal was now all 
 smiles and good humor. The ruler was placed on
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 25 
 
 the unfinished note and his delicate white hands 
 began the dissection of the apple. 
 
 "Have this," he said to the young lady, pointing 
 to the largest of the halves of the apple, whose 
 creamy whiteness made Michael almost sick with 
 desire. 
 
 "No, thank you," said the young lady, sweetly, 
 "it's all for you." 
 
 "Oh, you must," and the principal took the soft 
 bare arm, and, lifting it tenderly — there was more 
 flesh on it than on the arms he had just been abus- 
 ing — forced her to take half of the apple; and the 
 two happily munched away, until he discovered 
 Michael staring wildly. "How did I tell vou to 
 stand?" 
 
 His wet blue eyes turned about again, and his 
 fevered head fell into the corner, as if that corner 
 had been made for it. 
 
 At three o'clock Michael was released, and the 
 principal demanded that he appear in the office 
 early next morning, adding, "I'll make a good boy 
 of you." Michael was well aware of what that 
 meant, and thought, "You only let me go, and I'll 
 be here all right." 
 
 When on the street and out of reach, he made a 
 grand rush for the market, where he thought with 
 great care he might gather an apple, a sweet potato, 
 or a cake, from a push cart or stand. 
 
 "Hello Kaiky," he cried. 
 
 And Kaiky impatiently replied, "Keep still! 
 Come to camp." 
 
 "What's the use of goin' to camp when you have 
 nothin' on you?" thought Michael, but something
 
 26 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 in the attitude of his friend made him follow and 
 say nothing. 
 
 At camp they found Skinny, with pockets dan- 
 gerously bulging out, packed with sweet potatoes 
 and apples. Gamp consisted of a well fenced-in 
 vacant lot, and a huge piece of rusty tin in one cor- 
 ner of it. Under this tin they kept house, to make 
 up for the insufficiency of home. 
 
 To the dismay of Skinny and Michael, as soon 
 as they were safely at home, Kaiky began to dance 
 about in a circle on one foot. Little Skinny's nature 
 was very different from that of Michael. Questions 
 were unnecessary in a case like this. Instead of 
 annoying Kaiky with the demand for premature 
 explanations, he joined him and both danced 
 around. 
 
 "You crazy dopes," said Michael, "give us some- 
 thin' to eat, if you got it." 
 
 "You'd be crazy, too, if you had what I have." 
 He gathered the two comrades about him closely 
 and revealed a shining half dollar. 
 
 Michael was delighted, and his starving eyes 
 almost looked a hole through it. "Stop your danc- 
 in' an' give it to me, and I'll go and get somethin' 
 for it." 
 
 Kaiky gave it to him willingly, adding, "Don't 
 spend more'n half of it." 
 
 Michael soon returned with bologna, cheese, and 
 black bread, wrapped in a newspaper, the advertise- 
 ments of which protruded before and after his right 
 arm ; but he had spent all of their money. 
 
 Such a feast! They ate or rather devoured, the 
 whole supply, and sat down for a few after-dinner 
 thoughts. Kaiky listened to Michael's hard luck
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 27 
 
 story as attentively as Skinny did, but not with as 
 much interest, for his mind was too much occupied 
 with a something he felt distinctly his own. A new 
 world was opening up to him. He, Kaiky, the boy 
 of occasional pennies, was to become a man with 
 half dollars. And why not dollars? A new world, 
 indeed, was opening up to him now with the birth 
 of this new ability. Like the sculptor, the poet, the 
 composer, or the inventor, he too had discovered in 
 himself a great power, and like them, he was in- 
 spired to greater hopes. H» re was a something, 
 which he unconsciously felt, thai everybody was 
 struggling for, a something the lack of which gave 
 him his rags and yellow face, and so often, this 
 hunger for bologna and bread. To him this new 
 ability brought that something, and might bring it 
 in greater quantities; for not all ladies have only a 
 fifty-cent piece in their pocket-books. There would 
 be plenty of bread and bologna, and even soda- 
 water. 
 
 Skinny, who had pocketed two sweet potatoes 
 and an apple, had eaten so much he wasn't feeling 
 just right, and lay stomach down upon a rock, with 
 an air of, "It'll soon be over." He thought of Kaiky's 
 luck, when his stomach allowed him to, and won- 
 dered how he'd fare should he try it. 
 
 Michael thought very deeply. If instead of all 
 the old apples, he too had taken half dollar pieces, 
 he would now have enough to run away with suc- 
 cessfully. It bothered him. He finally worked off 
 some of his emotion by kicking a stone near his 
 foot, and started up. 
 
 "Where goin', Mike?" asked Kaiky.
 
 28 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I got t' go home," answered Mike, hiding his 
 emotions. "I'll be back in a few minutes — just 
 show her that I was in school all day, that's all. 
 Wait, will you, fellows?" 
 
 As soon as Michael was gone, Kaiky suspecting 
 Mike of more than going home, asked Skinny to 
 remain at camp, while he, too, was gone for a min- 
 ute. 
 
 "No," pleaded Skinny, "let me go with you." 
 
 After some arguing, Kaiky, thinking him very 
 ungrateful considering all the bologna and bread 
 he had so generously distributed, struck him with 
 his fist and left in disgust. 
 
 It was just as Kaiky had thought. Mike had not 
 gone home. He was out tryin' his luck. Kaiky saw 
 him too. "But he won't make more'n me," he 
 thought, "I'll go on the other street an' make much 
 more." 
 
 Kaiky's home was two blocks north of Michael's, 
 and consisted of but one room more, though, besides 
 his mother and invalid father, it housed seven chil- 
 dren. His father was a consumptive tailor, and his 
 mother did most of the supporting of the family. 
 Kaiky was the oldest, and Mrs. Kenen had six small 
 children to attend to after her daily washing of 
 clothes. Kaiky was glad to be out of her reach get- 
 ting his share of the race's experience on the streets, 
 and Mrs. Kenen was glad to be relieved of his both- 
 ering her. You can get neither apples nor sweet po- 
 tatoes in school. Kaiky attended to his profession 
 until the truant officer collared him and brought him 
 to school, where he made life miserable for his teach- 
 er for half a day and kept out of the truant officer's 
 reach for another period.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 29 
 
 Skinny was the only child of a poor old couple 
 who lived on the same street, He had had eight 
 brothers and sisters, all of whom died a few weeks 
 after birth. He alone — cursed as he was by heredity 
 and environment — survived as a flickering spark of 
 joy to his prematurely old parents. The father con- 
 tributed to the sickly family's support by turning 
 their bedroom into a vest shop, and the mother, be- 
 sides keeping the poverty-stricken home immacu- 
 late, knitted stockings and shawls. He was the only 
 one of all their children who lived through his baby- 
 hood, and they loved him into waywardness. They 
 were unable to clothe or feed him sufficiently, so 
 they yielded to all his other whims. As far as school 
 was concerned, he had his physical appearance in 
 his favor. He looked sicklv. What teacher would 
 refuse to accept an excuse of sickness for his ab- 
 sence? 
 
 In the afternoon of the next day, they met again 
 under the rusty tin — at camp. But there was no 
 dancing on one leg then. All Kaiky had was one 
 apple and a small sweet potato; Michael had the 
 excuse that now before the trial he didn't dare to 
 steal; and Skinny had his yellow sickly face and a 
 great desire. 
 
 Kaiky roasted his sweet potato to a crisp and 
 divided it into three parts, giving the smallest two 
 to his comrades. The apple he shared in about the 
 same way — a small piece for Mike and a promise 
 of the core to Skinny, who sat and eagerly watched 
 it. That not being enough to satisfy the hunger of 
 growing youngsters, they made for their respective 
 homes with faint hopes of finding more.
 
 30 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Michael knew too well that there was very little 
 to be found in his mother's terrible kitchen, and de- 
 cided, before he got there, to remain on the street 
 and look out for what might turn up there. Quiet- 
 ly and innocently he wended his way until he fell 
 into a market street. An innumerable lot of men 
 and women yelled like beasts, advertising their 
 wares. Such ugly-looking men and women, dis- 
 figured by a strange duty, insatiable desires and 
 misery had constituted Michael's environment since 
 the first day his mind awoke and he could see and 
 think. These therefore made no impressions upon 
 him other than as being the owners of the good 
 things he craved; and for this he hated them. 
 
 An old crippled woman was squatted on the curb 
 before him, watching carefully over a heap of bad- 
 looking cakes. "Gee! They look good," thought 
 Michael. He was about to take advantage of her 
 when his large blue eyes caught sight of another 
 woman's pocket-book. A sudden overwhelming 
 desire seized him. She wasn't looking! He gave 
 one pull, and it was all over with him. The furious 
 woman whirled about, grabbed the ill-looking 
 youngster, and hung on, yelling frightfully. A po- 
 liceman arrived, dispersed a part of the crowd, and 
 with poor Michael disappeared.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A TURN IN THE ROAD 
 
 The judge was impatient. Sitting in judgment 
 upon case after case of little offenders day after day, 
 is surely not a very good means for developing pa- 
 tience in any one. They were so similar, too — so 
 monotonous. Stealing, forgiveness, and probation, 
 and stealing all over again. Michael's name was 
 erased from the city's directory, with a wave of the 
 hand — "to the reformatory!" The catastrophe he 
 had feared had come upon him, and it was not his 
 fault either. Surely he hadn't had many chances; 
 at any rate he had hoped for many more. "But it's 
 all over now," he thought. "What could a fellow 
 like me do?" 
 
 His home was bad. He knew that. But in his 
 dwarfed little mind home stood for the known. 
 Whatever kind of a place the reformatory might be, 
 whether it was true that they beat offenders there 
 three times a day, and once before going to bed, or 
 not, it was the unknown to him. Even with grown- 
 ups, given an equal number of terrors in both the 
 known and the unknown, isn't the ratio of dread 
 one to two? 
 
 What a week of horrible anticipation it was, the 
 week he spent in the home of the Gerry Society. 
 Why didn't they send him right there and settle it? 
 One week to ponder over the loss of home, good or 
 bad, and the weight of such an uncertainty as to 
 what the reformatory might be into which a fellow 
 was to be thrown for a very great part of his life,
 
 32 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 if not for the rest of it. That week made an old man 
 of him. It was the turn in his road. His limbs, 
 bound by the walls of a room and a guard, gave up, 
 and the little mind alone was left to struggle, to 
 fight it out. 
 
 A great change had come upon him by the end 
 of that week — a sort of passage from youth, bad as 
 that was, to old age. There came a queer awaken- 
 ing to feelings he had not been conscious of before; 
 a melancholy expression set in upon his face, and 
 he grew more ugly than ever; his eyes more sad, 
 as if they had wept themselves dry, and the tears 
 that had fallen had left their traces there. His par- 
 adoxically fat mother came to see him and cried very 
 much and bitterly, and with this superabundance 
 of tears and emotion, was more like a mother than 
 she had ever been; and her ugly frightened little 
 animal, almost wrecked by fear, felt her new-born 
 tenderness, respected it out of mystery, and regret- 
 ted leaving it. Old scenes were fading from the 
 screen before him. All the painful hardness, the 
 sharp-cornered table, and the unclean bed, melted 
 into a soft gray past, and the new scenes in the dis- 
 tance became the realities to be feared and baf- 
 fled. 
 
 Michael rode in a train with the probation offi- 
 cer, whose hand, whether off or on his shoulder, 
 he ever felt. Not a word passed between them — ■ 
 one read a newspaper and occasionally laughed to 
 startle the other, who looked and thought. 
 
 The train stopped. The probation officer, out 
 of habit, took his hat, descended the car-steps to the 
 almost deserted platform of the little country sta- 
 tion of Abolt, and took the crooked path into the
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 33 
 
 woods and up the hill ; while Michael, bound to him, 
 followed. 
 
 The quiet little town, a few happy, well-dressed 
 children on its streets, the woods, a little fellow with 
 a dinner pail, whom they met on the footway — these 
 fascinated Michael till he almost forgot his troubles. 
 Such sweet air, such fragrance, such color, and so 
 many trees were unknown to his experience. The 
 woods ended half way down the other side of the 
 hill. From there a valley fell away below, then 
 rose up again to form another hill, on top of 
 which he beheld a cluster of brick buildings with 
 two rows of very beautiful concrete cottages spread- 
 ing away to the right and left. 
 
 Eager to see all of it, and yet afraid of the con- 
 sequences, he followed the officer down into the val- 
 ley and up the hill again. Another strip of woods 
 withheld the reformatory grounds from their view, 
 but when this was passed and they found them- 
 selves on the miniature plateau which belonged to 
 the reformatory, Michael was overwhelmed by the 
 sight. His experience had encompassed nothing 
 more than dirty streets and tenements and a small 
 park or two. From the center of a circular plot of 
 grass there rose up into the air a flag-pole. Near it 
 stood a small boy in canvas clothes holding a bugle 
 under his right arm. Just as Michael came fully 
 upon the grounds, the boy placed the bugle to his 
 lips and blew a dozen strong and happy notes, which 
 gaily shot into the air like a skyrocket and broke 
 into the metallic stars, and echoed from hill to hill, 
 filling his little soul with wonder and hope. 
 
 Neat, clean roadways, with curved pebbled sur- 
 faces, lined with whitewashed stones, ran from cot-
 
 34 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 tage to cottage, and met in the center of the grounds, 
 circulating about the flag-pole and leading to the 
 school and administration building. 
 
 The wonderfully colored hills, the fragrance 
 everywhere, the beautiful cottages, the homes of the 
 little sinners, the robust bugle boy, and the general 
 spirit on the place, produced hopes in Michael that 
 he had never dreamt of — his hands might be washed, 
 his dirty clothes made clean, and the fear and un- 
 certainty of living might leave him — he smelled such 
 lovely things from the kitchen. 
 
 Over the door of the school and administration 
 building, carved on an oblong-shaped stone slab, 
 were the words, "Abolt School." He was glad to 
 notice the absence of the word reformatory of which 
 he was afraid. 
 
 He was taken into the first room of the office, 
 and stood up against the wall to await further or- 
 ders and demands. The probation officer then passed 
 within. The room in which Michael had been left 
 standing was occupied by a number of desks, on one 
 of which he could see a typewriter used by a queer- 
 looking young lady, who sat half way upon it; and, 
 on a very high stool near a second desk built into 
 a partition, he could see an even queerer looking 
 young man, bent over a day-book, and dangling his 
 legs. These individuals might have been part of 
 the furniture, so little interest did they evince in 
 either the new boy or the probation officer — this was 
 a way they had of showing their dignity. Extreme- 
 ly different as these two were in general, they were 
 very much alike — especially in being queer, and 
 Michael eyed them with many kinds of interest.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 35 
 
 The door suddenly opened and the little bugle 
 boy, carrying his bugle under his right arm, entered 
 the room. He put his bugle into a drawer near the 
 bookkeeper's feet and was about to turn away, when 
 the queer-looking official turning about a silly-look- 
 ing face, abnormally long ears, and an equally long- 
 mouth; stuck his pen into a tuft of light brown hair 
 between one of the long ears and his head; and, 
 without saying a word, grabbed the bugle boy by 
 his coat sleeve with one hand, and with the other 
 pointed to a piece of paper that had fallen from his 
 august hand. The boy quickly picked up the piece 
 of paper, handed it to him, and being released walked 
 to the typewriter's desk. 
 
 The typewriter lady wore a collar that seemed to 
 choke her, a belt that was almost cutting her figure 
 in two, very stiff cuffs, and tight shoes with high 
 heels. Her hair was slightly gray, and her face, be- 
 ginning to wrinkle, sparkled with dignity. She rose, 
 gave the bugle boy her seat at the typewriter, and 
 took a chair at another desk nearer to Michael. 
 
 "Well," began the queer-looking typewriter lady, 
 after Michael had begun to fear that he was to stand 
 in that position for the rest of his life, and with a 
 twist of her half gray head upwards and a religious 
 glance downwards, she added, "come here." 
 
 Michael surmised that he was wanted. 
 
 "Your name?" 
 
 Michael thought a moment, then hastily replied, 
 •Mike Roate." 
 
 "Mike? Michael you mean. Your father's 
 name?" 
 
 "I ain't got no father."
 
 36 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Ain't got no father!" she repeated. "What Eng- 
 lish expression!" Then, as Michael began to pass 
 his hat nervously from hand to hand, she began 
 again, "What's your mother's name?" 
 
 This time he was stuck for sure, but a sudden 
 thought dawned upon him. "Mrs. Roate." 
 
 "Missus! Hasn't she got more of a name than 
 that?" 
 
 A number of feminine names came to his mind 
 and he hurriedly made use of the first, "Mrs. Mary 
 Roate." 
 
 Several other questions, such as, "Where do you 
 live?" "How old are you?" "How many times ar- 
 rested?" "What for?" and so forth, followed. When 
 through with these he was returned to the wall. 
 
 "Jacque," said Miss Trunch, the typewriter lady, 
 to the bugle boy, "take this boy to quarantine." 
 
 The two boys left the office. Jack ran down the 
 stairway and through the corridors so nimbly that 
 poor Michael had a hard time following him. A 
 few small clouds had come up on the sky from the 
 east, and a wind had arisen to make the woods (on 
 the other side of the reformatory hill) moan and 
 bend. They were now in a court yard, and he could 
 see the woods, the valley, and another hill beyond 
 that, and the cottage or hospital he was going to, a 
 few rods off. It was set apart from all the other 
 cottages, was surrounded by flower beds, and was 
 made of a very rough-looking concrete. 
 
 "That's where vou're goin' to," said Jack. 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Hospital." 
 
 "Hospital?" 
 
 "Yes, where they cut you up."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 37 
 
 "Gwan— no!" 
 
 "Sure. Don't believe it then." 
 
 Michael drew back. "Quit your kiddin', is that 
 honest — where they beat you?" 
 
 "Beat you!" then, lowering his voice, "they beat 
 you all over here." 
 
 Michael trembled. "Do they beat you hard?" 
 
 "What's the use of bein' afraid, you cheeser!" 
 
 They came upon the dreaded cottage. Jack, with 
 the air of a man born to his trade, rang the bell 
 twice, called out, "One for quarantine," and with 
 remarkable friskiness, slapped everything within 
 reach and disappeared. Another boy took charge 
 of "One for quarantine," and took him inside. 
 
 The smell of chemicals was not pleasant, but the 
 sight of the nurse, dressed in white, bubbling over 
 with authority and conceit, was infinitely worse. 
 
 "Don't you know enough to salute your super- 
 iors?" he demanded, with an English accent, glanc- 
 ing at him severely with small piggish eyes. 
 
 Michael didn't know enough, and what was 
 worse, he was one of those unfortunate creatures 
 who, in spite of their lowly positions in life, dare 
 by a peculiar expression on the face to resent ill 
 treatment or what they consider such. Michael, 
 full of fear, involuntarily frowned. 
 
 With a rough jerk this way and that, he was 
 taught how to salute, but now he was certain he 
 hated this fellow, and the frown grew more dark — 
 unfortunately for him. 
 
 "Wait 'ere a moment," said Mr. Sarving with a 
 twinkle of one eye, "I think you need a trimming 
 up."
 
 38 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 He soon came back with a forty ounce bottle 
 labeled, "Loafer's Mixture," and pouring out a good 
 sized dose in a glass, handed it to Michael saying, 
 with graceful irony, " 'Ave a little to the good luck 
 of your new home." 
 
 Michael accepted the glass with unsteady hands 
 and attempted to do as he was being forced to, but 
 as the glass neared his nostrils, the horrible smell 
 almost knocked him over. He pulled his head back- 
 ward and began to cry, probably more because of 
 his anger than weakness. 
 
 " 'Ere, sir, you drink every bit of that down, or 
 I'll rake the skin right off of you."* 
 
 He grabbed the glass tighter, and with maddened 
 effort, dashed the contents down his throat. Oh, 
 how his stomach revolted at the stuff — he felt very 
 bad — dreadfully bad. Before he had time to get to 
 the pail he had noticed in the corner, all that his 
 stomach contained shot from his mouth upon the 
 floor in a horrible stream. 
 
 "See 'ere," said Mr. Sarving, a little frightened, 
 but hiding his fears with a stamp of his foot, "you 
 take this pail and this mop and you clean up every 
 bit of that — not a speck is to be left." 
 
 " 'Ay there, Billy," he began again, addressing 
 himself to the hospital boy, when Michael showed 
 signs of recovery, "cut the 'air off this kid," then, 
 turning to Michael, "when he gets through with 
 you, when 'e gets all your 'air off, go to that basin 
 and with plenty of soap and water wash your 'ead 
 till you've killed all the animals in it." 
 
 •A number of people are ready to testify at any time to 
 the existence of such a chemical combination and to its 
 having been used for such purposes.
 
 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 39 
 
 There were six boys in quarantine, and they ate 
 their dinner on their laps on the floor of a side 
 room. The dinners consisted of some meat, ab- 
 normally brown gravy and two sandwiches of 
 black bread and ruby red jelly, served on tin plates; 
 and sitting on that floor with the pewter plate on 
 his lap, Michael for one, thought that meal good. 
 
 Through with their repast, Mr. Sarving ordered 
 a general cleaning up. To let a new boy go with 
 the minimum of instruction was against his peda- 
 gogical principles. " 'Ere, 'ere," kept coming in and 
 out. "Come back, sir; take this cloth again, sir, — 
 this isn't what we call clean, out 'ere, sir." 
 
 Michael was engaged in polishing up Mr. Sail- 
 ing's bass horn in a room on the second floor, when 
 the bell rang startlingly. Manuel, the hospital boy, 
 gradually acquiring the characteristics of his super- 
 ior, having noticed through the window that the 
 bell had been rung by two boys and not by an im- 
 portant official or visitor, took his time in closing 
 the novel the nurse had loaned him, stretched as far 
 as his arms would reach, and step by step made his 
 way to the door. He opened it to admit a large boy 
 hanging on to a blood-covered smaller one. Mr. 
 Sarving, when informed, took his time in appear- 
 ing, while the little fellow, his face petrified into a 
 terrified frown, hung on with both hands to his 
 head, on the other side of which could have been 
 seen a deep gash surrounded by blood-soaked hair. 
 
 "What'd you do, 'ay? You'll be frisky, Moses, 
 will you?" 
 
 "I fell," muttered Moses. 
 
 "Fell, 'ay! None of that lying to me. With 
 whom did you fight? 'Ay Moses?"
 
 40 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Colonel Reilly struck him upon the head with a 
 stick," the larger boy explained. 
 
 "You 'old your mouth, sir Benedict, and talk 
 when you're talked to." 
 
 The story having been brought to a climax, Mr. 
 Sarving proceeded to wash the wound, and shaved 
 off the hair about it, while Moses rent the air with 
 his cries. Mr. Sarving then went into another room 
 and soon came back with a few semi-circular 
 needles and gut thread. At sight of these Moses 
 turned pale and began to stagger. Mr. Sarving shot 
 half a glassful of water into his face and down 
 his neck. Moses braced up but continued crying. 
 
 "Stop that noise," yelled Mr. Sarving, "or I'll 
 run these needles through you." And he did. 
 
 One, two, three, four stitches. Moses bellowed 
 frightfully, and Michael, upstairs, heard every bit of 
 it. Michael shivered, tears came into his eyes and 
 he determined to escape. "This is their cutting up 
 — they'll do it to me, too." He looked about. 
 
 That entire night his little brain sweated through 
 the horrors that lurk about and fill each dark corner 
 of a blood-smeared slaughter-house, and only when 
 a faint gray light dawned in the east was his sweat- 
 ing interrupted by the sweet sounds of the bugle 
 boy. 
 
 For two weeks he was shut up in the gloom of 
 that hospital, and only his having learned that that 
 was not where he was to remain forever kept him 
 from becoming desperate. At last his time for being 
 discharged from quarantine, came, and he had the 
 pleasure of beholding the woods and the beautiful 
 colors of early autumn; and a great desire possessed 
 him to be free and to run to the golden embrace of
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 41 
 
 the nature he knew little of, but instinctively 
 trusted. 
 
 The place seemed quite different to him now 
 from what it did when he had first seen it. His 
 mind was too occupied then with what might 
 happen. From conversations he had had with his 
 fellows, he learned a number of things about the 
 place and, though some of them were not very 
 pleasant to look forward to, it was now more of the 
 known and less of the unknown to him; and stand- 
 ing as he did on the main roadway of the Abolt 
 School grounds, there was an expression of resigna- 
 tion in his face. He saw that the reformatory was 
 built on a long hill in the form of a plateau, that 
 towards the east and west it sloped down into a 
 valley, and each valley climbed up again and formed 
 another hill, the western one, the more beautiful 
 of the two. It was more beautiful to him, too, for 
 it lay in the direction whence he came, and the sun 
 went down beyond it. From the woods of its 
 summit rose the towers of a monastery, and he 
 wondered what they were. 
 
 He was taken to the last of the longest row of 
 cottages. It was to be his home for a while, and he 
 liked it,
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 COTTAGE ONE, NUMBER THIRTY-THREE 
 
 Cottage one was the New Comers' cottage, and 
 locker number thirty-three was for Michael's belong- 
 ings. Mr. and Mrs. Bloate were the cottage parents. 
 
 "Michael," said Mrs. Bloate, "thirty-three is to 
 be your number — here is your locker. Gome with 
 me. I will give you your clothes. After supper I 
 will show you how to sew your number on every 
 piece and how to patch up the holes. You are to keep 
 these clothes and see that no holes get into them. 
 You will have to keep yourself clean if you want to 
 get along here. This is to be the cleanest cottage on 
 the line. Don't forget that, as soon as you see a 
 hole in any of your stockings, you must mend it." 
 
 "Yes ma'm," said Michael, with a sigh of relief, 
 and vowed in his heart that he would always do 
 just what Mrs. Bloate wanted him to do. 
 
 Papa Bloate came home from the laundry, where 
 he had been on duty, and inquired, "Where's the 
 new boy?" 
 
 "What's your name?" when Michael was 
 brought. 
 
 "Michael." 
 
 "I'm glad it's not Mikey," muttered Mr. Bloate. 
 "William," turning towards the stairway and calling 
 for his cadet, "take this fellow downstairs, drill 
 him in marching and tell him general rules. See 
 that he understands you and that he does what you 
 tell him to."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 43 
 
 Number thirty-three, like one, ten, or twenty, 
 was taken downstairs by the all-important William, 
 and impressed with his all-importance, which im- 
 pression was supported by a push, a pull, a jerk, or 
 a slang expression. "Keep your ears open," though 
 he could not have listened more attentively. "Step 
 lively," or "Get a move on you," though his nervous- 
 ness was shoving him much ahead of time. "Now 
 do what I tell you to, do you hear?" though not a 
 thing he did had any possible chance of looking as 
 though he had the slightest intention of not doing 
 so. 
 
 The first supper bugle blew. The thirty-one 
 boys lined up like little prisoners, one almost on top 
 of the other, and to the haughty orders of William, 
 marked time, bending knees into knees. One fel- 
 low was out of step, another had his cap on his right 
 shoulder when the order was for the left. William 
 stole up cat-like and administered to each a humiliat- 
 ing and painful kick. There were others treated in 
 the same manner, but not one showed a sign of re- 
 bellion, save perhaps by their burning cheeks; but 
 there was no one there to read that as a sign of re- 
 bellion or rebellious feelings. 
 
 Into this inhuman line destiny had worked him, 
 and he took his place as number thirty-three. They 
 marched down into the basement and washed. 
 They marched up again and marking time, waited 
 for a second bugle, when they marched again to 
 the flag-pole in the center, one boy almost upon the 
 other, and a cadet at the side of each cottage group, 
 singing out in a commanding monotony, "Hip, hip, 
 hip, hip," for the rest of the distance.
 
 44 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Near the flag-pole stood a tall, stout individual, 
 dressed in a blue uniform with brass buttons and 
 epaulettes, and wearing white gloves. There was 
 a significant severity written all over his flabby face, 
 and every boy knew what it meant. As each cottage 
 group approached him the order was given: "Left 
 hand, salute!" and every left hand went up in- 
 stantly. 
 
 When each cottage group was in its place, a 
 square was formed about the flag-pole. Colonel 
 Reilly, with the air of a real general, stepped to one 
 side, and in his military voice called out: "Batta- 
 lion! At-ten-shun! Cottage one, report!" 
 
 William stepped out of his line, and with the 
 military fashion exemplified by the colonel, reported, 
 "Thirty-one present! Blickfield on the farm, Moses 
 in the hospital." 
 
 "Cottage two, report!" 
 
 "Twenty-nine present. Schaefer in the coop, 
 Marlberg in the dining-room." 
 
 Cottage after cottage was ordered to report and 
 each time Michael heard the word coop, he wonder- 
 ed. Serving room, farm, or kitchen he could well 
 make out, but "coop" worried him. Besides an 
 almost audible feeling passed from boy to boy along 
 the lines every time the word was mentioned. 
 
 Two boys loosened the ropes on the flag-pole, 
 and the Colonel ordered "Caps off!" 
 
 Then the bugle began to blow. Michael stood 
 facing the monastery on the western hill. He knew 
 very little about western evening skies, but circum- 
 stances now allowed nature to teach him about it, 
 and he began to feel. 
 
 The flag was lowered.
 
 Urn 
 Mi 
 - - III 
 
 II 
 
 ' I 
 IP 
 
 ' T r TTH Trn M_^ _ 
 

 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 45 
 
 "Gaps— on!" 
 
 "Battalion — to the right — march!" 
 
 To the measured rhythm of the drum beat, filling 
 the air with noise, and the fearful commanding 
 "hip, hip, hip," three hundred pairs of little feet 
 ground the pebbles on the walk, leading to the 
 dining-room. 
 
 The Colonel stood, a statue of Hercules, at the 
 head of the few cement steps leading to the ivy- 
 covered dining room and, as the boys hipped by, he 
 was saluted. 
 
 The dining-room was extremely long, and con- 
 sisted of two rows of alcoves, each alcove containing 
 a long table surrounded by thirty or more chairs, 
 to seat all the boys of a single cottage. 
 
 Every one entered and remained standing back 
 of his own chair. The Colonel held a small bell, 
 which he rang when the room was silent. A small 
 boy came out upon the center of the floor and 
 hurried through a formal prayer. The bell rang 
 again, and three hundred chairs were pulled out and 
 made use of. A sound like that of Niagara poured 
 out of the alcoves into the center of the room. Plates 
 clashed upon plates, and knives and forks upon 
 knives and forks and on the floor. What stories 
 were told! What discussions held forth! Each 
 wrinkled brow held something that had to be given 
 out, and all talked at the same time. 
 
 A short half hour passed by; the Niagara of 
 sound was hushed by another touch of the little 
 bell. Every boy was on his feet — cap on shoulder. 
 
 Another boy stepped out upon the center of the 
 floor and rushed through a short formal grace, the 
 same that had been used for an endless number of
 
 46 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 days before. The Colonel detailed different boys to 
 different duties, and the rest in military order 
 marched out, on their way to their respective 
 cottages. 
 
 The moment the playground back of each cot- 
 tage was reached, the lines were broken, and each 
 youngster let loose in his own way. Some ran, some 
 jumped, some threw stones, some merely stretched 
 and rolled over on the ground, some stood on their 
 heads, while a few sat down to read books carried in 
 their blouses. Michael ran around a bit, just to get 
 rid of the cramped feeling, then sat down near Wil- 
 liam, whom he respected and disliked at the same 
 time, to look out over the valley, upon the hill, the 
 monastery, the soft floating clouds, and the red sky. 
 William sat with a long stick in his hands. He 
 watched the boys and beat the ground with his stick. 
 
 "Got all your clothes?" asked William. 
 
 "Just what I got on," said Michael. 
 
 "You got to get more. You'll get them to-mor- 
 row, I guess." 
 
 There was something warm and friendly in Wil- 
 liam's attitude, although he did look away as he 
 talked, and had a kind of habitual frown upon his 
 face; and Michael, his heart filling with gratitude, 
 felt himself invited to talk. 
 
 "You here long?" he wanted to know. 
 
 "More than my time, but they won't let me go, 
 because they can make use of me. If they don't 
 let me go soon I'll run away — don't snitch on me 
 now." 
 
 "Cross my heart — never," said Michael, full of 
 emotion, "I'd like to run away myself." 
 
 "Don't, it's better not to. They only catch you
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 47 
 
 anyway— an' it's worse. You got to take your lick- 
 in' an' go to the coop for two weeks. The best 
 thing," shaking his head, "you do as they tell you 
 to, try hard, live through the two years and get away 
 as quick as you can. Take my advice, don't try to 
 get any jobs — if you make good they never let you 
 go. I do more than a cottage father here. Why 
 should they let me go? But I'm going to go anyway 
 — I'll make them let me go." 
 
 "Is Bloate good to you?" asked Michael. 
 
 "Naw — he's good to me because I help him a 
 lot — but the fellows hate him. I wish I was out of 
 here. Wait till you're here a little, and old man 
 Bloate comes in from his day off, drunk. Take my 
 advice, do what he tells you, if it's to eat dirt — you'll 
 be better off." 
 
 It grew dark. The monastery and the woods be- 
 came one, and the red in the sky grew into a gray- 
 ish blue. William announced it was time to turn 
 in, and every one of them filed into the basement 
 which was now all lit up. 
 
 "I told you to sew your initials on all your 
 clothes, didn't I?" said Mrs. Bloate to Michael, as 
 soon as she saw him. 
 
 Michael was about to say that he thought she 
 meant when they all went in, but he thought it saf- 
 er to take what's coming and say nothing, so he 
 merely hung his head. 
 
 "I'm afraid you're one of those lazy fellows," 
 went on Mrs. Bloate. "You'd better get over that 
 quick, or it'll go hard with you here." 
 
 He followed her meekly into the sewing room, 
 and sewed away as hard and fast as he could, mak- 
 ing poor looking initials and figures on every piece
 
 48 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 of clothes that was to belong to him. "If I don't 
 dare to answer you that I am not lazy, I will show 
 it to you," thought he to himself. 
 
 "It's almost time to go to bed," said Mrs. Bloate 
 when he was through. "Go down to the basement 
 where the rest of the boys are." 
 
 Down stairs he found many of them noisily 
 jumping about, playing, fighting, and telling stor- 
 ies, but no sooner had he gotten down there than the 
 order was given to "fall in." Every boy fell into line 
 immediately and, upon a second command, bent 
 down to unlace his shoes and take them off. Anoth- 
 er military command, and there, with caps and 
 shoes in hand, they stood with stockinged feet upon 
 the cement floor, saying their prayers in regular, 
 monotonous, suppressed voices — thirty-two of them. 
 Their prayers said, they marched into the other 
 room of the basement, where they washed, marched 
 up stairs to their lockers to put their clothes away, 
 and filed into the dormitories each to his own little 
 bed. 
 
 By this time the grounds were deserted, not one 
 pair of little feet was upon the gravel walks. Every 
 one of the dozen dormitories was aglow with light, 
 and their windows were like great eyes in the night. 
 Then one by one the eyelids drooped, the lights went 
 out; and, just as the clock in the school hallway 
 sounded the first beat of eight, one little fellow made 
 his way to the lonely flag-pole, touched the bugle to 
 his lips, sent a sweet welcome to the stars and a 
 melancholy "good night" to more than three hun- 
 dred of his comrades. When the last note of taps 
 died away in the fragrant stillness out-doors, Mich- 
 ael pulled the blanket up to his neck, placed ids
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 49 
 
 right cheek upon his right hand and went to sleep. 
 Outdoors the long gray roadways led from cottage 
 to cottage, unused, and the white stones along their 
 sides looked up to the sky and drew down what lit- 
 tle light was left there.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 UNOILED MACHINERY 
 
 Another morning dawned. Such mornings come 
 to intensify the desire to live. A perfect sky with 
 immaculately white cloudlets here and there to pre- 
 vent a trace of monotony. No mists about to mysti- 
 fy. The woods, the hills, every feature of the great 
 panorama intensely sharp and clear. The colors 
 pouring out over the universe with a sublime 
 strength, and the air, invigorating and hypnotic 
 in its fragrance, found every free man and every 
 free creature bubbling over with optimism and the 
 desire to do. Every sound that rang through the 
 valley — the playful cry of children, the barking of 
 dogs, and the farmer's call to his son across the 
 summer fallowed fields, were rounded out in the 
 atmosphere till they poured out like the notes of a 
 symphony. The bugle blew in the morning upon 
 Abolt School, and never before were children more 
 delighted with getting up and going out. Even the 
 few who had spent the night on a hard board floor 
 with iron cuffs on their bony little hands, crawled 
 up to the barred windows and pressed their little 
 faces hard against them, drank in their tiny part 
 of the atmosphere, and sent out their message of 
 gladness to melt in the open space of the universe — 
 they shouted through those bars, though they did 
 not exactly know why. 
 
 The usual commands resulted in their being 
 washed, combed and on line; and the usual "hip, 
 hip, hip," took them one close upon the other to the
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 51 
 
 flag-pole, where, towards the sky, and seemingly 
 above the golden vistas extending in every direction, 
 they sent the flag to wave. The flag up, they were 
 turned about towards the dining room, from where 
 odors of coffee came to invite them, and, soon they 
 were "hipped" in for their breakfast. 
 
 After breakfast they were marched back to the 
 playground back of the school building, and were 
 sent to their class lines, where they were to wait for 
 the school bell. Michael was sent into the office. 
 
 "Jacque!" called out Miss Trunch, the queer- 
 looking stenographer, with her eyes heavenward, 
 and her collar still choking her, "take this boy to 
 Miss Britter and tell her he is ready for school." 
 
 "What's Miss Britter?" asked Michael softly, in 
 the hallway. 
 
 "Principal." 
 
 Michael stood himself up as straight as he could 
 In Miss Britter's very narrow office, to wait with 
 several others until she should return. 
 
 "Are you a second striper, Bill?" asked Jack of 
 one of the boys standing there. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "All right, watch this fellow, will you? I have 
 to go back to the office." 
 
 Michael was hurt. "Why should I be watched?" 
 he asked himself. 
 
 But Bill paid little attention to him, and he forgot 
 tin 1 insult and, in his own way, and for his own 
 private reasons, examined everything there his eyes 
 could reach. There really was not a thing there to 
 be afraid of. No whipping machines — not even a 
 strap. The only ruler there looked very innocent 
 and unused to anything but measuring. There
 
 52 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 were papers, books, maps, a vase with flowers in 
 it, a statuette, and no stick save the window pole. 
 
 Miss Britter entered. A young woman of thirty, 
 tall and extremely neat and graceful. A stern face, 
 yet the kind that adults as well as children in- 
 stinctively trust. She was the sort of a woman that 
 can make children do just as she wants them to 
 without losing the slightest amount of their love — 
 who can talk quietly and without excitement in 
 exciting times, and who can, when she deems it 
 necessary, act the part of a little friend and play- 
 mate with remarkable interest and sincerity. 
 
 She led a dark chubby little fellow of five by the 
 hand. His large gray eyes recognized all the boys 
 standing there, and his roughened baby lips smiled 
 to them, and not one there, with the possible excep- 
 tion of the new boy, but would have gladly grabbed 
 the little fellow and run about the hall with him 
 upon his shoulder, just as they all did in the base- 
 ment playground or on the playground out of doors. 
 Miss Britter pulled out a box of clay blocks from 
 the lowest drawer in her desk and asked him to 
 build a "house" or a "bridge," then sat down in 
 her chair and began to write. 
 
 One boy after another was respectfully attended 
 to and dismissed. Michael and Billy were left. 
 
 "Ready for school, are you?" she asked Michael, 
 reading his name from a list she held before her. 
 
 "Yes, ma'm." 
 
 "Good. What grade were you in, Michael, when 
 you were in the city?" 
 
 "I was in the six B," said Michael, then adding 
 with a tone of regret, "but I don't know much. I 
 stayed away too much,"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 53 
 
 "Well, we'll work hard here, and you can make 
 up. You look like a very bright boy. I think you 
 will be one of my all 'A' boys. I'm going to send 
 you to Miss Brand's class. As soon as you show 
 me that you can do the work I will send you higher." 
 
 "William, take Michael to your class room and 
 give this note to Miss Brand. Then come back and 
 we'll talk things over." 
 
 William left with Michael following him, and 
 having done all that was asked of him, returned to 
 Miss Britter's office, where he found her writing. 
 
 "Now, William, what has happened to you so 
 early in the morning?" she asked, looking up at 
 him. 
 
 William looked over at Tony playing with his 
 blocks. 
 
 "That's right," she said again, "before we begin 
 to talk things over, take Tony back to his class room. 
 Now, listen, Tony," turning to him, "you may take 
 these blocks with you to your class room and play 
 with them there; but you musn't talk out loud — 
 that bothers your teacher and the rest of the boys. 
 Do you think you can play with them quietly?" 
 
 "Y-y-yes, ma'm," said Tony, "I'll make a b-b-big 
 house." 
 
 "Good, and when you finish it, draw a picture of 
 it for me, and I'll hang it up right over my desk — 
 here." 
 
 Tony's ambition was aroused to such an extent 
 that he fairly flew across the hall to get to his room 
 to begin. William saw that he reached home and 
 returned. 
 
 "Now, William, tell me what has happened." 
 
 "She won't have me in the room, that's all. She
 
 54 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 said so. I came into the room, didn't do a single 
 thing, and she got mad at me as soon as she saw me, 
 and said I should go out to see you." 
 
 "You mean Miss Brand?" 
 
 William saw his mistake, "Yes, ma'm." 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you walked into 
 the room, didn't do a single thing and that for that 
 Miss Brand sent you out?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'm. I'd tell you the truth if it wasn't so. 
 I always told you the truth." 
 
 "Yes, that is so, but don't you think that some- 
 thing about the way in which you walked in might 
 have been disrespectful to Miss Brand?" 
 
 "No, ma'm, I never meant it that way. I am not 
 looking for more reports. I want to go home as 
 soon as I can — my mother needs me." 
 
 "I'll tell you what I will do. You take this note 
 to Miss Brand and be very careful about the way in 
 which you walk into her room, do the very best you 
 can, and after school I will ask Miss Brand to come 
 down here and you can explain before her. We 
 will see what the trouble has been and try to settle 
 it quietly together." 
 
 Miss Britter had been busily at work upon the 
 revision of the curriculum, about half an hour after 
 William had left her alone in the office, when she 
 was startled by the gruff voice of the Colonel saying, 
 "Hospital list," sticking his white gloved hand in at 
 the door holding the hospital list, and apparently 
 interested in something going on at the other end of 
 the hall. 
 
 Miss Britter rose to take the list from him, and as 
 he started off, called out, "Just a minute, Mr. Reilly."
 
 A BUiNGH OF LITTLE THIEVES 55 
 
 She returned to her seat at the desk and he stuck 
 his angry face in at the doorway. "Well?'' 
 
 "Will you tell me, please, why Moses is still in 
 the hospital?" 
 
 "That's none of my affairs, Mr. Sarving's got the 
 run of that." 
 
 "What is the matter with him?" 
 
 "I can't tell you that either — I don't know." 
 
 "Well now, Colonel, Moses has got to come back, 
 or I'll know why he is there. It's about time that 
 this keeping of boys out of school for mysterious 
 reasons is stopped." 
 
 "You know whom to see about that." 
 
 "Where is Brown?" 
 
 "Brown is in the coop." 
 
 "What has he done?" 
 
 "Struck back at a superior." 
 
 "And Lane?" 
 
 "The same." 
 
 "Where is Schaefer?" 
 
 "Run away. He's now serving in the coop. 
 Two weeks." 
 
 The Colonel impatiently left, and Miss Britter 
 went back at her work, but didn't work very long. 
 She grabbed a sheet of paper and began putting- 
 down a whole list of grievances, then got up and 
 made for the superintendent's office. 
 
 She came into the room where Michael had stood 
 against the wall the first few hours after his arrival. 
 
 "Mr. Lapin, please tell Superintendent Krammer 
 I would like to see him for a few minutes." 
 
 Mr. Lapin, the queer-looking bookkeeper, raised 
 his golden head, the ears of which, at obtuse angles, 
 shot away from his crop of hair, with a grin that
 
 56 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 made still longer his abnormally long mouth, smiled 
 and said slowly and sweetly, "Mr. Krammer is 
 busy." 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "The Colonel just went in." 
 
 Miss Britter left the office and returned half an 
 hour later. "Tell Mr. Krammer I would like to see 
 him," she said again. 
 
 "If he isn't busy," with the grin repeated. 
 
 Miss Britter looked at him a moment with 
 disgust. "Please be kind enough to attend to your 
 business, and tell Mr. Krammer that I wish to see 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Lapin then announced Miss Britter, and Mr. 
 Krammer asked her to come in. 
 
 Mr. Krammer, well fed and bearded, bearded for 
 a purpose, sat in his lordly seat before a large desk 
 at one end of his spacious private offices, the walls 
 of which were hung with pictures of the reforma- 
 tory buildings, and in the center of which stood a 
 long library table, surrounded by chairs. 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Britter," said Mr. Kram- 
 mer, pleasantly. Mr. Krammer's facial expression 
 always betrayed the control of two forces — bitter 
 feelings lurking out of fiery eyeballs, and a reddish 
 face that usually contorted itself into diplomatic 
 good humor. Often the first would dominate. Then 
 his face would turn pale, and his breath come quick 
 and a long continued throat clearing performance 
 would follow. 
 
 Miss Britter calmly took one of the chairs about 
 the library table, brought it near to his desk, and sat 
 down. Mr. Krammer leaned back in his chair and 
 clasped his hands.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 57 
 
 "Mr. Krammer," she began, "I wish to speak to 
 you about many things." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "First, my ninth grade is in need of classics." 
 
 "More books!" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Krammer, we must have them." 
 
 Mr. Krammer began to clear his throat. "We 
 have spent too much on books already. Since you 
 came here, Miss Britter, we have spent altogether too 
 much on books — too much entirely." 
 
 "There were no books here when I came — we 
 had to buy very many, of course; and we haven't 
 enough yet." 
 
 "There were enough to my notion. When I was 
 a boy and went to one of those rickety old school 
 houses," Mr. Krammer's fiery eyes softened down 
 and he smiled sweetly, "the teacher was the only 
 possessor of text books. Every lesson was written 
 on the blackboard and we copied it." 
 
 "Then you believe we ought to go back to rickety 
 old buildings?" 
 
 "No, not at all ! That's not my idea, Miss Britter. 
 I am a great believer in being thankful for what 
 one's got. No, Miss Britter, you mean well, but you 
 know, you are giving them too much education. 
 What they need to know is how to work and to 
 work willingly and obey their superiors. Most of 
 them will do much better as carpenters and shoe- 
 makers than college graduates. You must admit 
 that." 
 
 "Mr. Krammer, you boasted of having a high 
 school class in your last annual report, didn't you?" 
 
 "For some of the boys we might have one, if it 
 doesn't interfere with more important things."
 
 58 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "But we are not classifying the boys just now, 
 nor are we considering any complaints against it. 
 We have a high school class — what sort of a thing 
 ie it going to be?" 
 
 "They have all the other books they need, can't 
 the classic be put on the board?" 
 
 "Evangeline on the board? Surely you don't 
 want to pay your teachers for writing Evangeline 
 on the board — it would take a month." 
 
 "What will Evangeline cost? How manv do you 
 need?" 
 
 "We need thirty copies." 
 
 "Can't we buy fifteen and make two of them use 
 one?" 
 
 "It makes it very hard. Besides they have the 
 chance of laying all the blame of misuse on the 
 other fellow. I think it would be more economical 
 to buy thirty copies." 
 
 "Well, send in your requisition to Mr. Lapin." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Krammer, this brings me to another 
 matter." 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "I'm afraid that it's impossible for Mr. Kurt to 
 do anything with that High School class. He has 
 no discipline at all and knows nothing about teach- 
 ing, which is really the cause of the latter." 
 
 "What these boys need is a little handling by a 
 bigger power. You won't admit that. I think I'll 
 send Colonel Reilly in and have him attend to them." 
 
 "But it is not the boys' fault, it is the fault of the 
 man. Why punish them? He is absolutely unfit. 
 Besides, Mr. Krammer, I thought we agreed that Mr. 
 Reilly is to have nothing to do with the school. 
 You admitted to me the other day that he is an ignor-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 59 
 
 ant army officer. I cannot and will not share the 
 responsibility of this school with an ignorant army 
 officer." 
 
 "Well, I thought in a case like this, where the 
 boys are rebellious, a man like the Colonel would 
 be of service to you." 
 
 "But I insist it is not the boys' fault. It's Mr. 
 Kurt who needs to be attended to. The other day 
 I came into the class room and found him arguing 
 with a boy near his desk on baseball championship, 
 while the rest of the class were piled up in a corner, 
 reading a newspaper. Suppose one of the Board 
 of Directors should suddenly step in?" 
 
 The last sentence was the most convincing of all, 
 and touching a weak spot in the superintendent's 
 policies. Mr. Krammer stroked his pointed beard 
 and glanced sidewise. "Would you have me sus- 
 pend him at once?" 
 
 "You might just as well for all the good his re- 
 maining here will do; but we must have another 
 teacher soon." 
 
 "All right," making a note of it, "I will fire him 
 today, and when in the city to-morrow I will look 
 up a few teachers' agencies." 
 
 Miss Britter looked down the list of things to 
 talk about which she had brought with her. "Oh, 
 yes," she began, "has Mr. Sarving the right to keep 
 any boy he wishes and as long as he pleases at that 
 mysterious hospital of his?" 
 
 Mr. Krammer turned pale, and began to cough. 
 
 "Boys are kept out of school continually," she 
 went on, "and the only excuse I get is that they are 
 in the hospital."
 
 60 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "No boy is sent to the hospital unless he has to 
 go there." 
 
 "I know that boys go there mysteriously and stay 
 there mysteriously, and then come and complain to 
 me. The man knows nothing about medicine, 
 claiming nothing more than the certificate as an 
 orderly in a Turkish bath house, and he doses those, 
 boys with awful mixtures. He is a secluded sort of 
 a fellow and is never seen outside of the hospital." 
 
 "Miss Britter, this whole affair is not in your 
 province." 
 
 "I don't see why not, Mr. Krammer, when boys 
 coming back from Mr. Sarving's den, who have 
 never had anything but respect for me and for the 
 teachers, are suddenly found uncontrollable and in- 
 sulting, and, what is worse, filthy minded. Isn't 
 that in my province?" 
 
 "You should tell me this, that's right. I will 
 attend to it. I will look into the matter closely." 
 Mr. Krammer took his handy little pad and began 
 to write. "Thank you for telling me. I will in- 
 vestigate." 
 
 Miss Britter left the office. When she reached 
 the hallway she found it was eleven-thirty, and time 
 for noon dismissal bells. A few minutes later the 
 hallways were filled with boys on their way out, 
 
 She straightened everything on her desk, took 
 her wraps, locked her office door and stood in the 
 hallway waiting. 
 
 A class-room door opened and a young man of 
 about twenty-two was concluding the admonishing 
 of his class for misbehavior; then, finally satisfied 
 with the line they made, sent them out. When the 
 last boy had disappeared down the stairway, he
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 61 
 
 came back with an expression of relief and smilingly 
 said, "Lost in thought?" 
 
 "Yes. Don't you want to go for a little walk, Mr. 
 Rolan?" 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 Miss Britter was in a hurry, and Mr. Rolan simply 
 followed her, so that before long they were quite a 
 distance beyond the farmhouse, and were turning 
 down a hidden road that branched off to the left. 
 
 "We musn't go too far, or we'll miss our tough 
 old meat." 
 
 "Well you like that kind of fare," said Miss 
 Britter, glad to get into that trend of discussion. 
 
 "I like it?" 
 
 "Evidently." 
 
 "How do you make that out?" 
 
 "You don't complain. You stand for it all." 
 
 "Why do vou stand for it?" 
 
 "Because I am a woman, and alone in my fight. 
 Besides, I am preparing not to stand for it. Of 
 course, there are worse things to fight against here. 
 We can go away to-night and get a good meal ; but 
 there are evil influences brought to bear upon these 
 children, which, to some extent at least, will produce 
 evil effects that will not be as easily eradicated, and 
 some of them perhaps will never be remedied." 
 
 "Well, you have realized the difficulty of chang- 
 ing matters, and are waiting for an opportunity. 
 How do you know but that I, too, have been figuring 
 things out in that way? It is useless to get up and 
 howl. I am not a giant in any one direction, I 
 admit, and therefore wait upon others. You are; 
 go ahead; I'll stand by what is right in my opinion. 
 I have seen the wrongs here a1 least, almost as clearly
 
 62 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 as you have. But I repeat, that I have said and done 
 nothing because I don't believe I can do anything 
 but get into trouble, or make matters worse if I 
 try. I have seen things done here that have made 
 my blood boil, but what could I do?" 
 
 "Mr. Rolan, you are an intelligent young man. 
 I don't know how far I may tell you what I think. 
 I must say though, since you have forced it upon me 
 in that way, that you have not resented those things 
 you speak of, and you have blandly smiled along." 
 
 "I think it's unfair for you to speak that way." 
 
 "Do I speak truthfully when I say that I have 
 seen you sit by at the table and smile when a 
 wretched cottage father told of some very clever, 
 brutal, unfair trick that he played upon some 
 youngster, unable to protect himself?" 
 
 "I know what you have reference to, and I can 
 see where you are half right. I should not have 
 encouraged Mr. Gallwin by laughing; on the other 
 hand, I am only human. You must admit that Mr. 
 Gallwin is witty — what he said struck me as funny. 
 I did not look as deeply into the matter as you did. 
 Still further, Miss Britter, what am I to do? If I 
 don't laugh with those fellows, they will immediately 
 consider me an enemy, and do everything they can 
 against me, and not a thing of importance will be 
 gained." 
 
 "You don't know anybody that would come out 
 here and make a good High School teacher, do you?" 
 
 "I know somebody that would make an excellent 
 teacher, oh, I believe the very best man that you 
 could find anywhere for this place, and he, if you 
 please, would not stand by and laugh — he'd make 
 fhings move if he got in here,"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 63 
 
 "Who is it, and why so many 'ifs'?" 
 
 "He's the kind of a fellow that never cared 
 whether it was an instructor, a student, or a pro- 
 fessor that was wrong — when he thought him wrong 
 he got up and told him so." 
 
 "But who, who is he, and where found?" 
 
 "He has a good position, and is earning probably 
 three times as much as he could earn here." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "He is a college friend of mine, who is teaching 
 in one of the city high schools. His name is 
 Edward Liton." 
 
 "Do you think it would be impossible to get him 
 to come out here?" 
 
 "I hardly think it probable, since it would mean 
 such a loss in money; but you can't tell at all with 
 him. He is the kind of a fellow that, if he were 
 interested in the work, would not consider the 
 money end of it." 
 
 "Suppose you write to him at once and ask him 
 to come to visit the school. Say that it's very im- 
 portant that he come out this Sunday." 
 
 They came upon a richly laden apple tree, and 
 Mr. Rolan, with the help of stones and half bad 
 apples, brought down a dozen good ones. 
 
 A sound of laughter startled them. Turning 
 about, they saw Nida Cane, one of the teachers, in 
 back of them, chewing away at an apple and ap- 
 parently enjoying the situation. 
 
 "Where did you come from?" 
 
 "I have been back of you since you started." 
 
 "Why didn't you speak up?" 
 
 "I didn't want to intrude; but never mind, I en- 
 joyed myself. Shall we go back?"
 
 64 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Do you care to?" asked Miss Britter. 
 
 "I don't," replied Nida, "I'd much rather feed on 
 apples than on bad meat." 
 
 "So would I," said Rolan. "To-night we can go 
 to Hilldale and have a good big dinner." 
 
 "I wish you had spoken up, Nida," said Miss 
 Britter impatiently, "now we have to tell everything 
 all over again." 
 
 "What's happened?" 
 
 "Oh, just listen. Mr. Rolan is going to get a 
 splendid fellow, a real High School teacher, to come 
 out here and teach the High School class for us." 
 
 "What are you going to do with Kurt?" asked 
 Nida. 
 
 "I have asked Krammer to discharge him, and 
 he promised to do so today." 
 
 "Poor Mr. Kurt." 
 
 "I felt that way myself — it just upset me; but 
 after all, it isn't a question of accommodating Mr. 
 Kurt with a position. The boys are at stake, and no 
 one else must be considered. He knows that he is 
 absolutely unfit for the classroom; he ought to get 
 out of his own accord, but he isn't man enough to 
 do that." 
 
 "That's true." 
 
 "Liton is a very capable fellow," began Mr. 
 Rolan. You just watch, if he comes here. The 
 moment that fellow arrives he will have a dozen 
 different propositions for the improvement of every- 
 thing he will see. And they will be propositions 
 you will be glad to consider. He won't throw them 
 on you, you know, but you will see at once that he 
 is interested and that what he proposes will really 
 be very helpful."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 65 
 
 "Great ! That's just the kind of a fellow we need 
 here. The place is splendidly equipped but there 
 is no spirit — nothing to really interest the boys." 
 
 "I guess we'd better make for home." 
 
 "What will they do with the three pieces of nine- 
 cent meat?" asked Nida. 
 
 "Give it to the bovs." 
 
 V 
 
 "Not at all," said Rolan, "they'll come back to us 
 tomorrow." 
 
 "That's right," Miss Cane assured them. "I 
 have handled the expense accounts long enough to 
 know that nine-cent meat is given to the staff, while 
 the boys grow fat on six-cent meat." 
 
 "What kind of meat does Krammer get?" 
 
 "Twenty cents a pound, if you please, for their 
 meat, and there are orders that the two different 
 kinds, that is Krammer's and the other two are not 
 to touch each other. I wasn't his confidential 
 stenographer for two years for nothing. That's 
 why he asked me to become a teacher, he hoped that 
 in a few years I'd forget some of the things he 
 wishes I didn't know."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HIS FIRST LESSON IN REFORMATION 
 
 The change of diet, the subtraction of self 
 activity and excitement from Michael's life on the 
 street, enervated him so that, with the possible ex- 
 ception of cool clear mornings, he was always 
 tired. The boys fell in on cottage lines after leaving 
 their class rooms, one day, and were taken charge 
 of by the cottage cadets and cottage fathers, who 
 marched them back to their cottages to wash up and 
 prepare for their noon hour meal. 
 
 "Get in there and wash," yelled Mr. Bloate to two 
 of them who loitered a moment to finish a short 
 conversation which they had begun as new friends. 
 One of them was Michael. The other fellow knew 
 Mr. Bloate quite well, and immediately ran into the 
 other room to do as he was told. Michael did not 
 know him at that time, and having always resented 
 humiliating orders, though not intending to show 
 open rebellion, was not so quick as Father Bloate 
 had expected him to be. 
 
 This delay, whatever the cause of it might have 
 been, was insulting to Mr. Bloate's authority. To 
 tolerate that might weaken his ability to discipline! 
 He dashed towards Michael and with full force 
 struck him upon the mouth. 
 
 Michael raved. The pain was great enough, but 
 how unfair the whole thing was. His anger reached 
 the uncontrollable point; with tears rushing down 
 his cheeks, blood on his lips, he turned about upon 
 his assailant and cried out as loud as he could, so
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 67 
 
 that every boy stopped in the process of washing 
 himself and with mingled wonder and admiration 
 gazed at him, "What did / do?" 
 
 If Father Bloate had not been afraid of this 
 demon boy, he would have jumped upon him and 
 beaten him unmercifully, but he really was afraid 
 and thought of a better way. "Is that so, Mr. 
 Roate," he began slowly and emphatically, shaking 
 his head, "is that the kind of a fellow you are? 
 We'll break that in you, you just wait." 
 
 Michael's anger subsided and he was almost 
 overcome with dread. Shivering like a leaf, he 
 washed himself, and fell into line with the rest of 
 the boys, who were waiting for the cottage ahead 
 of them to start for the dining room. 
 
 Things quieted down a little. Mr. Bloate was 
 busy. Michael sighed with relief to see him oc- 
 cupied. "It's all over now," he hoped, "I'll take care 
 next time." 
 
 But his friend knew more about Mr. Bloate and 
 was not so optimistic — he worried. "Why don't 
 you keep still?" he whispered to him, bending 
 slightly out of position to do so. 
 
 Mr. Bloate, who happened to see him, looked at 
 William, and William hurried noiselessly behind 
 that friend and kicked him as he would have called 
 it. "good and hard." 
 
 The boy's face turned red, but he never moved. 
 Mr. Bloate was satisfied that he was a right-minded 
 boy; he took his punishment like a man. But that 
 other fellow! 
 
 In this state of mind, when the order was given, 
 they went to the dining-room, to eat what they could 
 get there.
 
 68 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 The Colonel was there as ever, on the cement 
 steps. Mr. Bloate left his boys in charge of William 
 when they reached the dining-room, and walked 
 up to the Colonel, who bent his severe head a trifle 
 that the cottage father might tell his story. Michael 
 did not notice this, but his friend did. Taking the 
 advantage of the noise of many feet, he whispered 
 once more, "Don't talk back." 
 
 Mr. Reilly said "h'm" when the cottage father 
 was through, and turned his fiery orbs on Cottage 
 One and the innocent looking Michael. 
 
 The boys saluted the Colonel and were passing 
 in. Just as Michael reached the step upon which the 
 Colonel stood, the latter sent out his heavy, white 
 gloved hand, grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked 
 him out of the line, and stood him up against the 
 wall. 
 
 When all the boys had entered and taken their 
 places at the tables, the Colonel again grabbed 
 Michael by the shoulder, dragged him into the center 
 of the dining-room, where all the boys could see him, 
 and commanded, "Sit down!" 
 
 That was terrible. To sit on the floor, before all 
 the boys, and teachers and cottage parents! In the 
 hope that he might save himself the humiliation, 
 Michael pleaded, "Why?" 
 
 "Never mind why. Sit, I said." 
 
 "I won't never do it again," Michael continued, 
 the tears rolling down his cheeks. 
 
 The Colonel picked him up by both shoulders, 
 swung out his legs, bent them under him, and 
 forced him to sit down. 
 
 Michael lost his reason. The situation was un-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 69 
 
 endurable, and his suffering broke out in the form 
 of a yell, "Leave me alone!" 
 
 Age and rank had not made it impossible for the 
 Colonel to lose control of himself. Never had a boy 
 dared to breathe against his will. This fellow was 
 surely a demon; controlled by the same insanity that 
 forced Michael's unfortunate yell, he grabbed the 
 youngster, and took him out into the vestibule where 
 a hard wood flag-pole stood against the corner. 
 With that stick the Colonel beat the rebellious and 
 shrieking Michael till the blood oozed out of his 
 stockings, covered his face, and stained the floor. 
 There was no telling how this would have ended had 
 not the Colonel's wife interfered. Michael's shrieks 
 brought terror into the dining-room, where some 
 murmured and some cried; among these being some 
 of the teachers and cottage mothers, while no one 
 ate much that day. 
 
 The Colonel's wife rushed to the boy's defense. 
 She threw her arms about the madman and 
 struggled with all her strength to keep the stick 
 back. "I'll kill the bloody devil," he cried, and the 
 shrieking of the culprit died down into groans. 
 Michael was taken to the hospital, unconscious.* 
 
 That evening when Michael, attracted by the 
 sound of the drum sending the boys away from their 
 supper table, dragged his swollen legs to the little 
 window of his "coop" and peeped out, he could see 
 the burning sun lower itself behind the hill and the 
 monastery. If only he could escape, fly away to 
 the hill, and live in the lonely woods like an animal ! 
 
 •Affidavits can be produced showing that far from being 
 an exaggeration this is a mild description of an incident that 
 has actually taken place. See newspaper articles in appendix.
 
 70 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 He cursed and swore, thought of his bare, dark cell 
 and the nights he would have to spend there alone, 
 and fell to crying. 
 
 The pain increased with his moving about. The 
 bandages were too tight for swelling feet. His first 
 lesson in reformation had gone far. When he 
 crawled back to the hard board on which he was to 
 sleep, and sank into a heap upon it, he growled like 
 a wounded cub. 
 
 Footsteps approached. A key was thrust into 
 the keyhole. Who was coming now? What fur- 
 ther torture? He feigned sleep, digging his wet 
 face into his two arms. 
 
 The intruder had come with food. Michael 
 could smell the coffee. He felt a gentle touch on his 
 arm. He shut his eyes tighter. He was touched 
 again, but he only growled as if in painful sleep. 
 The man had a heart. He set the coffee and bread 
 down upon a board made for the purpose, and 
 quietly left, turning the key again. 
 
 Taps wailed through the moonlit valley that 
 evening. Deep into the night, while cottage father 
 Bloate slept soundly, the boys in the dormitories of 
 Cottage One could hear a faint melancholy groaning 
 from the cell above them, and long after the lights 
 of the institution had been turned off, a weak candle 
 light could have been seen in the teacher's room of 
 the adjacent cottage, sending meek radiance through 
 a long drawn window blind, upon which nervous 
 shadows played to and fro and disappeared.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 VISITORS 
 
 It was two o'clock the following Sunday after- 
 noon when the Visitor's Train, as it was called, drew 
 in and stopped at the little country station of Abolt. 
 Miss Britter, Miss Cane, and Mr. Rolan waited anx- 
 iously for the sight of Mr. Liton among the throng 
 that lowered itself down the car steps upon the un- 
 frequented platform. Mothers and fathers, brothers 
 and sisters, and sometimes friends of bad boys, of 
 every possible shape and size, carrying equally var- 
 iant packages, that maternal, paternal, or filial love 
 had packed full and high, poured through the doors 
 of the station and began hurriedly to ascend the 
 hill. 
 
 "There he is!" 
 
 A tall young man, light-complexioned face, well- 
 defined features, wearing a light gray suit and car- 
 rying a tan-colored raincoat folded over his left arm, 
 approached Mr. Rolan with his right hand extended. 
 
 They exchanged very warm greetings and Mr. 
 Liton was introduced to the two young ladies, whose 
 enthusiastic welcome greatly pleased him. 
 
 They started at once for the reformatory carry- 
 ing on a lively fire of questions and answers as they 
 went. They reached a point from where they could 
 see the road fall away into the valley and climb up 
 the other hill. The entire length of it was dotted 
 with hurrying relatives struggling up with their 
 queer and numerous packages.
 
 72 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Mr. Liton stopped frequently, to look about and 
 to comment upon the scenery or express his desire 
 to live in such a place. "It's great," he would say. 
 "So many things could be done here." 
 
 "I should think it would be easy to influence boys 
 in a place like this," he said at one time. 
 
 "In what way, for instance?" 
 
 "Well, I don't mean by giving sentimental talks 
 on the beauty of nature, nor even botanical opera- 
 tions on leaves and plants. I mean by taking walks, 
 taking pictures — athletics, camping, and so forth." 
 
 Miss Britter laughed. "Yes, that would be great, 
 but — we need the people who think as you do. Most 
 of our friends here, do not think it necessary to in- 
 fluence the boys in that way. These boys are to do 
 the world's dirty work." 
 
 Mr. Liton looked at her a moment, then appre- 
 ciating her sarcasm, said dryly, "Those people are 
 out of the question ; they have no business to be 
 here." 
 
 "Suppose you can't get others, for one," said Miss 
 Cane, "and suppose those who are here interfere, 
 for two." 
 
 They arrived upon the grounds and Mr. Liton 
 was taken through some of the class rooms, cot- 
 tages, offices, auditorium, and finally to the library, 
 where they sat down to talk matters over. By this 
 time, Mr. Liton was bubbling over with queries and 
 ideas, and it kept all three busy answering them. 
 The library was a very large room surrounded by 
 book shelves and ornamented in the center by a huge 
 pool table. One large gilt framed picture hung 
 most inartistically upon the wall.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 73 
 
 'Td like to give you a lift, Rolan," said Mr. Liton, 
 "and shift this thing," pointing to the pool table, 
 "out into the back yard and substitute for it a lot of 
 chairs and library tables. This would make an ex- 
 cellent study room. Have you study periods?" 
 
 "No, we have not been able to have study per- 
 iods. You see most of the boys have to work half a 
 day, and have only two and a half hours of school 
 each day." 
 
 "That's not right." 
 
 "There are many things in this world that are 
 not right." 
 
 "Gome to my cottage and see my room," said 
 Rolan. 
 
 A few minutes walk brought them to Cottage 
 Four and Mr. Rolan led the way up the stairway. 
 
 "I thought all the teachers' rooms were on the 
 ground floor?" 
 
 "Oh, no, you are given a large room below, when 
 you arrive, and after you're here long enough to 
 show what kind of an individual you are, unless 
 you are strong enough to demand what belongs 
 to you, you are suddenly ordered to move into the 
 small rooms above," said Nida. "I know the whole 
 process. Is there anything else you wish to know?" 
 
 Mr. Liton smiled, "I am interested to know just 
 how long I should remain in the large room if I 
 came to work here." 
 
 "Come and try it," put in Miss Britter quickly. 
 
 "Perhaps I will." 
 
 Mr. Rolan's room was a little bit of a thing. Be- 
 sides the bed, it had room for no more than a small 
 desk, a wardrobe, and one chair. They didn't stay 
 long. On their way down Mr. Liton expressed his
 
 74 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 desire to go into the little sitting room of this cot- 
 tage. 
 
 "They are alike in all the cottages," said Mr. 
 Rolan, "but come in to see it. they are kept different- 
 ly." 
 
 "Do you use these fireplaces in the winter?" 
 asked Mr. Liton after they entered. 
 
 "We are supposed to," said Miss Britter, "but I 
 have never seen any of them in use." 
 
 "What an influence it would be to have the boys 
 sit about here on winter nights — read or tell stories 
 to them — roast chestnuts." 
 
 They left the cottage and started for the grove 
 back of the school building, where visitors sat in 
 groups surrounding this or that boy they had come 
 to visit. From some groups came sounds of glad- 
 ness — a brother telling tales of the outside world, or 
 a liberal father promising great rewards for good 
 conduct; while over others the sky was dark. A 
 widowed mother in need of her son — reports for mis- 
 conduct — further detention. Many faces were sad- 
 dened by an inexpressible something. One father 
 merely sat near his son and looked away, while the 
 son buried his head in his hands. The time of de- 
 parture was drawing near. A stout mother, who 
 had to start earlier to get to the station in time, put 
 her arms about her boy and wept, and he wept with 
 her. 
 
 Mr. Liton was grieved at the sight. He stood 
 where he could look over the entire grove, and had 
 he been given to weeping as an expression of grief, 
 he, too, would have wept. Mr. Rolan stood near him, 
 accustomed to the sight, while Miss Britter and Miss 
 Cane were busy in the crowd talking to parents and
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 75 
 
 relatives, telling them how good this or that hoy had 
 heen since they had made their last visit, buying un- 
 consciously the eternal gratitude of the bad boys 
 who stood by and smiled. 
 
 Seeing the two young men alone, Miss Brand ap- 
 proached them. 
 
 "Miss Brand, meet Mr. Liton," said Rolan unen- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 "I am very glad to meet you," said Miss Brand 
 smiling profusely and moving all kinds of muscles 
 most gracefully. "Are you to become one of us?" 
 
 Mr. Liton looked at her and the leave-taking host. 
 There was a gayety in her remarks that grated upon 
 his feelings at the moment. Many mothers were 
 weeping then, and some of the boys with them. One 
 mother, feeling it very hard to part with her little 
 fellow, put her arms about him and kept them there, 
 weeping all the time until she was forced to leave. 
 
 Mr. Liton watched the boys and their parents. 
 Miss Brand went on talking. "This is a lovely place, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, it's very nice." 
 
 One of the big boys strolled past them. 
 
 "Hello, Henny," said Miss Brand, "How are you 
 this visiting day?" 
 
 "Fine and dandy," said tough-looking Henny, 
 with a wink and a smile. 
 
 "You're a great fellow, you are," she went on. 
 
 "Yeh? I know it." 
 
 "Wait till I tell you why," Miss Brand went off 
 to one side with him.* 
 
 ♦A report in the New York Call of Dec. 31, 1911, indicates 
 conditions much worse than here hinted at.
 
 76 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Who is this woman?*' asked Liton, when she 
 was gone. 
 
 "One of our teachers, if you please." 
 
 "She doesn't please me much." 
 
 The bell rang. All visitors must go. There was 
 more crying, hurried kissing, and painful leave-tak- 
 ing. A moment it seemed, and the chairs had been 
 taken up, the boys marched to the cottages, and the 
 grove was deserted. 
 
 "Let's go for a walk and show Mr. Liton onr 
 farm," suggested Nida. 
 
 "What do you think about the place?" asked Miss 
 Britter when on their way past the farm house and 
 down the road to their left. 
 
 "I am tempted to apply for a position." 
 
 "Good! We'll help you get it — you're needed 
 here." 
 
 "Really, is there a vacancy?" 
 
 "Yes, and one that no one could fill so well as 
 you." 
 
 "What about your other position?" asked Rolan. 
 
 "I don't care for the position and they don't need 
 me so very much either. I'm tired of the slavery of 
 it — I want to be where I can accomplish something." 
 
 "Small salary here, though." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Forty-five a month." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "Well, you get your board and room." 
 
 Mr. Liton thought a while. "That's quite a jump 
 down for me, but never mind, I'll manage." 
 
 "Good, good! You are really in earnest?" 
 
 "I certainly am."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 77 
 
 "Well, you leave it to me, then," said Miss Brit- 
 ter. "I will see that you get your appointment." 
 
 They remained down the valley a long time. An 
 old deserted house stood there, with all its window 
 panes shattered, like a human skull with black holes 
 where bright eyes had been. In front of this house 
 and in harmony with it, lay the lifeless remains of 
 an old apple tree. Upon this they sat looking from 
 hill to hill, planning, discussing, and planning again, 
 until the afternoon was gone ; the contrast between 
 woods and sky was accentuated, and all details lost 
 — until the universe was lit up by stars and fireflies, 
 and the air vibrated with the songs of peepers and 
 their fellow singers.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FAMILY INCREASES 
 
 Michael lay in his cell, night and day, for two 
 weeks. When all his wounds were healed and he 
 was strong again, after spending so many hours of 
 misery with his face pressed against the hard wood- 
 en bars on his window, watching the other boys at 
 play, he was released. He was taken into the office 
 and privately examined as to his physical and men- 
 tal conditions. 
 
 "Well, how do you feel now?" asked Mr. Kram- 
 mer. 
 
 Michael had been standing squarely on both 
 feet. This greeting was sudden and he had no an- 
 swer for it, so he shifted his weight to the right foot, 
 clasped both hands behind him, dropped his head, 
 and stared out of the window. 
 
 "It doesn't pay to be disobedient." 
 
 Michael did not answer, but two tears grew out 
 and spread shining films over his eyes. 
 
 "Do you think it does?" 
 
 "I wasn't disobedient." 
 
 "Do you want more of what you got last week?" 
 asked Mr. Krammer, keeping back his anger with 
 an effort. 
 
 "No, sir," was his answer, but it was said in a 
 way which showed that he had become hardened 
 to such experiences and didn't care. 
 
 "Well then, don't talk like that. Do you think 
 you can now go out and obey your superiors, as you 
 always should?"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 79 
 
 "Yes, sir," mumbled Michael, subdued, and 
 though Mr. Krammer realized that that answer 
 meant nothing, he felt himself conqueror and quite 
 relieved. The awful stubbornness had been broken, 
 if no other result was accomplished. 
 
 "Everything done here is done for your own 
 good. Look what a nice clean bed you get — of 
 course while you do the right thing. What a lovely 
 home you have — what beautiful trees around the 
 place. You must be appreciative. Appreciation is 
 one of the greatest virtues." 
 
 Michael continued looking out of the window, 
 swinging his weight from one foot to the other, 
 every now and then. 
 
 "Now we are going to make a good boy of you 
 Michael, a credit to your parents and of value to 
 your employers, or to any one with whom you may 
 be connected." 
 
 Michael still made no answer. 
 
 "Yes, sir, we will make a good boy of you at 
 no matter what cost and pain," went on Mr. Kram- 
 mer. "If you behave yourself, stand ready at all 
 times to do, without any nonsensical back talk, all 
 that is asked of you by your superiors, you will 
 have a good chance here. You can learn a trade 
 or farming. You can be a house painter or a plum- 
 ber, or whatever you like to be best, and become a 
 useful citizen, useful to your parents, your em- 
 ployer, or your country. I often get requests for 
 good boys to fill good positions. If you do what is 
 right in the cottage, at your work, or wherever you 
 may be put, I can place you in a good position. I 
 placed one boy on a farm the other day." 
 
 Michael became interested.
 
 80 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "A little while ago one of our boys got a good 
 position with one of the big plumbers of the city. 
 Then, besides all that, I may want to adopt a good 
 boy. There are all kinds of good chances for the 
 boy who obeys, who works with a will and doesn't 
 watch the clock — who always smiles and is happy 
 and respectful." 
 
 Mr. Krammer was now satisfied that there were 
 no broken bones in the boy's body and that he was 
 not inclined to tell his troubles and have the thing 
 leak out. "He won't run away. He is a quiet secre- 
 tive boy, anyway," thought he, relieving himself, 
 "he never tells anything — he bites his lips." 
 
 Michael was taken to the principal's office. 
 
 "You have lost a great deal of your work, haven't 
 you?" said Miss Britter, when Michael was left alone 
 with her. 
 
 Michael's eyes watered again, and he made no 
 reply. 
 
 "I don't like to send him to Miss Brand now," 
 thought Miss Britter. "She won't put up with his 
 condition and there'll be more trouble." 
 
 "Would you like to stay here, in my office, and 
 have me help you, so that you can make up the work 
 you lost?" 
 
 "I don't care," said Michael bitterly. 
 
 "All right, then, we'll do that for a while. I think 
 that if you work hard with me, I will be able to 
 send you to a higher grade." 
 
 Michael was overwhelmed by the encouragement 
 and her genuine interest, especially coming after his 
 interview with the Superintendent and his own un- 
 friendly reply to Miss Britter's friendly offer. "How
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 81 
 
 different she was from all the rest, from everybody 
 in the world." 
 
 She brought a chair from one of the rooms, 
 placed it against the table, asked him to sit down, 
 and gave him an entirely new set of books, paper, 
 pencil, pen and ink. These clean new things were 
 to be his, this his room, his desk, and the principal 
 his teacher. 
 
 "I wonder why she's so good to me," he thought. 
 "I guess she's sorry for me." 
 
 "Before we go to work, Michael, will you take 
 this note to Miss Cane's room for me?" 
 
 Michael did not know what to make of it. How 
 can a teacher bestow more kindness upon a pupil 
 than by sending him on an errand. He was full 
 of hope, and showed his eagerness and delight in 
 having, as he concluded in his little mind, the best 
 lady he had ever had for a friend. 
 
 "Yes, ma'm," he said very eagerly. 
 
 He pulled a clean piece of paper out of the waste 
 paper basket and folded it about the note that he 
 might not stain it, and thought to himself, "To- 
 morrow I'll come in here with my hands so clean. 
 I won't need a piece of paper, if she should send me 
 with a note again." 
 
 Hardly had he run the length of the hallway 
 when he felt himself colliding will) a big body — he 
 was face to face with the Colonel. 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 "Miss Britter sent me with this note." 
 
 "Oh, no sir, you can't be sent anywhere, you go 
 right back with me." 
 
 Miss Britter," the Colonel shouted when they
 
 82 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 reached the door of her office, "what's this boy doing 
 alone in the hallway? Did you send him?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, I did." 
 
 "He's not a second-stripe boy." 
 
 "Mr. Reilly, I sent this boy on an errand. Will 
 you please let him go?" 
 
 Mr. Reilly released his hold and stood looking at 
 her, trying to control his temper. "You have no 
 right to send that boy anywhere." 
 
 "Talking about rights, Mr. Reilly, wasn't it de- 
 cided some time ago that you had no right to in- 
 terfere with my work? I am in charge of this 
 school." 
 
 "You don't know this boy as I do." 
 
 "I think I know him much better than you do, 
 if you will pardon me." 
 
 "Well, y'don't know him. That fellow'll die on 
 the gallows, and you'll help him get there." 
 
 "What's the use of arguing, Mr. Reilly, we won't 
 agree. Besides I don't believe in prophets." 
 
 "Well, I'm going to see to it just the same. I 
 suppose I ought to send out an alarm for him any- 
 way. He'll never come back, and if he don't you'll 
 pay that five-dollar fine let me tell you." 
 
 "Giving a boy a chance and making the possibil- 
 ity of leading him the right way is worth the risk 
 of a five-dollar bill to me." 
 
 Mr. Reilly made a dash for the superintendent's 
 office. 
 
 Michael came back, took his seat and worked 
 with an expression of satisfaction which he had 
 never had before. "The big burly Colonel had to 
 give in," Michael chuckled to himself. She was
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 83 
 
 certainly, beyond all doubt a friend of his and a 
 powerful lady. 
 
 Miss Britter moved her chair near to Michael and 
 began to test his ability to read. He held a new 
 sixth reader in his hand and was looking for an in- 
 teresting lesson, since he was given the privilege of 
 choosing one. Mr. Krammer appeared in the door- 
 way and frightened him. "He won't let her teach 
 me," was the first thought that came to him. 
 
 "May I see you a moment?" said Mr. Krammer, 
 remaining outside of the doorway, with the usual 
 pale face and flashing eyes — he was angry. 
 
 Miss Britter walked out into the hallway. 
 
 "Now, Miss Britter," he began, growing paler, 
 "you know that it is against the rules of this insti- 
 tution to let a new boy, any boy that hasn't yet 
 received his second stripe, go anywhere, alone." 
 
 "I know that very well, and, never before, have 
 I sent a new boy anywhere. This, however, was an 
 exceptional case and I felt that I could gain so much 
 by doing it that it paid me to risk it — he's here, as 
 you see." 
 
 "It makes no difference what the purpose is, Miss 
 Britter, these are my rules and I'd like to have you 
 observe tln'in. He did come back this time, but he 
 might not next time. You haven't had the experi- 
 ence I have had. Don't forget that I have been in 
 this business twenty years and I know. Besides, this 
 fellow's got, as you probably know, a very had dis- 
 position. I wouldn't trust him for a minute. Why 
 isn't he in his class room?" 
 
 "Because I wish to help him make up some of 
 Hi'' work he has lost by being shut up in his cell."
 
 84 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I don't think that a very good plan. He can 
 make up his work in his class room." 
 
 "Mr. Krammer, this is as far as I can go. If you 
 wish my office — you may have it — you are interfer- 
 ing with everything I do. I am not a machine and 
 my ambition does not run in that direction. I can 
 find a place where I can have a little leeway in doing 
 things, at least to a limited extent." 
 
 "I'm sure you have a great deal of leeway here, 
 Miss Britter. I merely want to help you out. You 
 are busy enough with your duties as principal. 
 Why should you be adding burdens to those you 
 have already? However, if you enjoy doing this I 
 have no intention at all of interfering with your 
 work. I hope I haven't made you feel that. I think 
 you have taken too much hard work and responsi- 
 bility upon yourself." 
 
 Mr. Krammer finally walked away and Miss Brit- 
 ter returned to her private pupil, determined to show 
 that he was not going towards the gallows. 
 
 "What have you decided you'd like to read, Mich- 
 ael?" 
 
 Michael held the book open and pointed to the 
 title on the page before him, "The Wreck." 
 
 "Good, I love that myself. It is only one chap- 
 ter from a very beautiful book." 
 
 "Yes, ma'm, I know — I just read here, it is from 
 David Gopperfield by Charles Dickens." 
 
 "Did you ever read David Copperfield?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, then, shall I tell you the story, so that you 
 will enjoy this chapter more?" 
 
 Michael answered, showing that he was pleased 
 with the idea, and took a comfortable position for
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 85 
 
 listening and one in which he wouldn't have to look 
 into her eyes all the time, for as much as he liked 
 her now, there was still that feeling of doubt in him 
 towards everybody which is created by the exper- 
 iences of a life like his. 
 
 "This is the time to act," thought Miss Britter, 
 as she observed the subtle change in the expression 
 on his face. She summed up all the power within 
 her. With a vividness that is prompted by the great- 
 est appreciation only, she led the misused David 
 through all his trials, pictured vividly his sufferings 
 at the hands of his misusers, the happy days on the 
 seashore with Emily, his travels, the horrible wine- 
 shop, his escape, his aunt,, the storm, the banging 
 of the shutters on the window of his bedroom in 
 the hotel at Yarmouth, Ham and the wreckage, Em- 
 ily's going to Australia, David's rise to greatness, and 
 all that she could remember, till Michael's eyes fair- 
 ly bulged, and he hoped in his heart that he, too, 
 would be like David Gopperfield. 
 
 Michael entered right into the spirit of the story, 
 especially because Miss Britter told him that it was 
 a true story, that Dickens himself is supposed to 
 have experienced the things that he made David 
 experience in the story — that it was a real true story. 
 As far as his own experience allowed him, Michael 
 actually saw everything she described, or he read, 
 and he read with feeling. There was none of the 
 singsong that he used to read with, and that most 
 children read with; and when he got througli with 
 the lesson, he asked with no little anxiety, "Have 
 you that book?" 
 
 "Yes, I think I have it," said Miss Britter, "Gome 
 up into the library and I will let you look for it.
 
 86 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 There is a very nice Morris chair up there and when 
 you find David Copperfield, you can sit down in it 
 and read till I come for you." 
 
 She left him in the library and, much to her re- 
 gret, felt obliged to turn the key on him. She then 
 returned to her office, where to her consternation she 
 found a crowd of youngsters waiting for her. Miss 
 Greet had sent down three impudent boys, and they 
 were all three giggling fearlessly. Miss Tick sent 
 in one fellow who refused to work. Mr. Rolan sent 
 in two who were caught fighting, and Miss Brand 
 sent in two for impudence and disrespectful back 
 talk. All had to be attended to. 
 
 "If they wouldn't send down so many of them," 
 thought Miss Britter, "I could do something with 
 them." 
 
 She took the smallest fellow first. 
 
 "What's the matter with you?" 
 
 "I didn't do my work," said Peter, his head low- 
 ered and his fingers twitching nervously. 
 
 "Why didn't you do your work?" 
 
 " 'Cause she won't promote me. I did better'n 
 Ring; an' he ivas promoted." 
 
 "Now, then, because you won't do your work we 
 won't promote you, and if you don't do your work 
 from now on, we simply won't let you eat until you 
 do. Go back to your class room and tell your teach- 
 er that you are going to do your work now, and then 
 when I am through with the rest of the boys here, 
 I will come to see what you have done." 
 
 "You two boys who were caught fighting I will 
 send back to your class rooms now, and this after- 
 noon or to-morrow morning I will call you in here 
 and tell you what I think about it. I am going to
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 87 
 
 let you think it over by yourselves until then, so 
 that you will feel that I am fair in what I am going 
 to do with you, and be able to tell me why I shouldn't 
 do what I want to. Something must be done with 
 boys who fight, If you can't settle things quietly by 
 yourselves, then we have to step in and help you 
 settle them. Go on now back to your class rooms 
 and by to-morrow, if not sooner, I will see you both." 
 "Now you three come over here. Impudence!" 
 she looked at them a while. They stopped laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 "We were only laughing," said one of them, and 
 thereupon all three lost control of themselves and 
 giggled again. 
 
 "If you acted as you do now I don't blame Miss 
 Greet for getting rid of you; but tell me what the 
 trouble was." 
 
 "Marlberg had his pockets stuffed with sand- 
 wiches — he got up to go to the board — teacher called 
 on him — they fell on the floor." And once more 
 the three of them were forced to muster all self con- 
 trol to keep back their renewed desire to laugh. 
 
 Poor Miss Britler! She was on the verge of 
 laughing heartily herself. What was she to do? 
 "Think of a teacher sending boys out for such a 
 thing, causing a great deal of trouble, and placing 
 herself and principal in a peculiar position instead 
 of merely laughing at it herself for a few moments 
 and going on with her work," she thought to her- 
 self, and tried to look serious. 
 "Where's Marlberg?" 
 
 "He's in the class room. We tried to tell her, 
 she called us impudent."
 
 88 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Well, you annoyed her. If you thought it was 
 funny you should have laughed quietly to your- 
 selves and not, as you must have, disturbed the rest 
 of the class and the work. Now go back and behave 
 yourselves. I don't want to give you any reports 
 for this because I don't think you meant anything 
 wrong, but take care now, or I shall have to." 
 
 Miss Britter was left with the two who had been 
 impudent to Miss Brand and had given her disre- 
 spectful back talk. Having been witness to the man- 
 ner in which she had attended to those who came 
 before them, as was unavoidable, since her entire 
 offices consisted of one small room, they were now 
 quite hopeful or careless as to their own fates. A 
 third boy was with them, and he carried a note. Miss 
 Britter began to read it, and as she did so her face 
 assumed a very severe expression. She looked at 
 the bigger one. 
 
 "She nags me so," he said with contempt, "I 
 had to say it to her. I don't want to be in her class 
 and I'll never be good while I'm there — she just 
 won't let me, she hates me." 
 
 The other fellow kept changing his position and 
 swinging his head from side to side. 
 
 "I'll tell you, Jack," she began, leaning down- 
 ward a little and half shutting one eye, "if I didn't 
 know you for an exceptionally nice boy, I should be 
 very angry at you for talking like that either to 
 Miss Brand or to me." 
 
 "I can't help it, it's true," said Jack, almost cry- 
 ing. 
 
 "You may think it's true, but whether it is true 
 or not Miss Brand is your teacher, and her work 
 consists of trying to help you be better men by teach-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 89 
 
 ing you; and you should under no circumstances 
 have talked to her in that way. You know what the 
 rules of this institution are. For your offence, I 
 must give you fifteen marks each. That means that 
 you must spend three weeks more here. Now, I 
 would advise you, as a very good friend of yours, 
 to take your punishments like men and go back to 
 your class rooms and forget all about it. Only don't 
 get into that mess again. Everybody has the right 
 to think as he pleases, but no one has the right to 
 talk as you boys did." 
 
 Both boys cried. No punishment could equal in 
 severity the punishment of reports, for every re- 
 port lengthened the slavery they despised. 
 
 She gave the third boy a note to take back to Miss 
 Brand, and sent all back to their class room; then 
 went up stairs to get Michael down before the bugle 
 should blow. 
 
 Michael sat squeezed into the Morris chair, his 
 feet under him, reading. 
 
 "How do you like David Gopperfield?" 
 
 Michael shook his flushed face. "It's the nicest 
 story I ever read. The first part was a little hard for 
 me. But now!" he shook his head again, and went 
 on, "I want to hurry up and get to the part where 
 David Goperfield plays with Emily by the sea. I 
 found some other books, while looking for this one, 
 that I want to read when I am through with this." 
 
 She promised to let him read every day, and they 
 started for the floor below, and Michael was about 
 to be sent down with the rest of the boys, when he 
 recognized the probation officer coming in with two 
 boys back of him, and a strange and sudden im- 
 pulse caused him to stop and look more closely at
 
 90 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 them to make sure. Just as he thought — there were 
 Kaiky and Skinny. 
 
 Michael was hurried down into the basement, 
 where he fell into his cottage line with the aid of 
 a very severe side glance on the part of the Colonel, 
 who, he was certain, now had it in for him. But 
 Colonel Reilly affected him superficially only, at this 
 time — there were too many exciting things to think 
 about. The entire morning had been climaxed by 
 the sight of his beloved friends, more beloved now 
 than ever. The desire to see them was consuming 
 — how would he ever wait through those awful two 
 weeks of quarantine? Colonel Reilly never missed 
 a chance to stare at him severely, and though he was 
 not exactly afraid, he soon felt a peculiar tug at his 
 heart, so that his face darkened a little, the expres- 
 sion of inward joy disappeared, and he became 
 merely number thirty-three — one little culprit in an 
 assemblage of many. 
 
 "Has every class gone down?" asked Miss Brit- 
 ter of a group of teachers, standing at the end of the 
 long hallway. 
 
 Nida and Rolan waved an affirmative reply, 
 which was not enough for Miss Brand, whose 
 feigned respect for superiors caused her, as usual, 
 to go into a dozen varieties of graceful muscular 
 movement, and all lit up by smiles, answer, "As far 
 as I know, Miss Britter." 
 
 Miss Britter on the other hand, incapable of feign- 
 ing appreciation for that respect any longer, said, 
 addressing herself to Nida and Rolan, "Wait for me, 
 will you? I want to see Mr. Krammer. I will be 
 out soon. We can go for a walk."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 91 
 
 Mr. Krammer, as usual, with all the importance 
 he could attach to his great amount of avoirdupois, 
 sat in his armchair figuring away at amounts spent, 
 amounts received, and amounts expected and hoped 
 for. When Miss Britter came in, he turned one of 
 his little books over on papers on his desk, sat back 
 in his seat, clasped his hands and prepared to lis- 
 ten. 
 
 "Mr. Krammer," she began, "I must have anoth- 
 er High School teacher." 
 
 "I had one for you, but you weren't satisfied." 
 
 "Were you satisfied with him?" 
 
 "No, no, you didn't understand me. I didn't want 
 him since he was as bad as you said he was, but 
 I thought he might have stayed till we got another 
 teacher to take his place." 
 
 "But, Mr. Krammer, I explained to you that from 
 a psychological point of view," said Miss Britter, 
 calmly, knowing that the word psychology, when- 
 ever she could possibly make use of it, due to its 
 mystery in his mind, always defeated his arguments, 
 "that it was much better to have the boys go on 
 without a teacher than to leave them in the care of 
 a man like Mr. Kurt. The class is already demoral- 
 ized. They are impatient — have no respect for any 
 one. I don't blame them, mind you. No one should 
 have very much respect for such a man — he looks 
 a degenerate. I say it would be better to send them 
 out to work on the farm than keep them in school 
 under these conditions." 
 
 "Oh, no, we can't send them out of school. We 
 get seven cents a day for every boy in school. For 
 such reasons the State will deduct those seven cents 
 from their usual amount, and we can't afford that;
 
 92 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 but I'll tell you what can be done. Suppose you 
 take care of them for half an hour each morning 
 and afternoon, so that we can mark them present, 
 then, as you say, we can send them out to work on 
 the farm, without losing the seven cents a day for 
 each boy." 
 
 "But here is the point, Mr. Krammer, I was just 
 choosing between two evils. You agree with me, 
 surely, that to have a good teacher is better than 
 either." 
 
 "Yes, yes, surely, but you can't get good teach- 
 ers very easily. Good teachers are scarce." 
 
 "I have a very good teacher for you, — a college 
 graduate, employed in the city High Schools now, 
 willing to give up' his good position there and come 
 here for less money, because of his deep interest in 
 the cause." 
 
 "Yes, I know to whom you refer, at least I think I 
 know. Mr. Badgeman informed me of Mr. Liton. 
 Isn't that the name?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Liton is the man." 
 
 "Yes, I thought so. But — aside from my hesitat- 
 ing to employ a man like Mr. Liton for very good 
 reasons of my own, Mr. Badgeman, chairman of the 
 appointing committee, has advertised for teachers 
 and has received many applications, and they must 
 be attended to fairly and in order." 
 
 "But what are your objections to a man like 
 Mr. Liton?" 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you, Miss Britter. I am a man 
 of experience, as I hope you know. I have been in 
 this business for twenty years, probably more — I 
 know these men. They are capable, but they come
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 93 
 
 into a place like this and in a week or two they want 
 to run it." 
 
 "But Mr. Krammer, the man has much more of a 
 chance for advancement where he is than he ever 
 could have here, if that should be his object in life. 
 He comes here because he wants to help the boys. 
 He can do it — he is very capable and would be a very 
 valuable help to you. I know him from conversing 
 with him, and Mr. Rolan has known him for years. 
 Besides, he has the letters of recommendation that 
 commend him in the highest terms." 
 
 "Appointing is not in my province, as you know. 
 There is a committee of appointment, and I have 
 to abide by their doings. Besides, as Mr. Badgeman 
 also informs me, he wants more than we can give 
 him." 
 
 "He told me that he'd work for the forty-five you 
 give to all men teachers." 
 
 "Then he changed his mind, I guess. Or, he may 
 intend to work a month or so for that sum, then, 
 after having settled himself, demand more. The man 
 must be foolish to leave a position paying so much 
 more and offering such advancement, for the one 
 he would get here." 
 
 "I can not see why the question of salary should 
 arise at all, when he told me that he was willing to 
 come for what he could get. But suppose he should 
 want five or ten dollars a month more, I don't see 
 why he shouldn't get it if he's worth it. Five or ten 
 dollars a month won't bankrupt this institution and 
 may make it infinitely better. It seems to me that 
 our experience here has proven that thirty-five dollar 
 agency teachers are no economy from any point of 
 view."
 
 94 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "They're good enough for me. We don't need 
 any better kind, Miss Britter. That is your trouble — 
 you want to do the impossible; you want to make 
 poets out of these boys when they aren't capable of 
 being good carpenters and shoemakers at present. 
 After all, they come from a lower order of society, 
 and if you can make a good faithful army of em- 
 ployees out of them to do the world's dirty work, 
 you will really have done human kind a service." 
 
 Miss Britter's face grew red. This was meeting 
 face to face the personification of evil that made the 
 realization of her dream an impossibility. How 
 can you talk to such a man? What hope is there for 
 these unfortunate boys in his charge? She could 
 have cried right there before him. 
 
 "You can expect a young lady here to-morrow 
 to take charge of the High School class," said Mr. 
 Krammer, to break the silence. "I believe her name 
 is Miss Upstir. She is a Normal School graduate, 
 and I believe has been head of a department in a 
 town school in Pennsylvania." 
 
 Miss Britter hurriedly left his office and made 
 for her own. She found everything as she had left 
 it. Nida and Mr. Rolan were gone. She straight- 
 ened a few of the papers on her desk and sat down 
 to think. "Why should I stay here?" she kept asking 
 herself over and over. "Surely there is some place 
 in the world where I will be allowed to accomplish 
 something." 
 
 A rap on the door startled her. 
 
 "Gome in." 
 
 Miss Tick, the first-grade teacher, opened the 
 door.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 95 
 
 "Miss Britter," she began, full of excitement, "I 
 have come to tell you that I am going to leave. T can 
 not go on with the class any longer. I am not fitted 
 to teach. Why did he make me do it? I came here 
 as a stenographer. He kept telling me all along that 
 it's only temporarily. It's almost a year now, and 
 I am not going to stay any longer. It's unfair to the 
 poor kids. They are learning nothing. I wasn't 
 born a teacher and never studied for anything other 
 than stenographer, and that wasn't my fault either 
 — I wanted to study badly enough." 
 
 "That's just the way he's been doing things since 
 I know him. Anything but the right thing. It 
 really is most unfair to the pupils. He brought you 
 here as a stenographer, let him give you such a posi- 
 tion." 
 
 "He needn't do that either. I am sure I can get 
 some kind of a position in the city. If the food were 
 not so wretched, I'd make him give me a position 
 as stenographer; but I really don't want to stay. You 
 know, I get awfully sick. The food doesn't agree 
 with me at all." 
 
 "Now, my dear, since you feel that way about 
 it, please, for my sake and the sake of these chil- 
 dren, do not allow him to persuade you to stay till 
 he can get another teacher, because he will forget 
 all about it." 
 
 "No, I won't. I allowed him to play that trick on 
 me too many times already. Miss Britter, if I con- 
 sidered myself alone, I wouldn't object to being in 
 that room. It would be nice and easy. But I feel 
 that it is very unfair to the little fellows. Of course 
 I do worry a little about getting another position, but
 
 96 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 I feel that I have no right to take that into consid- 
 eration." 
 
 "Please let me help you, Martha, will you?" 
 
 "Oh, no, I couldn't think of such a thing." 
 
 "But in case you are in need, you will write to 
 me? But listen, I have some friends in the city, I 
 will write to them and I'm sure they can help you 
 get a good position." 
 
 "Yes, I would be thankful to you for that." 
 
 They outlined a plan of action, and left the office. 
 Miss Tick, after promising to go into the superin- 
 tendent's office the first thing in the afternoon and 
 resign, went to eat her lunch, while Miss Britter took 
 the road to the farm and down the wooded valley to 
 the left. 
 
 "We waited, and waited, and waited, and waited 
 for you, and finally gave up doing so, as you see," 
 said Nida, referring to herself and Rolan when they 
 met, 
 
 "I am sorry you waited. I didn't think it would 
 take so long." 
 
 "What happened?" asked Mr. Rolan. 
 
 "They don't want him." 
 
 "He'll get in anyway. He'll corner them some 
 way." 
 
 "I hope so." Miss Britter told in every detail just 
 what had happened. 
 
 "I'm not fit to teach, either, for that matter," said 
 Nida. "I was his confidential stenographer, when a 
 vacancy occurred and I began to know too much 
 about the workings of the institution, and he asked 
 me to take the class. He'd put anybody in a class- 
 room. Before you came he used to put that mule of 
 a bookkeeper into the classroom, if the teacher was
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 97 
 
 absent or had left. I remember a time, when cot- 
 tage fathers were allowed to substitute in the class- 
 room, and would sit at the desk with a stick in their 
 hands, while the boys were given large geographies 
 and allowed to look through the books for pictures. 
 The boys would get so sick of geographies they 
 couldn't bear to look at them — then the stick would 
 be made use of. Oh, those were great times!" 
 
 "But you can't say that about yourself, Nida. In 
 your case he just happened to do the best thing. You 
 had been here two years by that time, and had 
 known and befriended every boy on the grounds. 
 Besides you love the work and are interested in solv- 
 ing the problems before us. A college or training 
 school diploma is not a guarantee of efficiency, as 
 far as teachers are concerned. I would at any time 
 prefer the teacher who loved her work and taught 
 instinctively right, to the graduate of anything, if 
 the diploma was all she had to offer. Miss Tick, 
 however, hadn't been here more than a few months, 
 when slic was asked to take the first grade. She 
 has had less of an education than you have, and she 
 is not interested in the work. She is a very good 
 girl though. Not many would have taken the stand 
 she has taken." 
 
 "Aren't we going back for lunch?" asked Rolan. 
 
 "I don't care to." 
 
 '.Wither do I." 
 
 "What are we going to do about it, anyway? 
 We'll soon be skeletons." 
 
 "Let's go to Hilldale again to-night." 
 
 "That's becoming too expensive," said Nida. 
 "Our board and room are considered as part of onr
 
 98 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 salaries; the other part we have to use to make up 
 the inefficiency and insufficiency of the first." 
 
 "Just wait till we settle this teacher business," 
 said Miss Britter. "Wait until Mr. Liton comes, we'll 
 then get after them for the bad food. At present it 
 would do no good to complain about the food, and 
 might do a lot of harm. You see our being particu- 
 lar is a part of the objection to good teachers." 
 
 "Isn't it terrible, though, to think that here we 
 are ready to give the best that is in us for the good 
 of the institution, and they can't as much as give 
 us a decent meal." 
 
 "But they don't want you to give the best that is 
 in you for this institution — they don't want good 
 teachers. These boys are to be the world's dirty 
 workers, and we interfere in the process of prepar- 
 ing them for it. This is no reformatory — it is merely 
 a convenience. It is a place where boys who are 
 troublesome are to be kept for a short time, regard- 
 less of what will happen to them afterwards. Socie- 
 ty in this case is like the poor housekeeper that 
 doesn't clean but merely transfers the dirt and other 
 objectionable things, such as papers, and so forth, 
 to where they won't be seen when the neighbor 
 comes. Then when the corners get so full of dirt 
 that it begins to slide back, she takes a day off and 
 goes into a general and thorough housecleaning. 
 Society has its penitentiary and electric chair for 
 that." 
 
 "That's all that's the matter." 
 
 "Have you heard the latest?" asked Nida, after 
 a few moments of silent walking. "There is some- 
 thing wrong with that woman. See how she smiled 
 and fell all over herself as if nothing had happened."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 99 
 
 "You mean Miss Brand?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Who started that rumor?" asked Rolan. 
 
 "It's no mere rumor. I know Jack; he's a relia- 
 ble boy. He swears that he saw the watchman leave 
 her room early yesterday morning. If this were the 
 first time, it would be different; there would be an 
 excuse for doubt. Why don't the boys start such 
 rumors about other people?" 
 
 "I wonder whether that is some of the indecent 
 back talk for which she sent Jack out to-day?" said 
 Miss Britter. 
 
 "Think of it," went on Nida, "this is the third 
 affair of its kind in the last three months, besides 
 the experience I had personally with her." 
 
 "What was your experience?" asked Rolan, smil- 
 ing significantly. 
 
 "Why, have you had any experiences with her?" 
 
 "What was yours?" repeated Rolan, still smiling. 
 
 "One night about six weeks ago, I was to meet 
 one of the girls at the station. She was coming 
 home late from the city, and was afraid to walk up 
 here alone. i didn't care much about going to the 
 station alone, and seeing Miss Brand's window, the 
 only one lit up, I decided to ask her to go with me. 
 When I came into the hallway half a dozen boys 
 who had been trying to peep into her room dashed 
 back to their sitting room where the rest of the boys 
 were. I was very angry and was going to tell her 
 about it. 1 rapped on her door, but received no 
 answer. Being innocent of what it all might be, I 
 rapped again and this time much harder. Then I 
 heard an awful shifting about and finally her ner- 
 vous voice, calling. 'Come in,' or something which
 
 100 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 sounded like it, and I opened the door. There she 
 sat, red as a beet, and not far from her sat Papa 
 Bloate looking like a lost sheep." 
 
 "What did they say?" 
 
 "Oh, she tried to frame all kinds of excuses. She 
 looked a sight. I couldn't stand it. Excusing my- 
 self, I escaped." 
 
 "Where was Mrs. Bloate?" 
 
 "It was her day off. She was in town." 
 
 "These are the people who teach in a refor- 
 matory. I sometimes feel like running off where I 
 shall never hear of reformation again. One begins 
 to feel that the so-called immoral and criminal, who 
 are at least open about their immorality and crimi- 
 nality, are but a handful and extremely honorable as 
 compared to the many so-called moral people, who 
 hide their iniquity." 
 
 "Krammer knows all about it," said Nida. "He 
 evidently likes such people. Two years ago we had 
 a terrible time here with three such people. These 
 women simply went wild. The things they did were 
 horrifying. Reilly, himself, was discharged from 
 the City Reformatory for immoral reasons but 
 Krammer took him just the same."* 
 
 "Mind you," began Miss Britter, "she has the 
 right to do as she pleases off the grounds, but here 
 
 charged at the hearing that 
 
 trucker and in charge of the cottage, and 
 
 his wife, had been discharged from the schools for cruelty. 
 They were engaged, he says, by the house of detention in 
 this city and later discharged, whereupon they were rehired 
 
 at through assistant 
 
 superintendent. says is the official flogger 
 
 of the institution at ." — Philadelphia Times, 
 
 Feb. 20, 1913.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES L01 
 
 where she is supposed to help in the instruction of 
 morals — what a farce to allow such a woman to 
 teach?" 
 
 "What's the use?"' said Rolan, "If Liton doesn't 
 come down here we might as well get johs else- 
 where." 
 
 "Yet," said Miss Britter, "If I were forced to leave 
 this place I should go mad." 
 
 "You know," said Nida, "in the four years that 
 T have been here I have packed my trunk a dozen 
 times. I pack and write out my resignation, then 
 I go out for a walk, and the thought of leaving these 
 poor abused boys and the hills just breaks my heart 
 and I tear up my resignation." 
 
 "There is a fascination about the whole business, 
 the boys, the hills, and so on, that outweighs my 
 objections, too," added Rolan. 
 
 They were just climbing up the hill on their way 
 back to school when they saw "Eddy," the shepherd 
 boy, running towards them breathlessly. His pock- 
 ets were bulging out with hickory nuts, and his arms 
 were loaded with apples and flowers, all of which 
 he unloaded hastily into their hands, beaming all 
 the while. "I saw you go down the hill," he said, 
 "and I picked these for you to take with you when 
 you came back." With this he returned hastily to 
 his sheep. 
 
 This had come as an appeal on the part of the 
 boys as a whole, and in their hearts they answered 
 it — no, no matter what would happen, they should 
 not leave.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 SOME MORE TEACHERS 
 
 The next day brought a cold, clear autumn morn- 
 ing, and the bugle called its six o'clock message long- 
 after Miss Britter had already made a dozen different 
 considerations for a dozen different boys, in the lit- 
 tle note book she kept for the purpose. The usual 
 sounds filled her with a kind of restlessness, and her 
 own four walls became too small for her. She de- 
 sired to go out and see the whole grounds, the whole 
 beloved vista, perhaps frost-touched, the autumn 
 sky, and her boys going to the flag-pole. 
 
 "Oh, no, whatever happens," she said to herself, 
 and took a deep breath of cool air. 
 
 The cow-boys went for their cows quietly until 
 they neared the barn, and were out of the Colonel's 
 reach. Then they began singing and calling to each 
 other so that they filled the air with gladness. The 
 reformatory atmosphere was filled with the hurry- 
 ing of little foot-falls and military commands, and, 
 with the straight and rising smoke above the dining- 
 room, came the smell of coffee and the sound of 
 knives and forks and plates. 
 
 Miss Britter went for a walk, and came back in 
 time for breakfast. At the table she was introduced 
 as the principal to a very formal, wild-eyed, slightly 
 deaf and very well-meaning lady, who was to take 
 the High School class. 
 
 "Do you think I can manage it?" she asked very 
 nervously, and Miss Britter was very sorry for her.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 103 
 
 She had to do very little thinking about it — Miss 
 Upstir lasted just one day. 
 
 "That horrible High School class is a hopeless 
 lot of devils," sighed one of a small collection of 
 cottage mothers, gathered in front of the dining- 
 room, while the boys were hauling down the flag 
 that evening. 
 
 "It's Miss Britter's angelic way of handling 
 them," said another sarcastically, with a twist of her 
 mouth. 
 
 "I am willing to wager," put in an unsuccessful 
 circus lady, "that they never will find a teacher who 
 will handle them." 
 
 "What they need," said a straight-looking blue- 
 law cottage mother, "is a good sound beating by 
 Colonel Reilly, and the coop for a few weeks with 
 bread and water. I'd make 'em mind if I had the 
 say. You find none of them cuttin' up much in my 
 cottage. I got an old shoe that I use across the mouth 
 now and then when they try to give me back talk." 
 
 Miss Britter, Miss Cane, and Mr. Rolan decided to 
 dine out that evening, and when the last little fellow 
 limped his way into the dining-room, they could 
 have been seen making their way down the narrow 
 path on a short cut to Hilldale. 
 
 "What are you going to do about her?" asked 
 Rolan. 
 
 "I'm going to try her to-morrow in the first grade, 
 and I can tell you to-morrow only. I simply will 
 not let him send in such creatures to ruin my boys. 
 Whatever she might have been able to do years ago, 
 I am sure that no school of any importance would 
 tolerate her, poor woman, now. She's a nervous
 
 104 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 wreck and ought to have the opportunity to rest for 
 the next five years or so." 
 
 "I have an idea," said Rolan, suddenly. "I am 
 going to telephone to Liton and tell him that this 
 woman is a failure, and that he should get at them 
 from the other side." 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 "You remain out here and watch," said Rolan, 
 when they reached the post office in Abolt, "and I'll 
 go in and call him up. Should any of our gossiping 
 friends be coming this way, you appear inside and 
 I'll cut it short." 
 
 No gossips having shown themselves, Rolan was 
 not disturbed and soon came out partly vexed and 
 partly expectant. 
 
 "He's got something up his sleeve." 
 
 "Couldn't you converse with him?" 
 
 "Not much. He seemed to be with some one he 
 did not wish to have hear about our scheme." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 " 'Will see you soon. Good bye,' was all he said, 
 after greeting me. I felt that he wanted me to hang 
 up the receiver, and so I did. He's making his way 
 here, I'm thinking." 
 
 Hilldale, by the time they reached it, was all lit 
 up, and Main street was thronged with people 
 going in both directions and, probably, considering 
 the usual, for every conceivable purpose. 
 
 The little restaurant to which they had acquired 
 the habit of applying the possessive pronoun, our, 
 was as gay and brilliant as ever, and the smell of 
 its coffee, was most appetizing. One table was 
 entirely unoccupied and seemed to have been waiting 
 for them.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 105 
 
 They reached the grounds thai night long after 
 Ihf lights had been shut oft'. Mr. Rolan went to his 
 quarters, and Nida and Miss Britter went to one of 
 their cottages, and sat down where they could look 
 into the dark valley and over the dark hill and its 
 monastery towers and into the clear nocturnal 
 autumn sky. They talked over many important 
 things until the desire for sleep made great inroads 
 upon their energy and they retired. 
 
 Miss Britter went to her office early next morning, 
 and repeated to herself many times, "What shall I 
 do with that High School class?" and finally con- 
 cluded that unless she could take them herself, they 
 would become uncontrollable. "I'll keep my doors 
 open, and attend to the principal's duties as well." 
 She accordingly began the preparation of her day's 
 progress; but she had hardly completed half of it 
 when the door opened and Nida, full of excitement, 
 rushed in. 
 
 "Say, I heard a new rumor. Krammer got a 
 telephone message last night that a new teacher is 
 coming this morning, and from the excitement 
 everywhere I take it that, much to Krammer's dis- 
 may. Liton has worked his way in, and is coming." 
 
 ■'The carriage meeting the early morning train 
 oughl to be here soon; let's watch for it." 
 
 "There it comes now." 
 
 The carriage slopped in front of the superintend- 
 ent's cottage, and Mr. Krammer came out to meet it. 
 When Mr. Liton stepped off, they shook hands. 
 
 Rumors had been spread explaining the desire 
 on the part of his friends to get him into the service 
 of Abolt School and the opposition met in doing so; 
 and then, when many had delighted in the fact that
 
 106 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 an additional believer in the angelic treatment of 
 little criminals had been successfully barred from 
 entering, he came. What excitement on the 
 grounds ! 
 
 Mr. Bloate and Mr. Gallwin even went so far as 
 to defame his character within hearing of their 
 boys, by slurring remarks. Boys do not need much 
 of that kind of encouragement — they took all that 
 for license, and were going to have some fun. 
 Many of them, however, had so little respect for 
 their officers that they were either indifferent or 
 merely curious. 
 
 Mr. Liton, on the other hand, was not left un- 
 informed, and knowing the circumstances, deter- 
 mined to keep absolutely cool, to say very little, and 
 to accomplish as much as possible. He took in the 
 entire situation with an eye half closed, and weighed 
 his conclusions carefully. 
 
 He was angry at himself when, a little later, while 
 arranging things in his room, he felt a growing 
 nervousness at the sound of the first bell ; but when 
 he saw twenty of the largest boys in the reformatory 
 march in quietly but with an occasional wink to 
 each other, he sobered up. Every muscle in his face 
 pulled tight and he gazed with an expression of "So 
 you think so, do you?" and it had the desired effect. 
 
 Mr. Liton arranged the books on his desk, 
 straightened out whatever about it was not straight 
 and acted with a familiarity worthy of a teacher of 
 experience and ability. Whatever fear he had was 
 hidden within him ; externally there was indifference 
 and absorption in the work before him. 
 
 "I understand," he began slowly, "that you have 
 been unfortunately losing a great deal of time. You
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 107 
 
 should be very much farther in your work than you 
 are. In the fcity High School we are very much 
 ahead of you. But we must lose no more time from 
 now on. It may take me a day or two to find out 
 just what you do and don't know. 
 
 "Our first lesson this morning will be in Ancient 
 History. I know that you have already begun to 
 study it, but to make sure that we understand each 
 other, I want to begin from the very beginning, and 
 whatever you show me that you know well enough 
 we shall spend little time on. 
 
 '"Have you ever asked yourselves just why we 
 should spend our valuable time studying history — 
 why we should study about these people who lived so 
 long ago, did their work good or bad, and disap- 
 peared?" 
 
 "I don't think there is a real good reason," said 
 one fellow. 
 
 "Because we should know what our ancestors 
 did — that is education," said another. 
 
 "Who invented the steamboat?" asked Mr. Liton. 
 
 "Robert Fulton," several answered at one time. 
 
 "Did Robert Fulton invent one of those floating 
 palaces that rush across the ocean from New York 
 to Liverpool in a few days?" 
 
 "No," answered a tall fellow, smiling, "he in- 
 vented a rickety old thing that crawled up the 
 Hudson." 
 
 "How, then, did we get to the floating palaces?" 
 Mr. Liton called upon a very thoughtful-looking 
 fellow seated in back of the room apart from the 
 others. 
 
 "Every generation," he began, and Mr. Liton 
 heard a whisper from some part of the room to the
 
 108 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 effect that Mr. Dictionary had begun 1o speak, but 
 paid no attention to it, ''improved a little upon it. 
 The first generation made it a little better than Ful- 
 ton, some one in the next generation made it still 
 better, and so on." He sat down. 
 
 "Exactly. Now, then, who can tell me just what 
 made each of these inventors improve a little upon 
 what the previous one did?" 
 
 These were questions that anybody who could 
 think at all could answer, and nobody stood any 
 chance of making a fool of himself, and so every- 
 body in the room wanted to answer. Interest was 
 aroused, dictionary men were left alone, and the 
 boys actually forgot that they had a new teacher, 
 and that any fun was to be gotten from that fact. 
 There was quite a little flutter of hands and Mr. 
 Liton, delighted with the excitement, called upon a 
 little fellow who was almost out of his seat with the 
 desire to have his small hand reach as far as that of 
 his bigger fellows. 
 
 "The first man after Fulton," he began, "studied 
 Fulton's old boat and found that he could make it 
 better. He invented a number of small parts that 
 made it better and so did the others." 
 
 "Well, then," went on Mr. Liton, "the whole 
 world of people is just like that boat." He was in- 
 terrupted by another flutter of hands, and called on 
 another fellow. 
 
 "I know why we should study history," he 
 blurted out in fear that some one might get ahead of 
 him. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "So that like the fellows that studied Fulton's old
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 109 
 
 boat, we should study how the people before us did 
 everything, so we can do things better." 
 
 "Very good. But not only how they did things, 
 but how they thought and acted towards each other. 
 People, by studying those that lived before them and 
 themselves, began to act less cruelly toward each 
 other; they began to live cleaner and think and work 
 more, and, in short, they improved their condition. 
 They saw the mistakes their fathers made and 
 stopped making them themselves. For instance, 
 once upon a time, men were put into jail and even 
 killed for being in debt, for owing another man 
 some money. Then the world began to see that it 
 did not stop people from getting into debt; that they 
 got into debt because they had to. So they were 
 ashamed of their fathers who killed men for it, and 
 stopped it." 
 
 Many instances of how the world became wiser 
 and better were cited by different boys, and Mr. 
 Liton finally called on some one to make a statement 
 that would be good to use as an answer to the 
 question, "Why do we study history?" and the boy 
 called Mr. Dictionary, sitting in back of the room, 
 offered to do so. 
 
 "We study history," said he, "that we should 
 learn the mistakes our forefathers made and avoid 
 making them ourselves, thus improving the race," 
 and every boy agreed that that was a good answer 
 and wrote it down in his note book. 
 
 Mi-. Liton then went on with the beginning of 
 history. He drew a very vivid mental picture of 
 our barbarous ancestors, making their way down 
 from the unknown central Asia to India and Greece. 
 Then he returned to the barbarians on their way to
 
 110 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 India. A discussion was held, from which was de- 
 veloped the fact that these barbarous people were in 
 the main shepherds, that that occupation filled them 
 with "wunderlust," and led them to go farther and 
 farther, even encroaching upon the lands of their 
 less strong neighbors. 
 
 The response on the part of the boys was a 
 stimulant to Mr. Liton, who was bubbling over with 
 enthusiasm himself, and when he found himself, 
 swinging naturally and noiselessly to Algebra and 
 English Literature, and when he saw that these little 
 criminals were waxing hotter and hotter with enthu- 
 siasm as they went along, his delight was most in- 
 tense, for he realized that his success was made ; and 
 at noon, when Miss Britter informed him that the 
 boys were wild with excitement, spreading the 
 rumor that they now had the best teacher they ever 
 had had, he said: "There is no telling what 
 wonders these boys will yet show. I never had so 
 bright a class."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 NEW FORCES 
 
 Kaiky and Skinny, whose real names were re- 
 spectively Richard (or Dick) Kennen, and Ludwig 
 (or Lud) Dampfel, were detained only one week in 
 quarantine, and, after the desired discharge was 
 made by Mr. Sarving, they were taken, like all the 
 rest of the newcomers, to Cottage One. 
 
 Michael was beside himself for joy. Every 
 moment of freedom was spent together, on the pile 
 of stones, in a corner of the playground, in the base- 
 ment, or at recess on the fence back of the school 
 grounds. 
 
 They were seated on the pile of stones one after- 
 noon a few days later, and talking things over in a 
 confidential manner, when Mr. Bloate, to whom 
 such conduct spelled conspiracy, approached. 
 
 "Mike," he called out, "come here! Did you 
 patch them stockings?" 
 
 "No, sir, Mrs. Bloate has us do that after play 
 time." 
 
 "Play time nothing. You should have done that 
 yesterday, after play time." 
 
 "I wanted to, but I had lots of other things to do 
 then, too," said Michael, angrily, feeling that this 
 was but a pretext to keep him from his friends. 
 
 "Too bad about you. You'd better stand on line 
 for the rest of the afternoon." 
 
 "I did have other things to do, and Mrs. Bloate 
 told me to do them," said Michael, crying.
 
 112 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Back talk again!" cried Mr. Bloate, "William, 
 you see that this fellow stands on line for the rest of 
 the week." 
 
 Poor Michael swallowed his anger, wiped a few 
 tears off his cheeks, and stood himself up with his 
 face to the wall, and his back to the playground and 
 the boys. Was ever a boy's lot more bitter! 
 
 Kaiky and Skinny who had introduced them- 
 selves to the boys as Dick and Lud, were very angry 
 at this, but remained where they were on the pile 
 of stones, until Father Bloate disappeared, taking 
 William with him ; then they stole up towards Mike 
 with the intention of keeping him company. 
 
 "Look out for 'im," Michael warned. 
 
 But they didn't look out, and he came out and 
 caught them. He merely looked at them, however, 
 until they crawled away, then returned to his work 
 inside. But Father Bloate was of the opinion that 
 there was a conspiracy there to run away, and 
 watched. Sure enough, they were trying to get 
 back again. He watched from a tiny hole in the 
 window blind of one of the basement windows. 
 
 Dick worried a little about this playing with fire, 
 and soon went off with some of the other boys to 
 play a game of handball ; but Skinny Lud was more 
 faithful and, despite the warnings of his friend, 
 thinking that his own weakness would protect him 
 now as usual, remained with Michael and continued 
 the conversation, exchanging dirty cigarette picture 
 cards, with which they had played. 
 
 Father Bloate was determined to fix the "kid." 
 He made his way out through the front door and 
 crept along the side of the wall. A boy who saw 
 what was coming turned his back on the scene
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 113 
 
 and yelled "Cheese it!"' But poor Lud was too busy 
 to take the warning. One of the little pictures had 
 fallen to the ground and he stooped to pick it up. 
 Before he could rise again, Bloate's hand was upon 
 his neck, and he was dragged down into the base- 
 ment, and from there into the engine room, the most 
 popularly hated corner of each cottage. Shutting 
 the door so that no amount of crying might penetrate 
 and reach any ears without, Father Bloate grabbed a 
 broken broomstick and commenced the first and 
 most terrible beating in all Skinny's underfed life.* 
 He begged and screamed and danced, but of no avail. 
 Then he feigned a fainting spell, and finally fainted 
 in earnest. So weak had his little system always 
 been that a hard slap or a twist of his arm was often 
 enough to make him faint. Skinny fainted, and, 
 had some kindly spirit been about, to direct the 
 course of things with a philanthropic purpose, 
 Skinny would never have awakened from his faint. 
 But the spirit of destiny is neither wise nor kind, and 
 Skinny did awake — a different kind of a boy. All 
 the playfulness was beaten out of him, and now he 
 was truly sick — sick in mind and body. 
 
 Out doors, the few who had their play lime that 
 day wore gathered into a line once more, wailing for 
 those who scrubbed and cleaned and dusted to leave 
 their dirty rags, to wipe their wet and chapped 
 hands, and fall in with them, to straighten up in 
 spite of aching backs and knees, and to join the soul- 
 killing marches to the flag-pole and dining room. 
 
 Al the supper table, Ludwig ale very little. His 
 yellow face bore the expression of his share of the 
 
 "See newspaper articles in appendix.
 
 114 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 world's misery, and was not only weak-looking but 
 sad, making one feel that, if he only dared to, he 
 would cry again and keep on crying, for the bitter- 
 ness was still heavy upon his little heart. Mrs. 
 Bloate was a woman, and the maternal spark still 
 left smouldering within her heart by the artificial 
 relations she had felt and kept towards these outcast 
 children, was awakened. She walked towards him 
 and told him to eat more. She brought him a nice 
 little cake that she had procured from the staff 
 tables, and not one of the boys about him was jeal- 
 ous of the act. In fact, all those boys would have 
 given him the very best they could conceive of had 
 that been possible, they were so sorry for him. 
 
 After supper, and when out on the heap of stones, 
 Michael and Dick and all the rest of the boys of 
 Cottage One who were not cleaning up the dining 
 room and kitchen, gathered about him, and tried in 
 their childish ways to make him forget his troubles, 
 till Father Bloate came out and told Michael and 
 several others to attend to their mending. 
 
 The bell on the front door of Cottage One rang, 
 and Mrs. Bloate went to answer it. 
 
 Mr. Liton greeted her with a pleasant "Good 
 evening," when she opened the door, and she half- 
 heartedly smiled in reply. 
 
 "Mrs. Bloate," he began, "I have come to or- 
 ganize your cottage into a club. May I have the 
 boys in the sitting room?" 
 
 "Oh, no," said Mrs. Bloate, "we have a lot of 
 mending to do tonight, and I can't bother with clubs 
 just now." 
 
 "But you needn't bother at all, Mrs. Bloate, I will 
 attend to that. I merely want the boys. I would
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 115 
 
 be very glad to have your cooperation, but if it is a 
 bother to you, I can attend to it myself." 
 
 "They had a club anyway, and nothin' came of it 
 — they don't care enough about it." 
 
 "That isn't the point, Mrs. Bloate. Mr. Kram- 
 mer has asked me to organize all the cottages, and 
 has ordered all to cooperate with me. If you don't 
 wish to work with me, why leave it to me, but it's 
 got to be done." 
 
 "Many of the boys aren't home now; they are 
 detailed in the dining room." 
 
 "The Colonel promised to detain none of the boys 
 of Cottage One to-night. They ought to be here." 
 
 "Well they're not." 
 
 "Then I will go back and get them, and will 
 return in about fifteen minutes." 
 
 Mr. Liton soon returned with the missing boys, 
 and William ordered all to "fall in" to be marched 
 into the sitting room. 
 
 The sitting room, like those in all the other 
 cottages, was divided into halves by the unused fire- 
 place in the center of the longest wall. Curtains 
 covered the windows, and mission picture frames, 
 in harmony with the mission furniture, hung upon 
 the walls, enclosing a few old-time sentimental 
 pictures and one large print — a portrait of Wash- 
 ington. The room in general was very neat and 
 rich-looking, so that the sallow faces, the somewhat 
 ragged clothes and the wet eyes that formed a semi- 
 circular mass about Mr. Liton and his little table. 
 seemed very much out of place. William stood in 
 tin' rear with a long stick in his hand and any boy 
 that did anything not to his liking, he punished by
 
 116 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 a whack with that stick. This was done several 
 times before Mr. Liton lost his patience. 
 
 "William," he said, "I don't know what you may 
 have been accustomed to do at other meetings; but 
 you will please leave the boys entirely in my charge 
 when I'm in the room." 
 
 "I want you to feel," he began addressing the 
 club with a sincere appealing expression on his 
 face, "that this is your meeting and to be your club 
 when organized. During these meetings you are to 
 forget the meaning of superiority. You are as good 
 as I am and I am as good as you are. We are all 
 citizens and brothers. If I am bigger than you are, 
 I am merely a big brother. You must feel free to 
 ask all the questions you like, and to say just what 
 you want to say. But, you know, that at all meet- 
 ings that men hold they do not talk all at once, be- 
 cause nothing could ever be done if they did. If 
 you wish to say something, ask for the "floor," and 
 one at a time you will have the chance to say what 
 you please. Of course, too, if any boy talks to his 
 neighbor, it will be hard for the rest of us to hear 
 what's going on, so you will please not do that. 
 
 "Now, to-night we have two things to do, this 
 being our first meeting. We must get to understand 
 what this club is for, and then we must organize — 
 elect officers, so that next week some time we can 
 begin to do our real work. The purpose of this club 
 is to unite all the boys into a republic, and this 
 republic is to exist for the benefit of every boy. That 
 is, with it you will have the chance to do a great 
 many things for your own good and happiness. 
 We want to learn more ; and we want to have more 
 fun and good times ; and we want to do many other
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 117 
 
 interesting things. We can have a literary com- 
 mittee that can arrange for parties, with recitations 
 and readings, and debates. I should like to see yon 
 publish a school magazine. This committee, too, 
 can see about that. You can write stories and 
 poems, and publish them. With a magazine you 
 could do many other things, but we'll talk about 
 that later, or let you do your own thinking about it. 
 We can also have an athletic committee that can 
 make arrangements for ball games and athletic 
 sports in general. 
 
 "We will have a council made up of a represen- 
 tative from each cottage and class room, that will 
 fight for the interests of the boys, try to avoid 
 reports where possible, and help them in a thousand 
 ways. 
 
 "I think most of the trouble in this world comes 
 from somebody's not understanding something 
 somebody else said or did. A boy gets into trouble at 
 school very often, not because he is mean or wants 
 to do what is wrong, but because he doesn't under- 
 stand something the teacher wants. If teachers, 
 cottage parents and boys understood what was 
 wrong between them, we would have no reports and 
 no trouble. This council will look into all the trou- 
 bles between the teachers and the boys and will see 
 that both understand each other, and in that way, 
 wherever possible, keep reports away. 
 
 ' When you show Mr. Krammer that you like 
 your republic and will live up to your constitution 
 and all its by-laws, which you will make as agree- 
 ments between each other and the officers for every- 
 body's good, he will let you go out with us for long 
 walks in the woods, and will let you do many other
 
 118 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 things that you can't do now. Perhaps we can get 
 a photography outfit. I can teach you how to take 
 pictures, so that we can take our cameras with us 
 on these walks, make pictures of the scenery about 
 this place, and then hang them up in our class rooms 
 and cottages. We can do many, many interesting 
 things, and you will be a happy set of boys if you 
 work for this republic and help it grow strong. You 
 must think of it all the time and work for it every 
 chance you get. It will be yours, and everything you 
 do for it you will be doing for yourselves. By you, 
 in this case, I mean all of you boys." 
 
 Every face beamed with new life, and every eye 
 flashed with excitement, every little soul bubbled 
 with enthusiasm and hope. Some rose to give their 
 ideas, others, unable to contain themselves bent over 
 to tell their important plans to their neighbors, while 
 many, whipped into stupidity, sat, their faces 
 flushed, contented to let their neighbors plan that 
 they might do whatever was bid. 
 
 The club was named and organized. A strong 
 set of officers was elected, and Mr. Liton expressed 
 his regret at having to go, and wished them "Good 
 night." 
 
 He was answered by more than thirty individual 
 "good nights" and a round of applause that lasted 
 till he was outside of that cottage and on his way 
 to the next. 
 
 It made no difference what cottage he went to, 
 one reputed as bad, or another ordinarily good, all 
 responded alike — with overwhelming enthusiasm. 
 
 "They were nice with me the first day, too," Mr. 
 Liton repeated to himself, and laughed. It was not 
 the first day only that made Miss Brand and others
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 119 
 
 wonder how he did it. The terrible High School 
 class that had been uncontrollable responded with 
 almost sentimental emotion. The boys loved Mr. 
 Liton, and when visitors came next Sunday, they 
 were asked to look sharp at the "young man over 
 there," because he was the "best man that ever came 
 to that institution," and this was the boy's own opin- 
 ion against the defaming attempts of their superiors. 
 The Republic, the photographic class, the magazine 
 — nothing else was talked about. Parents were asked 
 to bring small cameras, pencils and special kinds 
 of copy books for stories and poems, and many boys 
 spent much of their time writing them, for before 
 long the editorial desk was packed with manu- 
 scripts. 
 
 The organizing week had passed, and three hun- 
 dred and more boys were organized into the Repub- 
 lic of Abolt, with committees to draw up the con- 
 stitution and by-laws ; and the following Friday af- 
 ternoon was the day set for a popular meeting for 
 the adoption of the constitution. 
 
 The Committee on Constitution worked very 
 hard, and at the meeting on Thursday evening, in 
 Mr. Liton's class room, it was completed, but so 
 busily had they been working there that no one 
 thought of the hour till the first bugle blew. 
 
 "Gome boys, we must hurry out or we'll be late," 
 said Mr. Liton; but hardly had he finished the sen- 
 tence when the door broke open and the inspiring 
 figure of the Colonel kept back the draught. 
 "Do you know that it's late?" he shouted. 
 "It is not late yet — we are going now," returned 
 Mr. Liton.
 
 120 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Out doors the autumn night was cool, calm and 
 very dark. The sky was covered with myriads of 
 bright stars and the valleys were filled with shadows. 
 The boys shrugged their shoulders, thrust their 
 hands into their pockets, and instinctively started 
 on a hop and run. 
 
 One boy would ring the front door bell, as soon 
 as they reached a cottage, and announce the num- 
 ber of boys returned, and the boys announced would 
 run down the side path to the rear of the cottage, 
 where they belonged. 
 
 "Strange," thought Mr. Liton, "these cottages 
 were erected as homes for these boys, yet only the 
 rear of every cottage belongs to them — for their 
 use. The beautiful entrance in front they never 
 use." 
 
 "Good night, Mr. Liton, thank you," was called 
 out at each cottage, as many times as there were 
 boys returned. 
 
 "Where is George?" demanded Mrs. Gallwin, 
 when they arrived at her cottage. 
 
 "George has been with us at our council meet- 
 ing; he is here now." 
 
 "This cannot happen any more, I won't have it. 
 That's all there is to it." 
 
 "Since you talk that way, Mrs. Gallwin, I have 
 nothing to say to you." 
 
 "You will say something to-morrow," she thun- 
 dered back. 
 
 Mr. Liton paid no more attention to her, but con- 
 tinued the round, explaining to the remaining num- 
 ber of boys what the Milky Way was, where to find 
 the Dipper, and a number of other things that proved 
 him to be a very wise man, in their opinions.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 121 
 
 The last boy was finally taken to his cottage and 
 Mr. Liton, alone, turned and started back towards the 
 school. Before he had gone many steps, he was met 
 by the Colonel. 
 
 "Mr. Liton," began Colonel Reilly, "those lights 
 are in your room, ain't they?" 
 
 "Yes, I guess they are." 
 
 "Well, they shouldn't be left on." 
 
 "I'm going back now, I'll turn them out," 
 
 "Mr. Liton, do you know them boys must be 
 home by the first bugle?" 
 
 "I know all that," 
 
 "Y'didn't this evening." 
 
 "I will see that we get out before the first bugle, 
 but you must give them to me in time." 
 
 "I give them to you when I can." 
 
 "That doesn't mean anything. You gave them to 
 me this evening three quarters of an hour later than 
 you promised to give them to me — we have an hour 
 and a half altogether." 
 
 "We'll have to settle that some other way," he 
 grunted, and turned to go. "We can't bother with 
 thai club business altogether. You ain't the first one 
 that's tried it here." 
 
 Mr. Liton turned out the lights in his room and 
 in flic hallway, and filled that hallway with the 
 sound of his lonely slcps on his way out. 
 
 "Goin' Ik I he village?" asked Mr. Grames, the 
 dining room man, when he saw Mr. Liton take the 
 path down the valley. 
 
 "Yes, I am. Are you?" 
 
 "Sure! Let's go together," said Mr. Grames. 
 
 "Good! Going for a walk?" 
 
 "A walk? No, I'm going for a drink and a smoke.
 
 122 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 They don't give you a chance to smoke on the 
 grounds — I don't know why." 
 
 "It's against the rules, is it?" 
 
 "Yes, but most of us don't care much about them 
 rules, believe me. We fellers work on the princi- 
 ple that so long you're not caught I guess it's all 
 right! Hey!" 
 
 "Have you been here long?" 
 
 "Just a week, but I know them institutions — I 
 came here from another one. They're all alike. I 
 got into a row with the principal over there and I 
 chucked up the job. First day I come here, I got 
 the job. That there superintendent of yourn is a 
 foxy feller — he's a down right smart feller. He saw 
 all right what he was gettin'. I may not be a dude, 
 but for teachin' plumbin' and makin' kids mind, 
 there ain't many like myself. Over at the last in- 
 stitution I worked, I did all their plumbin' for 'em 
 and they were down right sorry to see me go. From 
 the first down, I suppose in all the institutions I 
 worked for there is some pipe busted or other." Here 
 he started a hideous laughter that rang through the 
 woods. 
 
 "You have worked in several institutions then, 
 have you?" 
 
 "This is the fourth." 
 
 "You like to work in them?" 
 
 "Like to work in them?" He stopped to look at 
 Mr. Liton. "Naw — guess not. I wouldn't be here 
 now, if I could help it. I can make kids mind, but 
 I am tired of 'em. Sometimes I half murder 'em. 
 You got to watch them every minute, or they'll turn 
 on you. My hand here hurts yet from a whack I 
 gave one fellow this morning. They won't back talk
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 123 
 
 me much when they get to know me. No, I wouldn't 
 'a come here either makin' them little thieves scrub- 
 bin' floors and dishes — that ain't much of a job and 
 hasn't much advancement attached to it. I am a 
 plumber by trade, and he promised me the plumbin' 
 on the place and to teach them kids plumbin' at 
 seventy-five bucks a month. He isn't goin' to keep 
 me waitin' long for it either." 
 
 They reached a saloon near the village, and Mr. 
 Liton was invited to have a drink. 
 
 "No, thank you, I'm going down further," he 
 insisted. 
 
 He had hardly finished his sentence, when a boy 
 dressed in the institution suit issued from the saloon 
 carrying what seemed to be a large beer can wrapped 
 in a newspaper. The boy made for the woods and 
 was lost. 
 
 "See that fellow? He's the hospital boy. John 
 Downer'll be caught some day." 
 
 "Who is John Downer?" 
 
 "Downer's the engineer at the power house. He 
 sends this hospital boy for beer at night, when he's 
 supposed to be in bed, and Colonel Reilly makes be- 
 lieve he doesn't know it. They smoke there too, when 
 they ain't supposed to. Downer and that Henglish 
 nurse over there. That ain't right. I go for my 
 drink and my smoke when I want 'em."* 
 
 With this, he entered the saloon, and the discour- 
 aged teacher went on his way to Abolt. 
 
 He wandered about the single street a few mo- 
 ments, had a little ice cream, and made for a round- 
 about pathway to lengthen his way home. When he 
 
 •The practice referred to Is not uncommon.
 
 124 A HUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 reached the dark end of the village he felt some one 
 walking behind him, and turned half way about to 
 get an idea of what kind of a follower it might be. 
 
 "Going home, Mr. Liton?" asked a woman's voice. 
 
 "Yes, good evening, Miss Brand," said Mr. Liton 
 recognizing her. 
 
 "Good evening. Do you like this pathway, too?" 
 she asked fairly beaming in the darkness. "I just 
 love it, especially at night.*' 
 
 "Aren't you afraid?" 
 
 "Oh, no. Nobody wants to hurt me. Would 
 you?" 
 
 "I? I guess not." 
 
 "Oh, we never can tell who wants to hurt us, you 
 know. Our best friends sometimes do." 
 
 "Yes, taking it philosophically, I suppose I must 
 agree with you." 
 
 They walked on for a short distance quietly, then 
 Miss Brand ventured again, "You are not afraid to 
 walk home with me in the dark, are you?" 
 
 "Afraid of what?" 
 
 "Oh, I thought you might be conventional." 
 
 "No, I'm not conventional," he answered, smiling. 
 "I have a great deal of faith in my own opinions of 
 right and wrong, and as much as they may differ 
 with those of some others, I usually act upon them." 
 
 "So do I. I am afraid of nobody. What is this, 
 a swamp? Wouldn't it be nice if we got lost and 
 had to stay here all night?" 
 
 "Do you think it would be so very nice?" 
 
 "I wouldn't care. I'm just that kind, I wouldn't 
 care a bit."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 125 
 
 It was a great relief to see the reformatory lights ; 
 and when he finally got into his own room he threw 
 his hat down upon the table and sighed, "This is a 
 great place."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 NEW EFFECTS 
 
 The dawn of Friday morning forced its way 
 through a heavy moisture-laden atmosphere, and the 
 six o'clock bugle came in fairly dripping with rain. 
 Dark gray clouds gathered in the valleys and shut 
 out the view on either side. A heavy wind blew, 
 and the rain beat down upon the golden leaves it 
 tore from the trees on the roadsides and in the forest. 
 
 Like every other morning, in obedience to the call 
 of the bugle boy, the boys put on their thin canvas 
 jackets, pulled their canvas caps down upon their 
 eyes, and formed the line out doors in the rain.* 
 Their cottage father and mother, protected by rain 
 coats and umbrellas, stood beside them, waiting for 
 the next bugle call. What a sight to see the groups 
 pouring into the main roadway from each cottage, 
 all backs bent and every coat saturated. Mr. Liton 
 looked and was miserable. 
 
 "I am really ashamed to wear this," he thought 
 putting on his rain coat, then prompted by a second 
 and more forcible thought he pulled it off again. "No, 
 I will not. If they have to live through it, I shall, 
 
 too." 
 
 Hanging it up again, he started towards the flag- 
 pole. The air was very cool, and the rain drops 
 soon penetrated his clothes, but he felt a sort of re- 
 lief when he passed them. "They, standing with 
 
 "This senseless regulation exists in many reformatories.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 127 
 
 their backs bent, shivering in the wet and cold, will 
 not envy me at least." 
 
 In the warmer dining room the air was stifling. 
 The smell of so much wet clothes was very unappe- 
 tizing. Mr. Liton sat at the table without touching 
 the proverbial prunes, the disgusting platter of fa- 
 rina, over full, or the soggy bread and butter, and bad 
 eggs; and he gazed. The staff was served by boy 
 waiters, who enhanced their professional appear- 
 ance by hanging dirty towels from their belts; who 
 were more anxious about what the staff did not 
 eat than what they did eat, for as soon as one cot- 
 tage father or teacher left his or her seat some boy 
 waiter would dash to the place and appropriate what 
 prunes, egg, or coffee cake, when it was served, was 
 left untouched or half eaten. When the dining 
 room was cleared, they uncovered their spoils, car- 
 ried them to their tables and devoured them . 
 
 Mr. Liton was disgusted. He joined the rest of 
 the teaching force and all ran for the school build- 
 ing, to minimize the effects of the unceasing rain. 
 Boys here and there, through the mist, ran about 
 the grounds with bent backs, like shadows. 
 
 "Mr. Krammer," said Miss Britter to him later in 
 the day, "we are going to have a meeting this after- 
 noon for the adoption of the constitution of the re- 
 public Mr. Liton has formed, and would like to have 
 you present to hear it read and to say something 
 to the boys about it." 
 
 "Gladly. You send a boy into my office a few 
 minutes before you want me there, and I will come." 
 
 "This is to be a republic, the purpose of which, 
 according to your own wishes, is to be to teach the 
 hoys the value and meaning of self-government,
 
 128 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Don't you think it rather funny, Mr. Krammer, to 
 have the assembly watched by officers in uniform 
 at such a meeting?" 
 
 "Well, that can't be helped — we can't have them 
 run away." 
 
 "But I know they won't run away." 
 
 "You think you do, but I'm very much afraid you 
 don't. Wait till you have been in this business for 
 twenty years as I have." 
 
 "But, Mr. Krammer, I don't think it is fair to us, 
 either. We are in charge of the school. We are 
 organizing a republic. Why should we have to call 
 upon cottage fathers to act as police and help us do 
 our work? If we are strong enough or good enough 
 to take care of classes of them and clubs of them, 
 why can't we take charge of them in the assembly? 
 I for one refuse to be there if the officers are there. 
 I don't want the boys to feel that I am afraid of 
 them." 
 
 Mr. Krammer became very uneasy and almost 
 showed his anger; realizing, however, the import- 
 ance of controlling those feelings he turned to her 
 with a slight frown and said, "If you wish to try it 
 this afternoon, you may, but mark, Miss Britter, if 
 the least thing goes wrong you can never try it 
 again." 
 
 "I am more than willing to take the risk." 
 
 "All right, then. But think it over before you 
 act upon it. If they can't be kept quiet with officers 
 and sticks about, they surely will not be kept quiet 
 without them. You cannot make angels of them in 
 a week, nor in a year. You will learn that with more 
 experience. I have handled a good many boys in my 
 days."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 129 
 
 "Would you please ask Mr. Reilly to invite the 
 cottage parents as guests?" 
 "Certainly." 
 
 By noon the rainy day had changed into a gray 
 windy one, and before it was time to assemble, the 
 sun occasionally peeped out and cheered everything 
 up a bit, touching with light the golden hillsides. 
 
 What excitement! The officers, denied their du- 
 ties to stand guard in the assembly and watch, and 
 discourage, when possible, the foolish attempts to 
 make angels out of them, embittered as they were, 
 seemed overjoyed and hopeful, smiling and whis- 
 pering their expectations. "Half the boys at least 
 will run away." 
 
 Miss Britter visited every class room before the 
 meeting was to be held, and asked the boys whether 
 Ihey were anxious to go to this meeting. And, an- 
 swered enthusiastically in the affirmative, she said 
 to them, "This republic is to give you the chance to 
 govern yourselves like decent men. Are you going 
 to show us that you can govern yourselves? Are 
 you going to show us that you needn't be watched, 
 that you know enough to be quiet when it is neces- 
 sary to be quiet? Do you want Mr. Liton, who is 
 working very hard to arrange all kinds of interest- 
 ing things for you — who is giving up all of his time 
 to make you happier, do you want him to go on with 
 his work? Do you want to have the magazine, the 
 photography classes, and the walks in the woods? 
 Then let us see that you do by the way you act this 
 afternoon. Lot us see whether you aren't sensible 
 enough to help yourselves. I am going to depend 
 on you then. To show you that you are going to 
 your own club meeting for your own good, I am
 
 130 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 going to abolish the 'hip' business in your march- 
 ing down. You may march out quietly, in an ordi- 
 nary full step walk and do the same below." 
 
 The boys were wild with excitement. Something 
 surely was happening about the place. A happier 
 time was surely coming, and they worshipped Miss 
 Britter and Mr. Liton, who seemed to be the cause 
 of it all. 
 
 Never before did they march down so quietly and 
 so orderly. Some of the boys shoved out their 
 chests, pressed their outstreched arms close against 
 their sides, to make sure that it be seen how anxi- 
 ous they were to do what was right, growing red 
 in the face doing it; and marched down on tip-toes. 
 
 They were soon settled quietly in the assembly 
 room, surprised and greatly honored to see no po- 
 liceman about. 
 
 The representatives proudly took the seats pro- 
 vided for them, each filled with the importance of 
 being a representative of a whole cottage or a 
 whole class room, while their respective fellows 
 were glad to see the particular boy they voted for 
 given a seat on the platform. 
 
 Miss Britter spoke first : 
 
 "Boys," she began, "We are met to-day to estab- 
 lish a republic. That is we are determined to make 
 ourselves happier and stronger in mind and body. 
 We are determined to have more fun, learn more, 
 and govern ourselves. We are to make laws, agree- 
 ments between ourselves and those who work with 
 us, for the good of everybody. People can not live 
 together without coming to an agreement about 
 things that they may or may not do. Two men go 
 into business and draw up certain laws that each
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 131 
 
 will have to obey for the good of the establishment. 
 There are many things we want to do, that may 
 make trouble for others, and the things others want 
 to do may make trouble for us — make us unhappy. 
 To avoid that, we draw up sets of laws that pro- 
 hibit us from doing things that will interfere with 
 the people with whom we have to live, and if every- 
 body lives up to those laws, and nothing is done 
 that is harmful to anybody, everybody can be 
 happy." 
 
 She then went on telling them what interesting 
 things they were planning for, until the door opened 
 and Mr. Kra miner came in and took his seat, a sur- 
 prised individual. 
 
 She went on. running over the day's programme 
 very rapidly, and announcing that Mr. Staver, a 
 cottage father, had brought his talking machine 
 and some very beautiful musical records for their 
 pleasure. 
 
 Mr. Staver placed a record of a violin solo on the 
 machine, and the concert began. 
 
 It was a revelation to even the most radical and 
 optimistic believer in reformation to see that silent 
 assembly of boys, listening, with eyes fixed on one 
 point, or half, or all. closed. One little fellow came 
 from a home where they loved music and had heard 
 I his very solo, and it brought recollections thai were 
 very painful to him — he cried. 
 
 Several other solos were played, the boys ap- 
 plauding very warmly, and their attention was then 
 directed to the real purpose of the meeting. The 
 secretary nf the council arose and called the role of 
 representatives. One member of the council moved 
 tlml Mi-. Lit mi be asked to read the constitution that
 
 132 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 everybody in the room be able to bear it, and the mo- 
 tion was carried. 
 
 The constitution outlined the different divisions 
 of government, which resembled as much as possi- 
 ble that of the government of the United States. 
 The preamble declared the purpose of the republic 
 to be — Self-Government. The executive department 
 was to consist of the body of cottage presidents. 
 The legislative department was to consist of one rep- 
 resentative from each cottage and each class room. 
 This body was to be called the "Council." Aside 
 from creating laws, the work of the legislative de- 
 partment was to act as a sort of judicial body to try 
 all cases of boys charged with working against the 
 republic or neglecting the duties it imposed upon 
 them. 
 
 There were to be two committees. A literary 
 committee was to provide literary programmes for 
 festivals and meetings, arrange debates and promote 
 the possibilities of a magazine, and when such a 
 magazine was published, get material for it from the 
 citizens at large. An athletic committee was to ar- 
 range for athletic sports for the physical develop- 
 ment of all the citizens, especially those who are 
 most in need of it. 
 
 All laws made by the legislature must be first en- 
 dorsed by the executive department, then submitted 
 to the superintendent for his approval, and finally 
 voted upon by the citizens. 
 
 The council formally submitted the constitu- 
 tion to the executive department, which body voted 
 for it unanimously, and then submitted it to Mr. 
 Krammer for his approval.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 133 
 
 Mr. Krammer said that, as far as he could see at 
 the time, he had no objection to it. He thought it 
 was very good and hoped that it would be adopted 
 and respected. He told the boys that he had long- 
 hoped for such a republic and that now that it was 
 about to be realized, he was very happy. 
 
 The chairman of the council then rose and, 
 offering the constitution to the citizens at large, re- 
 quested those who were in favor of adopting it as 
 it stood to rise. 
 
 Every boy was on his feet, immediately. The 
 constitution was unanimously adopted, and the by- 
 laws were promised by the committee that was to 
 draw them up for the following Friday afternoon 
 meeting. 
 
 Mr. Krammer left the room. 
 
 Mr. Liton then got up and made a few very en- 
 thusiastic remarks on the work accomplished, and 
 concluded with an appeal to every boy to write 
 something for the first number of the magazine, 
 which he hoped would be out within a few weeks. 
 
 The boys were then left in charge of the disap- 
 pointed officers who had been sent for, and he 
 went to see the superintendent. 
 
 "How did you like it, Mr. Krammer?" 
 
 "Very well, indeed." 
 
 "Mr. Krammer, I have come to tell you what ex- 
 periences I had in trying to find a printer." 
 
 "What were those experiences?" 
 
 "I went all over town. All but one wanted for- 
 ty dollars each month; the one offered to turn out 
 a very beautiful magazine of sixteen pages for 
 twenty-five dollars."
 
 134 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Impossible! No use of thinking about it." 
 
 "How much did you think it would cost?" 
 
 "Oh, I thought it would amount to about ten 
 dollars. I could possibly give ten dollars out of my 
 salary for such a purpose, but twenty-five is out of 
 the question." 
 
 "Suppose we make up the rest of it, would you 
 give us the ten dollars each month?" 
 
 "Yes, as I said, I will do that, but I can't possi- 
 bly give another cent." 
 
 "Some of the boys suggested selling them to 
 their parents." 
 
 "Oh, no, we mustn't do that." 
 
 "One boy suggested that they all give up their 
 good behavior money." 
 
 "Let's see, that is so. They get ten cents a month 
 for good behavior — we have a fund for that — and 
 I suppose they have the right to do what they want 
 with what they earn that way. It amounts to 
 about fifteen dollars a month, too. Well, if they 
 are willing, we can do that." 
 
 "Good, we'll put it to a vote at our next meet- 
 ing." 
 
 "I guess that's satisfactory." 
 
 Mr. Liton passed out, a very happy man. He 
 hurried to Miss Britter's office to tell her the good 
 news, and started for his own room to plan his work 
 for the following week. Mr. Reilly was standing 
 near a hall window, watching a cottage father out- 
 doors, when Mr. Liton was about to enter his class 
 room. 
 
 "That's a mighty big piece of power you have 
 taken to yourself, Mr. Liton," said the Colonel, sar- 
 castically.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 135 
 
 "I dont know what you mean." 
 
 "Well, may be you don't. We'll have a tough 
 proposition here if you're going to make them kids 
 think any more of what you have made them think 
 already." 
 
 "I don't know what you are referring to, and if 
 you want me to answer you, you will have to tell 
 me what it is." 
 
 "Them kids think that no officer, even I, can give 
 them a report now, since you and your republic 
 won't let any one do that. And I'm going to give 
 a couple of them a good big dose to wake them up." 
 
 "Nonsense. Our Republic made no such ar- 
 rangements, and I am willing to say that no boy 
 was ever mistaken on that point to such an extent." 
 
 "You are willing to say it all right, but I have 
 proof against you, and there are several cottage par- 
 ents to witness to it." 
 
 "I see. You have already been collecting evi- 
 dence and are expecting a trial. However, tell me 
 how you became aware of this idea." 
 
 "I didn't have to do any collectin' of evidence; 
 it came right plump to me and will come to anybody 
 else that cares to find out. That dictionary fool in 
 your class, that conceited Ernest Andree, thinks 
 he can come around and tell me what to do, since 
 you have discovered him as a genius. He calls Mr. 
 Saunders a liar because he knows the republic 
 won't let him get a report for back talk." 
 
 "Is that what he said, or it is your interpreta- 
 tion of it?" 
 
 'I'm not being cross-examined by you nor by 
 any one else. I fixed him, and he'll be scrubbin' 
 kitchen floors for a month or so, and you take it
 
 136 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 from me, he'll be a better citizen than your club 
 will ever make him." 
 
 "I want you to remember, Mr. Reilly, that though 
 I wasn't going to cross-examine you, some of the 
 boys will be cross-examined for good reasons, and 
 I for one won't let any cottage father or any one 
 else for that matter, conspire against that republic 
 without proving a few side issues. You have set 
 yourselves against that republic when you ought to 
 work for it — we are all working for the benefit of 
 the school. I want to work with you and not 
 against you. I don't see why you should want to 
 work against me." 
 
 "I don't want to work against the republic or 
 you, but you are new in the business, and think 
 that you know more about it than anybody else. 
 You don't know that it has been tried several times 
 before, and has always been a complete failure and 
 will be this time too. I'm against its makin' matters 
 worse." 
 
 "If you have always acted as you people act 
 now, I don't wonder that it always has been a fail- 
 ure. I feel that you are all against this republic 
 because of — . Well, the reasons are more famil- 
 iar to you than to me. Because you heard that 
 Ernest is considered by us a genius, and that we in- 
 tend to have him elected as editor of the magazine ; 
 you and his cottage father, Mr. Saunders, have con- 
 spired against him, and he is now scrubbing floors 
 because he knows too much." 
 
 "You are dreaming all that in your own head. 
 I laugh at your republic because you think it's go- 
 in' to amount to anything. The magazine you talk 
 about — huh, you have no magazine yet!"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 137 
 
 "You leave that to me." 
 
 "The whole trouble with you, Mr. Liton," began 
 the Colonel somewhat more softly, "is that you don't 
 know much about these angels of yours, and you're 
 makin' it tougher for us." 
 
 "I am making it tougher for you because you 
 don't treat them right and we do, and they respect 
 us more. That's the trouble." 
 
 "They'll respect you another week or so and then 
 you'll learn a thing or two." 
 
 "That is possible, if you keep on working 
 against us; but not without a good stiff fight on 
 our part, let us assure you." 
 
 "You don't know these fellows, that's the trou- 
 ble with you. You don't know how they steal. 
 These boys here are the slickest thieves you ever 
 saw. If you knew the system they have of rob- 
 bing the storehouse of provisions and what not, 
 without my being able to stop it with all my watch- 
 ing and punishing! Last week they stole the 
 key to the store room and got away with all man- 
 ner of things, and all of us watching. After vis- 
 itor's day I can expect all kinds of money passed 
 around, and some of those angels in your class room 
 are the slickest thieves of all. Do you see that Tif- 
 ton in your class room? Why we trusted him and 
 had him watch other boys, and everybody would 
 have sworn Id his honesty. I caught him with the 
 goods yesterday, and found that during the past 
 year, when I had him watch at the gate to keep 
 children from coming in with visitors, he actually 
 begged from most of his friends coming in, and 
 during the year supplied any boy that wanted to run 
 away with carfare to the city. You don't know
 
 138 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 them, I tell you. They are nothing hut a bunch of 
 little thieves, every one of them." 
 
 Mr. Liton laughed very heartily, to the exasper- 
 ation of the Colonel, "Don't you think that proves 
 them to be bright, Mr. Reilly? But look here. If 
 those boys were fed decently they wouldn't be steal- 
 ing in -the store house. If they were not treated 
 as some of our friends treat them, they wouldn't 
 want to run away and wouldn't have to steal or beg 
 to be able to do it, I think they are very bright, 
 and with the right treatment that brightness could 
 make good men of them." 
 
 The Colonel looked at him as if he were crazy, 
 then without saying a word, turned and walked 
 away. 
 
 Mr. Liton fixed up his class room, and went 
 to look for his friends, whom he found in Miss 
 Britter's office. 
 
 "Did you hear what happened to poor Ernest?" 
 Nida asked him as soon as he entered the office. 
 
 "I heard that he was put to scrubbing the kitchen 
 floor." 
 
 "They positively hate that boy," said Rolan, 
 "I have seen many instances of that." 
 
 "Does he give them the dreaded back talk, or 
 what is the matter?" 
 
 "He is too frank. He says what he thinks, re- 
 gardless of what may result. He is extremely pre- 
 cocious. He knows more than most of his teachers, 
 and so much more than his cottage parents that 
 they dislike him for it. Mr. Krammer has always 
 kept him in his office to do a great deal of his office 
 work, which he can do, as Mr. Krammer himself 
 told me, better than either Lapin or Miss Trunch;
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 139 
 
 now they have succeeded in raking up charges 
 against him to suit Krammer, and to spite us, have 
 detailed him to the kitchen, where all will join 
 hands in revenging upon him." 
 
 "Let's go for a walk." 
 
 "I'm good for a long one." 
 
 "So am I. Let's go to Hilldale in our round- 
 about way, and have dinner there this evening." 
 
 They struck the path and hurried down at break 
 neck speed, soon finding themselves in the heart 
 of the autumn worn valley. The red and gold and 
 old green still lit up the neighborhood, but many 
 trees were already leafless, and, in spite of the sun- 
 lit afternoon, there was an ominous feeling of win- 
 ter hovering about the valley and hanging down 
 from the hills. 
 
 "How beautiful it is here!" 
 
 "It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen," 
 said Nida, "and were it not for dining room and oth- 
 er conditions, I should be willing to live and die 
 here. To tell the truth, if I stay here much longer 
 I shall die, willingly or not. I was very sick again 
 this morning, I thought surely, I was going." 
 
 "Why don't you see the doctor about it?" 
 
 "I saw several of them, six months ago. They 
 told me that the country was much better for me 
 than the city, that I must drink plenty of milk and 
 eat many eggs, and that my room should be well 
 heated and well ventilated in the winter time. 
 What's the use of hearing all that over again. You 
 can't do any more than listen to it. And if you note 
 carefully, you will find that it's the kind of advice 
 that is given to consumptives."
 
 140 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Oh, that advice holds good for a million dif- 
 ferent illnesses." 
 
 "Isn't it disgusting?"' said Rolan. "We have more 
 than thirty cows on the farm and we can't have a 
 glass of milk a day." 
 
 "Don't you know why?" asked Miss Britter. 
 "The Superintendent, who has none hut himself and 
 wife to look after, needs eighteen quarts of milk a 
 day." 
 
 "What on earth do they do with eighteen 
 quarts?" 
 
 "Take off the cream for their own use, and fatten 
 their own little piggies on the rest." 
 
 "It's all a joke isn't it?" laughed Mr. Liton. 
 "Thousands of dollars donated to reform boys goes 
 to help a staff of officers to fat jobs. I have just 
 tried to figure out the workings of this institution, 
 and it is laughable to see what a farce it is. The 
 best of everything for the officers and the poorest 
 of everything for the boys, and the world cries 
 about the thousands of dollars spent on reforma- 
 tion, unsuccessfully." 
 
 "Why not? The world gets its information 
 from the superintendent's annual report, which 
 tells how much is being done for these boys — how 
 wonderfully ideal the institution is kept. Some 
 philanthropists take the trouble to investigate. 
 They herald their coming, and the place is fixed 
 up for the occasion, boys are taken out of the 
 "coops" and hospital, handcuffs are hidden, the 
 officers forget their swearing and chewing of 
 tobacco, or smoking against the rules, and the 
 philanthropists find everything as represented in 
 the annual report, and donate some more money;
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 141 
 
 then go back home and read statistics, which 
 show that most of the boys come back to the 
 institution time after time, and deduce, quite natur- 
 ally that the boys are incorrigible— beyond redemp- 
 tion/' 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Liton," went on Miss Britter, "I had a 
 talk with Krammer to-day about a photography 
 class." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "The usual, 'Oh, no, not now,' etc., but I got the 
 best of him. I argued so long to prove to him 
 that it is a necessity and not a luxury that he prom- 
 ised that when Mr. Landor comes on Sunday to see 
 the parade (Mr. Landor is one of the rich members 
 of the Board of Directors) he would mention it to 
 him, and if he was willing to make the donation, 
 Krammer would call you to tell him why you think 
 it is a good idea." 
 
 "Good for you. I'll prove it to him — most con- 
 clusively." 
 
 Their path led them over quaint little rustic 
 bridges and over a very high hill, and brought them 
 back again to Hilldale when the street lights were 
 being lit. 
 
 "When I'm out like this," said Nida, "I feel 
 fine.-' 
 
 "Let's go in here and have a good meal, and 
 you'll feel still finer." 
 
 The proprietor, a middle-aged woman with well- 
 curlfd hair and an exceptionally well painted and 
 powdered face, was there, and in her endless num- 
 ber of trips from the cash box to the kitchen win- 
 dow, greeted them very often with extremely warm 
 smiles.
 
 142 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 The coffee sign looked as cheerful as ever, and 
 the coffee it involuntarily praised tasted even bet- 
 ter. 
 
 They ate a great deal and laughed as much. 
 
 "Poor Ernest," began Miss Britter suddenly, "we 
 must get him out of the kitchen." 
 
 "Anybody that makes a single reference to the 
 institution or the boys will have to pay a fine of 
 ten cents," said Nida. 
 
 "Good idea. We'll all become maniacs if we 
 keep on." 
 
 "And move into padded cells." 
 
 After going into details as to what each would 
 say when they get to their particular padded cell, 
 they started for home. 
 
 On their way home, Miss Britter began to relate 
 an incident that had taken place that day in her 
 office, and was immediately stopped and the ten 
 cents was exacted in the dark and they had to 
 light a match to see whether the coin she handed 
 the self-appointed treasurer was a ten cent piece. 
 This performance took place several times, and af- 
 fected different members of the company, and they 
 soon found themselves on an unknown road with 
 two unoccupied houses visible. Not a living being 
 was about to inquire of. 
 
 "I'm sure that this is the hill," said Miss Brit- 
 ter, pointing to one on the right. "Let's make for 
 that." 
 
 It was a clear night, with very bright stars, and 
 the atmosphere so calm that sounds of voices and 
 of a barking dog came floating towards them from 
 the distance.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 143 
 
 When they reached the grounds the dormitory 
 lights had long been put out, and the teachers hav- 
 ing gone to the city for the week end, the place 
 seemed deserted. With the exception of a light here 
 and there in some cottage mother's room, and the 
 moving lantern of the watchman, the institution 
 was in darkness. 
 
 They retired to their own rooms, and almost 
 simultaneously these were lit up, giving added life 
 to the outdoor aspect of the hill. Then at ten o'clock 
 the power house shut down upon them, and the 
 darkness deepened. Candle lights soon made their 
 ghostly appearance to wrangle with the night; but 
 even the candle lights, one by one, yielded, and the 
 night victorious, settled heavily upon the hill and 
 the valleys on either side. 
 
 Mr. Liton smothered his candle and fell upon his 
 bed, but found it hard to sleep. Several times he 
 stole up to the window and peeped out over the end- 
 less stretch of shadow, upon the subdued Milky Way, 
 or towards the lifeless dormitory opposite him. 
 
 The watchman started a heavy grinding walk to 
 the other end of the hill, to begin another round. Mr. 
 Liton listened to him, and stationed himself once 
 more where he could look out and get the breeze 
 upon his face. 
 
 "A boy is up and can't sleep," thought he, for he 
 saw a white figure at the window of the dormitory, 
 si 111 ic two hundred feet before him. 
 
 "Fellow sufferer," he went on thinking, "I wish 
 he could come over here and talk with me. I guess 
 it's better for both of us, though, to return to bed." 
 
 But the white figure had more vital reasons for 
 being unable l<> sleep Muni he, ami had no intention
 
 144 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 of returning to bed. The nervous head went way 
 out beyond the window and looked from left to right; 
 then, moved by a determined impulse, stepped upon 
 the window sill, grabbed the rope he had made of 
 his bed sheet, and quickly slid down. After a second 
 and hurried look about, the white figure dashed 
 away into the woods and was lost. 
 
 Mr. Liton was dazed for a moment. He fell back 
 upon his bed and tried to think — to work his way 
 out of a nightmare — and buried his head in his pil- 
 low. Before his closed eyes shivered the half naked 
 figure of a child struggling through the terrors of a 
 tragedy. 
 
 A sound of voices and the rush of heavy feet 
 startled him again. There was a hurried call from 
 one man to another. One of the watchmen had dis- 
 covered the runaway's rope, the Colonel had been 
 awakened, and hastily they were on the trail. The 
 Colonel carried a rope, and the other a lantern, 
 and they, too, dashed into the woods, for it was there 
 that all boys took shelter. 
 
 Almost an hour later the Colonel returned with 
 his rope unused, the watchman's lantern still burn- 
 ing, and himself weary and worn out. There were a 
 few hasty admonitions hurled at the watchman, who 
 took them quietly, and continued on his rounds. 
 Colonel Reilly's heavy feet ground their way on the 
 pebbles, thumped a number of times on cement steps, 
 and the sound of a closing door left V y night to 
 itself. 
 
 The little white figure was still white in Mr. 
 Liton's restless brain, and he saw it run and stumble 
 by turns. Coming from some distance, he could hear 
 the excited barking of several dogs, and his heart
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 145 
 
 beat frightfully, and he could have cried, as if he, 
 too, were a slave child in white, alone in the woods, 
 attacked by all the childish horrors of the night. 
 
 Several times that night he returned to the win- 
 dow side and looked out, until the night began to 
 fade, and almost imperceptibly, the dawn grew gray 
 upon it. 
 
 An alarm clock went off. A cottage father rose 
 from his bed, donned his bath robe, went up into the 
 dormitory and shook a sleepy little man. The sleepy 
 little man rubbed his eyes, jumped off his bed, quick- 
 ly dressed, clattered down the wooden stairway, 
 opened the door and emerged into the half darkness 
 of the morning, with a horn under his arm; then 
 turned up the lapel of his coat to keep the wind from 
 going down his warm back; ran to the flag-pole and 
 pulled out the morning call. Then followed a multi- 
 tudinous clatter of little feet on the dormitory floors 
 and the institution was fully awakened into the rou- 
 tine of another Saturday. 
 
 Mr. Liton dressed hurriedly and struck out for 
 Mi'. Kolan's cottage, and woke him up. The two 
 then started for an early morning walk. 
 
 "Miss Britter and Miss Cane are going to the city 
 to-day, are they not?" asked Mr. Liton, after they 
 had walked several miles, and he had described, in 
 detail, every incident that had taken place the night 
 before. 
 
 "Yes, they are going to take the early train, too." 
 
 u Do you suppose they might want to see us about 
 anything before they go?" 
 
 "I don't think so. They're coming back as soon 
 as the courses they are taking at the university are 
 over."
 
 146 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Well, what do you say to our going on for the 
 entire day?" 
 
 "I have no objections." 
 
 "I would like to climb up there," said Liton, 
 pointing to the western hill with its monastery. "I 
 want to see what sort of a building is under those 
 towers that we always see against the sky." 
 
 "Oh, it's very beautiful. I have been there 
 several times," answered Rolan. "It is an old 
 monastery, I think." 
 
 "Rolan," began Mr. Liton, while they were mak- 
 ing for the hill, "do you know, I wish I had a school 
 of my own. I'm very much afraid that there isn't 
 much to be hoped for here. It's bad from one end to 
 the other — it's a farce, pure and simple. It is a 
 make believe affair, stands for something that it is 
 not at all, in any way." 
 
 "And the worst part of it," said Rolan, "is that 
 most people think so highly of it. It is so clean and 
 so beautiful in appearance that everybody thinks it is 
 ideal. I have heard many people call it the best 
 institution of its kind, and I have read that in the 
 newspapers." 
 
 "Exactly! That is just why I think it is hopeless. 
 You can reform boys, but you can't reform men so 
 easily, and I suppose some men, because of some 
 vices, are beyond redemption." 
 
 "Just exactly what I have often thought," cried 
 Rolan, "to reform these boys, one would first have to 
 reform the officers." 
 
 "And not only that, but you would first have to 
 reform the world and society. How few people un- 
 derstand — how few have real sympathy or go down 
 to the bottom of things. A few, moved by a kind of
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 147 
 
 sentimental sympathy that they have acquired from 
 articles and books, rush into the work, fail, as they 
 should, and come back to tell the rest of the world 
 their experiences; and the world becomes discour- 
 aged, blames everything on human nature, and falls 
 back a step or two in the struggle upward. Look at 
 old man Krammer. I can't talk two words with him 
 before he informs me that he has had twenty years 
 of experience in the business. And let me tell you, 
 the world respects his experience, regardless of how 
 many leagues he may have traveled in the darkness. 
 I don't think that man ever understood a single child 
 in his life. He tells me his own boys are a disap- 
 pointment to him — he could never make them do as 
 he wanted them to, and he is at the head of a society 
 that has in its control a multitude of children. The 
 very fundamental principles of reformation are 
 Greek to him. 
 
 "He has not learned in all his twenty years that 
 vou can neither make bovs do what you think is 
 right, nor beg them to do so. He can not see that 
 every child is guided by a set of impressions that 
 certain years, of a certain kind of experience, have 
 made ; that only by supplying the elements of a new 
 and better environment that will make a boy see and 
 feel that your notions are right and that his own are 
 wrong, and that living up to yours he will be hap- 
 pier, is reformation possible. If living up to your 
 notions he will not be happier, then there is some- 
 thing wrong with your notions, and the child should 
 not be blamed. Society takes a boy that was led by 
 an uncontrollable amount of energy, curiosity, hun- 
 ger, and desire into a mode of living that made way 
 foe liis surplus energy and satisfied his hunger and
 
 148 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 desire; and ties him down to an institution where 
 there is little or no outlet for most of his energy; 
 where curiosity must be stifled, and hunger and de- 
 sire go partially or entirely unsatisfied, and because 
 of his failure with these methods, the superintendent 
 pronounces the boy incorrigible, and the world 
 thinks him a wise man who speaks from experience. 
 "Take the boy, for instance, who learned to steal 
 or gamble, and with the amount he either stole or 
 won found it possible to fly about on trolley cars, to 
 ride on boats or go to amusement centers, where he 
 could flirt with the girls; to moving picture shows, 
 where they cater to all his potential sensuality and 
 develop it; who finds in his vices a satisfaction for 
 all the desires that his environment has created in 
 him — imagine telling that boy about virtue. What 
 represents virtue in his mind? The institution de- 
 nies him all the pleasure he has had, immoral as 
 they may have been; harnesses him up in a lot of 
 meaningless rules; gives him half as much as he 
 desires to eat, and makes him work at things he does 
 not like to do. In short, hard as it may be to say 
 it, for all his grandeur, his delight and his sensuality, 
 he is forced into a cold, lifeless, enslaved, brutal en- 
 vironment, and told that that means virtue, and is 
 then asked to be virtuous. Could anything be more 
 painfully ridiculous? That is what is called refor- 
 mation, and because his very soul rebels against it, 
 because he will not submit to it, he is considered 
 incorrigible, and is despised. And when his revolt 
 expresses itself in crimes that affect us, we put him 
 in irons and main and cripple him for life, and feel 
 justified in doing so,"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 149 
 
 "Bui what will satisfy all those desires or devel- 
 oped sensuality? Surely you couldn't create such 
 conditions here. Just a minute! I am asking this 
 from the point of view of some of our friends at 
 Abolt. I want to know how you would answer that 
 —I feel what you say, but I don't think I could an- 
 swer that question." 
 
 "If I thought that the satisfaction of his desires 
 really constituted the highest form of pleasure, I 
 should say yes — give him such a condition here, or, 
 rather, let him alone where he is; but I know at 
 heart that a certain number of things that I have ex- 
 perienced mean infinitely more pleasure and happi- 
 ness to me and those about me, and I should set 
 about to make him get my experience as uncon- 
 sciously and unforced as I got mine. 1 can get much 
 more pleasure from creating things, r can get much 
 more pleasure from literature, from music, from 
 the woods and the roads. I am confident that by 
 making him experience my experiences he will wake 
 up some day and find that he feels as I do, and will 
 think that he himself has figured matters out and 
 concluded that way. I should do away with the 
 wretched slave rules; I would take him out of the 
 soul-destroying military line and military march; 
 I should give him all the freedom that I could possi- 
 bly give him without his getting into trouble. I 
 should show him that rule and law are merely an 
 agreement between people for the good of all, and 
 would allow him to be a party to all his contracts. 
 I would teach him to make things, and let those 
 things be the things that he wants to have and use ; 
 I would take him out into the woods and let him 
 run and play until he is exhausted; I would let him
 
 150 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 hear his street or moving picture music if he agrees 
 to hear my kind with me, and I am confident that, 
 my kind being the better, he will prefer my kind 
 in time. The same is true of literature." 
 
 "I would show him that my kind of freedom, 
 gotten by working at the kind of things I like to do, 
 is infinitely better than his kind, where he makes so 
 many other people unhappy, and is always afraid 
 of the policeman. Surely it won't take him long to 
 realize that. He would rather earn enough to make 
 him happy than steal it for that purpose. The idea 
 of making a twelve-hour-day plumber, mussing with 
 filthy pipes and sewers, of a boy who has learned 
 the meaning of freedom and pleasure. What mil- 
 lionaire will give up his automobile for a cramped 
 position in a sewer hole in the ground?" 
 
 "Give him to me. Let me put him into a world 
 that gives him the opportunity of exercising his en- 
 ergy and his ingenuity; let him taste the joy of mak- 
 ing things, of being a somebody of ability and worth, 
 and he will be reformed. No, reformed is a bad 
 word. We, society, will then have atoned for our 
 abuses upon his potentiality." 
 
 They had already climbed up the steep hill, and 
 Liton stopped, almost breathless, and gazed. 
 
 Towards the left their path continued winding 
 around large tree trunks and their extended roots, 
 and leading to an old deserted monastery, whose 
 dark, gloomy windows were stopped on one side by 
 half broken shutters, and nailed up with unpainted 
 pine boards on the other. Most of the building was 
 covered with living red and yellow colored vino 
 leaves, which obliterated the corners and sharp edges 
 of the entire body of the building, but, unable to
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 151 
 
 reach the two towers above, took the semblance of a 
 human figure in supplication. 
 
 Tall, massive, wooden columns struggled upward 
 from their bases, hidden by overgrown ugly weeds ; 
 and, formed a porch, where a few old broken chairs 
 could still be seen strewn upon its floor like wreck- 
 age on a sea, telling of ascetic monks who, weary 
 with their own solitude, would sit and gaze down 
 into the valley of the living. 
 
 They struggled through the weeds and vines, in 
 the hope that some one window would open up and 
 give them a chance to look into the interior that 
 seemed to have been occupied by death so long. 
 
 "My, but I'd like to own this. What a capital 
 reform school it would make." 
 
 "Kind of gloomy, isn't it?" suggested Rolan. 
 "It's gloomy now, but! — Give me a dozen boys 
 and a month, and we will tear open these windows 
 and doors, destroy these ugly weeds, and fill the 
 place with life again. Think of flowers about this 
 place, and little gravel walks." 
 
 "A coat of paint, and large windows in those 
 towers." 
 
 "It would be great. Rolan, let's get it." 
 "All right; it's for sale. Have you the money?" 
 "No, I haven't — but we can get it." 
 "I will go with you any time you call me." 
 Reluctantly they left the place. Every inch of 
 ground had been covered and examined, and every 
 one of the adjacent small buildings was given a 
 purpose. One would make a good manual-training 
 shop, another a chicken house, and the third a better 
 barn than it was. One excavation made a trifle 
 larger, would make a good swimming pool in sum-
 
 152 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 mer and a skating rink in winter. A grove towards 
 the left would make a splendid athletic field. On 
 their way down they opened the shutters on the win- 
 dows in imagination, and conceived the large halls 
 within — one large room was to be a music room, an- 
 other a studio. One room was to be the play room — 
 it had a large fireplace, and they could already see 
 the flames within and the boys encircling it. The 
 rest of the rooms were to be school rooms and sleep- 
 ing rooms. The towers were to be turned into obser- 
 vatories, with inexpensive telescopes where boys 
 could gaze at the stars and moon — could anything 
 more exciting be offered to boys ! 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when they reached 
 Hilldale. They made for the restaurant and ordered 
 a heavy meal, and by the time they reached the old 
 house in the valley, on their way home, it was eight 
 o'clock. The conversation stopped and each strained 
 his ears to hear "Taps" send the boys to bed. 
 
 "There it goes," said Liton. 
 
 "You know, I don't think I shall ever forget that 
 boy's "taps." So much feeling in it. How sweetly 
 it is drawn out! How it rises in such a majestic 
 crescendo, and finally dies away so softly — it moves 
 me." 
 
 Half an hour later they were traveling the gravel 
 walks from cottage to cottage, looking for Miss Brit- 
 ter and Miss Cane. 
 
 "They must be at Mr. Staver's cottage," said Mr. 
 Rolan. "We used to go there every other night to 
 listen to his phonograph. He has some very good 
 records and is a very musical man himself." 
 
 Just where they were. The machine was on one 
 of the long tables in the sitting room, and Mr. Staver
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 153 
 
 stood by. manipulating it. The two men walked in 
 quietly, for a great prima donna was singing, and 
 they took their seats, merely having motioned their 
 greetings to Mr. Staver and his guests. 
 
 Miss Britter was seated in a rocker, with her eyes 
 towards the unused fireplace, and Nida was stretched 
 on one of the benches near her, in a sleeping posi- 
 tion. On the tables lay heaps of books and scattered 
 dominoes that the boys had just used. 
 
 "You should have come an hour earlier," said 
 Miss Britter, when the prima donna had finished her 
 performance. 
 
 'Why?" 
 
 "Mr. Staver's boys were all down here, and we 
 played with them. They were delighted. We told 
 them all kinds of stories, and Mr. Staver played the 
 machine for them. You should have heard the warm 
 good-night we got. Every one of the thirty-two boys 
 had to be answered individually." 
 
 "I'm sorry you people were not with us. We saw 
 some wonderful things to-day." 
 
 "What did you see?" asked Nida, sitting up. 
 
 "The old monastery," said Rolan. 
 
 "That may be wonderful — yes, I guess it is won- 
 derful, but I think I have seen wonders as great." 
 
 "Oh, yes, quite possible. I was not thinking of 
 the place as it is now — I thought of its potential 
 wonders." 
 
 "Some more plans?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 Mr. Liton hesitated. 
 
 "He's going to turn it into an ideal reformatory," 
 said Rolan.
 
 154 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Give us jobs?" 
 
 "Certainly, couldn't make it go without you." 
 
 "Give me one, too?" asked Mr. Staver. 
 
 "If you bring that machine along." 
 
 "I go nowhere without it. It has come to me by 
 way of consolation. I always wanted to be a great 
 violinist when a boy, but I never had the opportunity 
 to study much. I studied a few years and had to 
 give it up. This takes the place of my poor unreal- 
 ized longing. I can stand here and play anything I 
 want." 
 
 "How's your wife?" asked Rolan, after a few 
 minutes. 
 
 "She isn't any better. I'm afraid we'll have to 
 leave this place." 
 
 Mr. Staver placed another record on the machine, 
 a violin solo by one of the greatest players of the day; 
 and the Spanish melodies, which he played, poured 
 out of the wooden horn and filled the room with 
 melancholy beauty. Mr. Staver stood in his place 
 by the side of the machine, and smiled with emotion 
 as each sweet little melody ended. Mr. Rolan folded 
 his arms and stared out of the window. Mr. Liton 
 clasped his hands and gazed on the portrait of Lin- 
 coln that looked down from over the fireplace. Miss 
 Britter continued her gaze oh the unburnt wood be- 
 tween the fire irons; while Nida, stretched upon her 
 bench again, buried her face in her arms. 
 
 Number after number was played, and many re- 
 ceived several encores, until suddenly, in the midst 
 of Massenet's Elegy, the lights went out, Mr. Staver 
 had a candle ready, for this happened at all his con- 
 certs, and in this flickering light the concert was 
 concluded.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 REFUGEES 
 
 Michael Roate had rim away, and a general ex- 
 citement pervaded the atmosphere of the institution. 
 Michael had been abused, and Mr. Krammer wor- 
 ried. Mr. Reilly had been admonished, and he in 
 turn admonished the cottage father and almost got 
 into a fight with him over it. The farmer was ordered 
 to hitch up a horse and buggy and follow the refu- 
 gee. Not only was the one boy gone, but after one 
 boy escaped there followed a general desire to get 
 away, and they expected a few others to attempt to 
 follow him. 
 
 All day Saturday there had been continuous run- 
 ning about. Everybody seemed busy, but Michael 
 was not found. 
 
 Sunday morning, it was understood, special visi- 
 tors were to come. The dining room was to be dec- 
 orated, the tables to receive new table cloths, the boys 
 to receive and wear their new winter shoes, the cot- 
 tages were to be made scrupulously clean from top to 
 bottom, and the little fellows slaved at the work. 
 The little prisoners were to be taken down from their 
 coops and the handcuffs that had been hanging on 
 to their limbs were to be hidden. The boys in the 
 hospital were energetically encouraged to join their 
 friends in their cottages, and to vacate the sick 
 rooms. 
 
 Not a grown-up touched broom or mop or rag. 
 Every window had a boy sitting upon it, whether 
 on the first or third story, scrubbing with soap and
 
 156 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 water and rag. Every set of stairways, every Hour, 
 and every bit of woodwork was scrubbed by wet 
 chapped hands, and in the process some boys were 
 kicked, some slapped, and all ordered about uncivil- 
 ly. They grumbled, glanced sidewise, and hated.* 
 
 But when Sunday came every officer beamed in 
 his new uniform, and the place in general sparkled. 
 Everything seemed clean and new and happy, but 
 the boys' faces; but visitors got to know that those 
 faces were faces of moral degenerates, and were 
 quite satisfied. "They will either change, or else — 
 it can't be helped." 
 
 Miss Britter made sure that she was not far from 
 the office during any part of the morning, for rea- 
 sons of her own, and she informed Mr. Liton that it 
 would be well if he remain in his room. 
 
 "You see," she said, "I know Mr. Landor well, and 
 will make myself visible, so that he can give me his 
 hearty hand-shake, and I can start a conversation 
 on photography and can call you. If we leave it to 
 Krammer, he will forget all about it a few times, you 
 know." 
 
 And so it happened. Miss Britter, from her office 
 window, saw Mr. Landor come upon the grounds in 
 his automobile and whirl up to the school building. 
 She made it her business to walk out just in time, 
 and consequently met Mr. Landor, who had always 
 taken a lively interest in her work. A conversation 
 was started, and Mr. Liton was soon called for, who 
 explained very enthusiastically the many possible 
 effects of teaching photography. 
 
 ♦That this picture is strictly true will be recognized by 
 all employees in reformatories.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 157 
 
 "How much do you think it would take?" he 
 finally wanted to know. 
 
 "I have figured that out very carefully," answered 
 Mr. Liton, causing him to smile, "and I find that if 
 I am to have instruments and materials enough to 
 put a dozen boys to work at a time, I must have at 
 least two hundred dollars." 
 
 "All right, Mr. Liton, you may have that. Mr. 
 Krammer can order whatever you need and I will 
 pay for it." 
 
 Mr. Landor then went into the office and told Mr. 
 Krammer what he had promised to do, and found 
 him very thankful indeed, but unable to withhold 
 an expression of his feelings of surprise. 
 
 Many other important visitors soon arrived, and 
 the school was surrounded by automobiles, big and 
 little, the big ones representing the many-thousand- 
 dollar philanthropists and the little ones the few- 
 thousand-dollar ones; but all were equally interested, 
 and when the bugle called, rushed out upon the lawn 
 to watch their boys drill for their pleasure. 
 
 Nothing unusual transpired. The band played. 
 From every cottage boys dressed in costly uniforms 
 and carrying guns, poured into the main roadway, 
 and inarched towards the flag-pole. The Colonel 
 was in his element, and his voice shook the very in- 
 sitution, as it sang out over the hill and echoed in 
 the valleys. Boys marched and drilled with heavy 
 guns. Some thought it exciting and many worried 
 over it. The visitors applauded, and marching was 
 resumed. The visitors grew weary and re-entered 
 the school building. The boys continued marching. 
 Cottage One was at the extreme end of the walk and 
 near the path Michael had taken two nights before.
 
 158 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 They were ordered to halt, while every boy's atten- 
 tion was directed to where at a distance the Colonel 
 stood and instructed. A foolish impulse possessed 
 Dick Kennen, and he pinched Skinny Ludwig in the 
 arm. Skinny understood what was wanted and the 
 two sneaked away, right into the woods. Strange 
 that the Colonel should have seen it. He ordered 
 his battalion to face about, and half an hour later, 
 when each cottage was on its way home he followed 
 the trail to the woods. A cottage father went with 
 him. 
 
 For over an hour they went on and retraced their 
 steps by turns, and suddenly came upon them. 
 
 Dick thought that his escape had been undiscov- 
 ered, and he congratulated himself hastily. They 
 were standing very near to the woods, and surely the 
 busy Colonel could not have seen them. The boys, 
 he knew, would not "snitch" on them. But, as luck 
 would have it, just when they were beginning to feel 
 safer, Skinny tripped upon a vine and fell upon a 
 very sharp stone that cut right through stocking and 
 skin to the very bone. Dick could have cried, but 
 "what good will cryin' do?" he figured out, and pre- 
 vailed upon poor Skinny to cry as softly as he could, 
 because "somebody might be after us." He half 
 dragged and half carried him to some underbrush, 
 where he attempted to treat the wound. 
 
 "Can you walk all right if I tie it up with this 
 handkerchief?" 
 
 "Maybe." 
 
 Dick pulled out his handkerchief. It was not very 
 clean and he was afraid to put it on the wound, for 
 he had heard that you can get blood poisoning in 
 that way. A multitude of thoughts came through
 
 A BUNGH OF LITTLE THIEVES 150 
 
 his mind. If Skinny got blood poisoned, they would 
 both be caught, and Skinny might even die. Per- 
 haps it would be better to go back where they could 
 put something on his wound, or may be it would be 
 better if Skinny crawled back and let him go on, for 
 they'd surely beat him; they'd be afraid to hurt 
 Skinny. 
 
 These thoughts he made known to Skinny, and 
 poor Skinny, with a half sobbing voice, agreed with 
 him. "They won't whip me for it, but they will whip 
 you. I can crawl back; it isn't far. You run on 
 quick." 
 
 Dick, with tears in his eyes, bade farewell to his 
 companion, and made a dash into the woods. Then 
 it came upon him, "What if some one found Skinny 
 and hurt him — what if Skinny can't crawl back?" 
 He would go back, help Skinny on till they came to 
 a farmer. If they promised to work for the farmer, 
 he would help them. And so he retraced his hasty 
 steps and fell into the arms of the Colonel. 
 
 The Colonel selected a spot from where he could 
 see the automobiles, and sat down with his captives 
 to wait until those automobiles would drive away. 
 
 "Just wait till you get back," Colonel Reilly ad- 
 dressed himself to Dick. "You will get all you were 
 looking for, and a good bit besides, take that from 
 me. You will never do any runnin' any more. We'll 
 fix you so you won't be able to stand or sit for a 
 week — you will do no more runnin' away, remember 
 that." 
 
 Dick was in terror. What shall he do? He might 
 run now — he could run faster than the Colonel — 
 and he could get under the small trees quicker than 
 tie, The opportunily came, The Colonel decided to
 
 160 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 return where he might be wanted, and left his cap- 
 tives in charge of Mr. Saunders. Mr. Saunders was 
 busy telling Skinny what might happen to him, and 
 fixing his pipe for a smoke. 
 
 This was the only chance for his life, Dick knew, 
 and, getting up quickly with the aid of his hands, he 
 struck for the woods once more, and ran and crawled 
 for dear life. 
 
 Mr. Saunders dropped his pipe on a stone and 
 made after him. It was bad enough to run on the 
 open path, but through the vines and underbrush it 
 was almost impossible. Mr. Saunders puffed away 
 after him under and against tree and shrub until 
 finally he landed him, tripped in the meshes of a 
 wild vine. Mr. Saunders was bruised on face and 
 hands and out of breath, and like all animals in 
 such a condition, his temper had the best of him. 
 His large hand sunk down into the mass in the vine 
 and closed tightly on Dick's neck, and pulled him up 
 and out with increasing maddened strength. He 
 beat and kicked and pulled, and poor Dick yelled 
 and begged for mercy. 
 
 They returned to where Skinny sat and cried 
 as if he, too, had been kicked and beaten. His wound 
 did not pain him any more, and he was ready to 
 limp home. Regretting the moment and the im- 
 pulse that started Michael away, and them after him, 
 they walked and limped back, sorry looking refu- 
 gees, Dick crying and talking by turns, while Saund- 
 ers held him tightly by the neck. 
 
 "You'll be sorry for this all right. Yes, you kicked 
 me and I'll be sick, and if I die they'll hang you. I 
 hope I do die," he sobbed, and rubbed his eyes.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 161 
 
 It was no ordinary kick, one of the many that 
 he received, and the pain that resulted from it grew 
 heavier and more unbearable as they walked along, 
 and his cries grew correspondingly louder, and be- 
 fore they reached the hospital Dick collapsed and 
 was carried there and put into bed, howling with 
 pain. 
 
 Skinny's wound was dressed. He was taken to 
 the office, where Mr. Krammer administered the 
 usual whippings given all who escape or try to. Mr. 
 Krammer was alone in his office when the boy was 
 brought in. 
 
 "A runaway, eh? Just leave him to me," said 
 the superintendent, "we'll fix him up." 
 
 Skinny was stood up against the wall and the 
 tears rolled down his sickly cheeks, over cheek bone 
 and into the hollows and down again on his big and 
 new uniform. "I won't do it again," he wailed, but 
 the big man, used to those entreaties, sat at his desk, 
 fixing some papers unmindful of him, till his sob- 
 bing subsided and, childlike, he had taken an in- 
 terest in a large book of maps that lay open on the 
 table, and forgot about his troubles. 
 
 "Now come here to me," said Mr. Krammer, in 
 anger, when ready for him, and pulled out from one 
 of the drawers a number of rattan slicks that he 
 kept there for the purpose. 
 
 Skinny's pleadings increased in ferver. 
 
 "Stop that noise," cried Mr. Krammer, "and come 
 here as I said." 
 
 He advanced trying to subdue his wailing, and 
 the superintendent placed his hand upon the boy's 
 shoulder. "Do you see these sticks?" he asked. "1 
 use them specially for boys who run away. Now
 
 162 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 stop that yelling, or it will be the worse for you. I 
 am going to whip you now and whip you hard, and 
 when I'm through I'm going to lock you up in a 
 coop and tie you hand and foot with these cuffs for 
 a whole week. After that time you will never try 
 to run away again." 
 
 Both promise and prophecy were carried out, 
 one by the hand of the superintendent and the other 
 by a greater and less controllable force. Skinny's 
 face when through with the operation was wet and 
 dripping, and his smarting hands, one after the 
 other, were stuck into his mouth for soothing pur- 
 poses, and he himself was incarcerated, as was 
 promised him, for a week.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AN OFFICIAL RECTIFICATION OF AN UNOFFICIAL MISTAKE 
 
 There is a sadness in the change of seasons 
 that is indescribable. A golden autumn steals to its 
 end. and one day wakes gloomily. Dark gray clouds 
 overhang the hills and sail through the valleys. 
 Creatures bend their backs and stand staring away 
 into the mvsterious North, or sit within doors and 
 gaze out upon the yellow grass and leafless trees. 
 
 Ordinary children run gleefully up the stairway 
 to the at lie, pull out of great heaps of clothes their 
 winter garments, run out into the sunless outdoors 
 and defy the wind, which blows and tugs at cap and 
 ribbon, and goes ofT with the happy sounds of their 
 laughter. 
 
 But children with the trials of men, broken and 
 restrained by the will of others whom they hate, who 
 look forward to cold days of scrubbing and cleaning 
 with hands more chapped, put on the frowns and 
 furrows of their elders, and figuratively sit, in their 
 cottages, before windows and stare through II in gray 
 day, over fields of yellow grass and woods of leafless 
 trees to a far away mysterious North, and dread the 
 morrow. Some of them, old enough, look back upon 
 a yesterday anil regret. 
 
 This Monday was the monthly letter day that in- 
 stitution boys so eagerly look forward to, the day 
 when they forget the things they are punished for, 
 when they ignore all derisions for weakness, and 
 write their Letters home with a sentimentality thai
 
 164 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 wets the inky characters and spreads blots over the 
 paper. 
 
 The wind blew strong and tore from their vines 
 with an irresistible force the last red leaves from the 
 brick walls, and sent them rolling on the gravel walk 
 or through open windows. 
 
 Miss Britter sat in her office and worked over a 
 new schedule, when one of the red leaves flew into 
 the room and settled down upon the paper near her 
 pen. She looked at it for a moment, then went to 
 the window and looked out upon the death of 
 Autumn. 
 
 The boys who went to school in the afternoon 
 had to work in the morning, and those who went to 
 school in the morning did their work in the after- 
 noon. As she stood there fingering the string of 
 the window-blind a small group of lads marched 
 out of the dining room to the farm, and some of 
 them looked in her direction and smiled. All 
 of them pulled their caps down upon their necks, 
 bent their backs and put their hands into their 
 pockets. The farmer went somewhat behind, like 
 a slave-driver following his victims. These passed 
 before her like shadows on a screen, and she re- 
 turned to her desk. 
 
 A small boy rushed into the office. 
 
 "Miss Britter, the new teacher wants you. The 
 boys are very bad." 
 
 Miss Britter followed him and opened a door 
 from where a noisy bedlam died suddenly into 
 silence. Little sinners from every corner of the 
 room rushed madly to their own seats, clasped their 
 hands, and sat up stiff and quiet like little wooden 
 statues.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 165 
 
 Miss Britter stood up creel, stared at them, and 
 softly closed the door behind her. The room looked 
 like a battle field. Books were scattered all over the 
 floor, and in one corner a large box of chalk had 
 been emptied and almost powdered. Two windows 
 had had to give way to flying ink-wells, and a small 
 statue on the book case had had its nose broken off 
 and had received a large spot of ink on its right 
 cheek. 
 
 She ordered them to get busy at once, pick up 
 every book, clean the floors and the walls and then 
 n't urn to their seats. 
 
 "They threw spitballs, and one of them hit me 
 with a piece of chalk," cried the new teacher. 
 
 '"Yes, I see that," Miss Britter answered softly, 
 anxious to have her brace up rather than exhibit 
 her weakness. 
 
 The room was cleaned, and every boy took his 
 seat, clasped his hands, sat up stiff as before, and 
 spread a very serious expression over his face. 
 Even little Tony's big eyes were serious, and he 
 rolled them around, turning occasionally towards 
 other hoys in the class to see how they took matters. 
 His little legs, unable to reach the floor, sitting, as 
 he did, in a very low seat, dangled so hard that they 
 struck against a part of his seat, and the noise 
 frightened him. 
 
 Miss Britter had them sit quietly in that position 
 for about fifteen minutes, then, noting the strained 
 expressions on each face, had them rise, go through 
 ;i number of physical culture exercises, and return 
 to the same position. 
 
 "Can you give me the names of the boys who 
 started this, Miss Turner?"
 
 166 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I don't expect to stay," she whispered, with four 
 fingers against her mouth. 
 
 "I'm coming in again in a little while. Miss Tur- 
 ner, will you please point out to me then the boys 
 who have not done what they should, and I'll tell 
 them something they won't be very happy to hear." 
 
 "This is awful," she said to herself, as soon as 
 she closed the door behind her. "What can I do 
 with them? It is not their fault. Too many pupils 
 for one teacher. She doesn't give them work 
 enough, and she is very weak on the whole. The 
 idea of her telling me, before all those children, that 
 they hit her with a piece of chalk ! She is afraid of 
 them. How can she teach them?" 
 
 She opened the door of Room Four so carefully 
 that Nida went on with her work for several 
 moments before she was aware of Miss Britter's 
 presence. Thirty-five older pupils sat in their seats 
 fascinated by a story she was telling them in con- 
 nection with a geography lesson. Miss Britter was 
 delighted. "What a pleasure it is," she thought, "to 
 come into a room where there is sympathy and 
 respect between teacher and pupils." The boys real- 
 ized in their rough way that Miss Cane was a friend 
 of theirs, for she appreciated the difference between 
 one mood and another and always acted appro- 
 priately. Miss Britter told what she knew on the 
 subject, and the boys, being allowed to discuss 
 matters and tell what they knew, felt that they were 
 having a real good time. 
 
 She found Mr. Rolan admonishing a rather 
 penitent looking class. 
 
 "The change of weather, Miss Britter, made quite 
 a change in my boys. They were so gloomy they
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 167 
 
 found it necessary to talk, and since I refuse to go 
 on with my work while anybody talks, I had to stop 
 and tell them what I think about it." 
 
 "Why should they feel gloomy about the 
 weather?*' she asked, ignoring the jocular way in 
 which he had said that, and spreading a general 
 smile over the room. "I should think they'd be very 
 happy to think of the coming of snow — snow balls 
 and sledging." 
 
 At this the smaller boys rubbed their hands over 
 their chests in a grunting "ah, ah," while the older 
 boys shook their heads dubiously, and sneeringly 
 looked out of the windows. Mr. Rolan whispered to 
 Miss Britter, "I don*t blame them much. I feel as 
 though I should be much happier out doors just 
 now, myself." 
 
 In Miss Greet's room there was trouble. The 
 moment Miss Britter opened the door, Miss Greet, 
 who had been yelling, turned her head and blurted 
 her feelings right out. "I simply cannot go on to- 
 day, Miss Britter. They are actually rioting. I can- 
 not do anything. They're in rebellion. They won't 
 do what I tell them to, but sit and giggle and carry 
 on frightfully. They're not afraid of anybody." 
 
 At the same time they sobered up immediately 
 upon the arrival of Miss Britter, who put oil upon 
 the troubled waters by the remark, "Oh, well, Miss 
 Greet, we all feel out of sorts to-day. It is a little 
 gloomy — summer has gone, and now autumn is 
 going. Of course, there is no excuse for disorder, 
 and I'm sorry for the boys old enough to be in your 
 class who haven't intelligence enough to behave 
 themselves. I am quite sure, though, that they feel
 
 168 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 out of sorts and will feel better if they don't let this 
 gloomy day bother them." 
 
 "Don't you think, boys, that there is something 
 very beautiful about a day like this, too?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'm," said one boy, "when you can go 
 out doors, in the woods, and climb trees." 
 
 "Yes, that's true; that would make it better and 
 more interesting. But I mean even when you have 
 to be in a room where you can merely look out of 
 the window and watch the change of color in the 
 trees, see the last leaves torn off by the wind, and 
 think of the years you have lived already — you're 
 old enough to do that — and the years that are to 
 come to you yet, Make plans of what you are going 
 to do in those years. Think whether, when autumn 
 or winter comes to you, when you've grown old, you 
 will have had a good time of it, or whether without 
 education, without a job, or without friends, you will 
 have had to spend your days on a park bench, cold 
 and hungry and miserable, like the many that we see 
 to-day. And let me tell you, boys, every day that you 
 fail to behave and go without getting all that you 
 should out of your work, you are bringing your- 
 selves so much nearer to that terrible bench. Don't 
 think that by bad conduct you are harming anybody 
 but yourselves. This is not mere talk either. Every 
 time you act that way you are making stronger some 
 bad habit, and before long your characters will be- 
 come bad entirely, and the world is very mean to 
 bad characters. The world is very unforgiving. 
 The people with whom you will have to deal won't 
 excuse you, as I do. They won't say, 'Oh, the poor 
 fellow is out of sorts!' or, 'He had a bad time of it 
 in his life,' or, 'He doesn't mean to be bad.' The
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 169 
 
 world will look at you sharply, and if you don't 
 do just what is right, it will put you out, refuse to 
 give you that job, and have no sympathy with you 
 whatever. 
 
 "Then some day you will wake up and find that 
 winter has come. You will look into the looking- 
 glass or the reflection in a stream, and find that your 
 hair has become gray. You will look back upon 
 your life and see what a hardship it has been, and 
 then look ahead and see no hope, see before you no 
 home and no friends, except perhaps the possi- 
 bility of a poor-house. Boys, think hard about this. 
 I hope that not a single boy in this room or this 
 school will ever have to feel like that. I know you 
 won't if you will think about it, and make up your 
 mind to study and work and play and be happy. 
 You must think about it and say to yourselves, 'No, 
 I am not going to be one of those poor old miserable 
 men on the city park benches with torn and dirty 
 clothes, and a swollen face, mistreated and disliked 
 by everybody!' You may not agree with me; you 
 may not be able to see that your bad conduct to-day 
 may lead you into that kind of life, but if you don't 
 see it now, and if you don't take my word for it, 
 there will come a time when you will see it that 
 way, but when it will be too late. 
 
 "Now, then, stop all that nonsense. I want to 
 see every boy happy all the time, but I don't like to 
 see any boy make a fool of himself at any time, and 
 I have already told you why. Play as much as you 
 can when it is time to play; but forget all that when 
 you come to the class room. And, boys, we will 
 have to forget it, that's all there is to it. We can not 
 have such nonsense in the class room.
 
 170 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "As I look across the room I can see many faces 
 of boys who want to study and want to work and 
 make strong able men of themselves, and to guard 
 them I must see that the fellow who wastes their 
 time has got to stop doing so. You can do as you like 
 about yourselves, because you are going to do the 
 suffering for it; but you have no right whatever to 
 bring that upon other people." 
 
 Miss Greet set them to work. 
 
 "There will be a meeting this afternoon, Miss 
 Greet, in my office. Please come at ten after three, 
 sharp." 
 
 Mr. Liton announced, in the afternoon, that they 
 were to make the rough draught of the letters they 
 were to send home for that month, and, as they 
 always did, the boys hailed that with delight. The 
 yellow scrap of paper was distributed, and every boy 
 fell upon it. There was not a sound in the room, 
 and Mr. Liton walked to the window and looked 
 down into the gray green valley and upon the towers. 
 
 Above them, the heavy clouds flew over the hill 
 and valley like great mysteriously peopled airships 
 coming from the North and spread over the sky into 
 an even dark gray tone; and the purple and green 
 landscape turned into an indistinct blue. He watched 
 the leaves carried from one resting place to another, 
 dashed against other trees or buildings, or going on 
 and on with little interruption. 
 
 The sky dropped a snowflake, and then another 
 and another, and soon many more, until the atmos- 
 phere was one blowing, whirling confusion of wind 
 and white flakes. A boy saw it and ran to the 
 window. A dozen others, and before long the whole 
 class followed him, and soon was arranged at the
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 171 
 
 windows gazing out upon the coming winter. They 
 stood there for some minutes. 
 
 "It may be bad discipline, according to some 
 people's notion." thought Mr. Liton, "but not to 
 mine. I could not be dragged away from here; I 
 shall let them stay." 
 
 Soon one fellow returned to his seat to continue 
 his letter writing; then another; and one after the 
 other they returned to their seats, with new inspira- 
 tion. 
 
 The three o'clock bell rang, and the letters were 
 hastily collected. Mr. Liton, with the rest of the 
 teachers, went to Miss Britter's office as requested. 
 
 "I am going to say some pretty harsh things to- 
 day," began Miss Britter, when all the teachers had 
 taken their seats, "but you must not blame me for 
 it. I have spoken to you about these very things so 
 often, and they have been forgotten so often that I 
 am forced to do something to impress them most 
 lastingly upon you. Of course this does not apply 
 to everybody. 
 
 "I refuse to have twenty boys a day sent by each 
 of you to my office for misconduct. You reduce 
 your own influence with them every time vou send 
 them to me. You make yourselves weak by doing 
 so. Besides showing them that you can not handle 
 them, I have so many of them in my office at one 
 time that there is very little I can do. Time after 
 time I have the same boys, and many times I can see 
 at once that the teacher is at fault, and I dare not say 
 so. If you sent them only when it was very se- 
 riously necessary, I would be able to do a great deal. 
 I cannot and will not whip them, nor will I allow 
 any one else in the school to do so. There are times
 
 172 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 when it may be necessary with bovs who have been 
 trained to do nothing until the slap and the dig is 
 administered ; but in nine cases out of ten whipping 
 is more useless than effective even then, for that 
 boy has been hardened to that kind of treatment, 
 and it means nothing to him. 
 
 "But worse than all, is the fact that half the time 
 the boys you send me have done nothing that should 
 have provoked your anger. Overlook as many 
 things as you conscientiously can. Don't let a boy 
 come to me saying, 'I was only laughing' or 'She 
 thinks I did that for spite!' That's all nonsense. 
 Overlook these things when you can, and settle them 
 yourselves when you can not. 
 
 "I have come into class rooms and found teachers 
 admitting loudly before the class that 'I can't do 
 anything with them; they throw this, that and the 
 other thing,' and so forth, and so forth! Now, 
 really, can you imagine anything more foolish? 
 How do you ever expect to get the respect of your 
 boys when you make yourselves so weak before 
 them? If you must say that, say it to me, when 
 they do not hear it. On the other hand, why say it 
 at all? Some teachers can handle them very well. 
 If you can't, and do not hope to acquire the ability, 
 you ought to send in your resignation. This may 
 seem hard, but if we are to consider the welfare of 
 the boys — and we have no right to consider anybody 
 else's welfare at this institution— it is not a matter of 
 whether it is harsh or not. It is just so. 
 
 "If we have any desire to make ourselves experts 
 in this work, we must train ourselves as well as the 
 boys. If we have no such desires, then it is high 
 time we get out and let others come in who are either
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 173 
 
 capable to do the right thing at once or who are 
 willing to try to learn." 
 
 "If they were afraid to go to the office," said Miss 
 Brand all Hushed and excited, ''they would not have 
 to go so often." 
 
 "Not so long as I am principal here, Miss Brand, 
 will any boy be afraid to come to this office. I am 
 not here to fill them with fear, nor is any one else. 
 If you send them for the most trifling reasons, and 
 I find it against my principles to censure and make 
 more miserable a boy who has already had too much 
 of the world's misery, he will, consequently, begin 
 to enjoy coming here. He will also be losing 
 respect for yon. who can not attend to him your- 
 selves, or who delight in picking a quarrel with him 
 over every little thing. If I punished him, I should 
 do so for your wrong-doing." 
 
 "The trouble in this matter," said Mr. Liton, 
 when asked to discuss the question, "is that many of 
 us come here with the experience that we got in the 
 ordinary public schools and try to work our ped- 
 agogical principles upon Hi ;se boys, who are rebels 
 of that very public school. The public school in the 
 city lias tried to educate the boys now in our charge, 
 and has flatly failed. lis 'sissy' ideas of behavior, 
 which means pulling your limits into an imaginary 
 vice, that has gotten the boy to first rebel against 
 if. Ile'ii lo escape il by truancy, and finally to sub- 
 stitute for il IIh' street with all ils y'k-"S. The boy 
 has landed here. You can't hope to reform him by 
 demanding the discipline he fled from. I never lei I 
 my boys to sit up or to pay attention. I let them 
 stand on their heads if they desire to do so, but aim 
 to make my instruction interesting, and an oppor-
 
 174 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 tunity for all kinds of activity at the same time. A 
 boy scrawls all over his desk trying to listen to what 
 I say, because he is interested. Instead of telling 
 him to sit up, I walk to the other end of the room, 
 and he changes his position, or I call on him to get 
 something for me, and so on. One thing must be 
 done — the session must be made one period of active 
 interest. As soon as I fail to attract the boy's atten- 
 tion it is wasting time to go on. 
 
 "A boy brings bread into the school room and 
 eats it in his back seat. If he can do so without 
 attracting the attention of the other boys, why not let 
 him do it? Since he eats it, he must want it — and, 
 very often, needs it. If other boys do see him, and it 
 does interfere with attention, then, if possible, joke 
 about it, let them all laugh over it, and then get 
 right at your lesson again with a doubly interesting 
 question. 
 
 "I have taught for six years in the public schools 
 and never sent a single child to the office after the 
 first year. My first year's experience proved to me 
 that it is working against myself to do so. Why 
 shouldn't I settle my own affairs? I am conceited 
 enough to feel that Miss Britter can't settle my 
 affairs with my boys as well as I can do so myself; 
 besides, there are so many other ways in which Miss 
 Britter can help me along, why should I waste her 
 valuable time? Of course, there are rare occasions, 
 but they are rare, very rare, or at least they ought to 
 be very rare. I want to say, on the other hand, that 
 the conditions here, as in many other schools are 
 rank. A teacher can not successfully teach thirty- 
 five angels, much less thirty-five spirited boys at 
 one time."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 175 
 
 "That's just it," said Miss Greet, and Miss Brand, 
 by nodding, showed that those were her sentiments. 
 "It is ridiculous to have so many of these boys in 
 one class room." 
 
 "While I agree with you that ten or even twenty 
 would make a large enough class, or even that with 
 more than that number ideal teaching is impossible. 
 Still I hold that the amount of trouble that we have 
 is far in excess of what is unavoidable." 
 
 "As to making classes smaller, there is really no 
 use talking about it. I have been fighting with Mr. 
 Krammer over this for more than a year. Not only 
 does he refuse to listen to any plan for such a thing, 
 but he has deliberately asked me a few days ago 
 whether I couldn't condense the number of classes 
 and dispense with another teacher. So that, as you 
 see, is out of the question." 
 
 "If we received a half-way decent salary," said 
 Nida, "we might take up more courses at the uni- 
 versity and improve our teaching ability. I think 
 that would go very far in eradicating some of the 
 evil results of our ignorance." 
 
 "The larger salary you speak of," said Mr. Ro- 
 lan, "would especially be useful in providing meals 
 for us so that we shouldn't all be dyspeptic old 
 cranks. We'd gel along better with the boys if we 
 weren't." 
 
 "I want to add," began Miss Britter, again, "that, 
 on the whole, the spirit of the school is a thousand 
 times better that it was a year ago, and now, with 
 all the wonderful things we are launching, there is 
 no telling how very much better still the school will 
 be in the future. In spite of all the disadvantages, 
 we are on the road i<> great success. I'm sure that
 
 176 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 in a short time, if we keep on and do our level best 
 in every direction, this will become a school of 
 fame, for there are more earnest people here than 
 at any of the many institutions of its kind that I have 
 visited, if I have the right to judge. I have said 
 nothing with the intention of hurting anybody's 
 feelings. I have merely tried to impress you with 
 the importance of tolerance. I am not trying to 
 reduce my work. I am trying to make my work 
 more valuable to you. Why should I waste my 
 time trying to get a boy to stop laughing when I 
 might spend that same time getting interesting sub- 
 ject matter for you — getting newer and better 
 methods and helping you make your work more in- 
 teresting and efficient? Don't forget, too, that my 
 real purpose in asking you to take care of your own 
 troubles is to strengthen you in their eyes." 
 
 The discussion was continued for more than 
 an hour, and everybody having been given the op- 
 portunity to express himself or herself, the spirit 
 of friendliness increased many degrees, and each one 
 left with a determination to try harder next day. 
 
 "Mr. Liton," said the principal, when most of the 
 teachers had gone, "the boys from Mr. Saunders' 
 cottage, who are very much abused, are very bad 
 at school. They have been giving us considerable 
 trouble ever since he has been in that cottage. 
 Whether he ridicules the teachers before them, as he 
 does before his friends, or not, I am uncertain. I 
 know that they are very bad and impudent. I would 
 like to go there and find out, but you see I would 
 have no excuse for doing so." 
 
 "You want me to go there?"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 177 
 
 "Yes, I would like to have you go there and call 
 a meeting, and see what you can do with them." 
 
 "All right, I will do that after supper. Let's go 
 for a walk now." 
 
 They went to the farm again, where they found 
 Miss Brand and Miss Greet, and all gathered for a 
 good time. 
 
 After a long search they found a single tree, on 
 which a few red apples still hung. These they 
 picked and divided. 
 
 "Look here," cried Miss Greet, who had jumped 
 a stone fence about the orchard. 
 
 Everybody followed her to the other side. There, 
 against the wall, lay heaps of large apples that had 
 nut been picked and for sheer laziness had been 
 lefl to rot, while boys in their cottages were driven 
 to stealing for want of them. 
 
 "That farmer knows very little about apple trees," 
 said Miss Brand. 
 
 "Would that his ignorance extended no farther," 
 lamented Miss Cane. 
 
 They went away down into the valley and ex- 
 plored all the musty old corners of the deserted 
 house, and returned for supper. 
 
 "Will you please send all the boys of Mr. Saun- 
 ders' cottar: home to-night?" asked Mr. Liton of the 
 Colonel after supper. 
 
 "Another meeting to-night?" 
 
 "Yes, a special meeting." 
 
 "I can't send them all back right now, but they 
 can all be there by six o'clock." 
 
 "That will do." 
 
 Mr. Liton was glad to find on arriving at Mr. 
 Saunders' cottage that evening, that the cottage falli-
 
 178 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 er and mother had gone to the city, it being their 
 day off. There was a faint light in the small hall- 
 way, but the sitting room was in darkness. The 
 boys were all in the playroom in the basement, and 
 the tumult coming from that end of the cottage was 
 deafening. He rang the bell a few times, but re- 
 ceived no reply, the tumult increasing in volume as 
 he waited. He decided to go below through the 
 rear. 
 
 Through the dust that filled the cement-floored 
 room he could see one of the watchmen, a beastly 
 looking individual, with a boy's bat in his hands, ad- 
 ministering punishment for noise and creating bed- 
 lam. 
 
 "This is the worst I have seen here yet," thought 
 Mr. Liton, as he saw the bat come down upon a lit- 
 tle fellow with one shoe and stocking off, and he 
 heard the awful crying that resulted. "That man 
 isn't fit to be put in charge of a herd of oxen." 
 
 He made his way in and attempted to get silence. 
 The obliging watchman then determined to hasten 
 the coming of silence with his bat and a horrify- 
 ing, "at — ten — shun!" 
 
 Every time the bat came down, a yell followed, 
 like lightning and thunder, and in response to his 
 peculiarly accented call for attention there was a 
 burst of laughter. Bony-faced youngsters with sores 
 on their eyes or foreheads ceased the wailing and 
 started the laughter as often as he changed from 
 the one to the other of his attempts to get order. 
 
 Mr. Liton then interfered and after a strenuous 
 attempt the room was silenced, and as he looked 
 upon that wretched crowd he was on the verge of 
 giving up. "So much misery," he thought, "I'm
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 179 
 
 afraid there is no room for anything else." 
 
 "We are going to hold a special meeting to- 
 night," he finally informed them. "Please get into 
 line and let's go up-stairs." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Liton! thank you, Mr. Liton!" 
 came from the entire line, and Mr. Liton knew that 
 the thanks were offered not «o much for the meeting 
 as for the relief, however brief, from this insane 
 individual. 
 
 They were asked to take seats in the sitting-room, 
 and Mr. Liton sat at his little table looking at them 
 and unable to speak for fully three minutes, and 
 they, with their wet eyes and habitually frowning- 
 foreheads, wondered whether he was angry. 
 
 "Boys, I came to make arrangements with you 
 for holding your meetings and to help you to start 
 upon the work that you are to do, but I can hardly 
 go on." 
 
 'its not our fault," said one of the boys, a thin 
 lanky fellow, "that watchman's crazy." 
 
 ••\\V11. if I had just come in here for the first 
 time, and had seen what I saw to-night, I would 
 agree with you. Yes, it was his fault, he is very 
 funny." 
 
 : i5iil i( just happens that I was told to-day, and 
 I hope you have a good explanation for this, that 
 this cottage is the worst cottage in Abolt School." 
 
 "Because," said Ernest, the unappreciated genius, 
 "we have a succession of such watchmen; cottage 
 father Saunders find the watchman arc alike in their 
 insanity." 
 
 There was the precocious Ernest delivering him- 
 self of the truth, and Mr. Liton was lost as to what 
 to say.
 
 180 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "This isn't the only night of its kind," he went 
 on, taking advantage of Mr. Liton's inability to 
 speak. "We have that bat performance every 
 night."* 
 
 "We try to be decent," pitched in another, "but 
 they won't let us do anything here. They won't 
 let us have any meetings. I am secretary of this 
 cottage. He took my books away and my pencil and 
 gave me a licking." 
 
 This provoked a fit of laughter on the part of a 
 few of them ; the rest, like Mr. Liton, did not feel in 
 the mood. 
 
 "There is no use talking," went on Ernest, "we 
 won't have any meetings here. He won't let us 
 have them. We might as well give up. He laughs 
 at them and says we act like fools, and that we're 
 not fit for meetings, making of himself both judge 
 and jailer." 
 
 "Yesterday he heard us talking about the maga- 
 zine," put in Tifton, a tall, bright looking boy, one 
 of the brightest in Mr. Liton's High School class, 
 "and began to make fun of it, 'You needn't worry,' 
 said he, 'Mr. Liton is only foolin' you. He'll take all 
 the stuff you write and throw it into the waste-paper 
 basket.' " 
 
 "He said that to you?" asked Mr. Liton, his face 
 expressing the rage within him. 
 
 "Yes, sir," and half the other boys helped him 
 by many additional "Yes, sirs" and "I heard 'im." 
 
 "Well, boys, I can not say any more to you than 
 
 *This picture like almost every other one in this book 
 is a description of what actually took place and what in 
 reality was much more brutal than it can be made to appear 
 in words.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 181 
 
 that 1 am going tu try to help you. 1 will speak to 
 Mr. Krammer to-morrow about it, but you must 
 promise to do your best in the meantime. I want 
 Miss Britter to tell me next week that your cottage 
 was the best in behavior and not the worst. Do you 
 think that is possible ?" 
 
 There was a subdued "Yes, sir," in reply, but a 
 dubious expression spread over each face from the 
 bony, disgusting ones to the few bright, healthy 
 ones. They were ready to do what was right, but 
 as Tifton then expressed himself, "You haven't been 
 here long yet, Mr. Liton. Wait till you're here a 
 little longer; you'll find out a few things. Not many 
 people think as you do about it, and the rest of 'em 
 are all against you. You'll find that out. We've 
 tried to have clubs many times, but they don't want 
 them to be successful, and you'll find out why." 
 
 Mr. Liton told them a story of his own experi- 
 ence, told them of a trip he had taken across the 
 ocean, described in detail the hardship of the sailors, 
 and then gave them a picture of Liverpool — the 
 smoky atmosphere, the gloomy parks, with their 
 men out of work, asleep on the benches. He told 
 them of the little boys and girls, with sores all over 
 them, and who, dressed in rags, went about the 
 streets begging or selling matches. Then he took 
 them to London, about one of the London bridges, 
 and let them see and feel, as only they with their 
 experience could see and feel, the life in the slums 
 there. In thai way he gave them a real picture 
 of what living in the underworld meant, and then 
 showed them that by studying, becoming educated 
 or learning one or more trades, they could keep 
 themselves above that underworld.
 
 182 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Then he started upon a different course. He told 
 of some of the great men in the world who struggled 
 against the forces that pull people down, and rose 
 to usefulness and happiness. He described with 
 such vividness every step he knew in the life of 
 Owen Kildare that every boy felt that that was a 
 description at least in part of his own life, and hoped 
 that he might reach some distance in the height 
 Kildare had climbed. Then he laid his plans be- 
 fore them. He was going to teach photography, 
 which was not only fascinating, but one could earn 
 his living with a knowledge of it. Some of the boys, 
 by writing for the magazine, could learn to be writ- 
 ers, that in the magazine they would have drawings 
 as well, and that those who have ability would be 
 given a chance to learn to be illustrators. That, later 
 on, when the things he was starting now would be 
 running smoothly, he would give the boys a chance 
 to study many other things, that he had friends who 
 would come and teach them. 
 
 "Then, too," he went on, "when you show Mr. 
 Krammer that you love your republic and obey the 
 laws that you make, and get along well in school, 
 he will let us go out into the woods and camp and 
 take pictures, and so on." 
 
 Some of the boys joined in the enumerating of 
 the many things that could be done in the woods, on 
 the farm, and it was this response that assured Mr. 
 Liton that he had succeeded in doing what he had 
 set out to do, and he hesitated in leaving them to 
 the watchman. 
 
 "Perhaps," thought he, "if I could keep them for 
 the rest of the evening, and send that watchman 
 away, I will have made some kind of a lasting im-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 183 
 
 pression upon them." 
 
 "Shall I stay with you for the rest of the even- 
 ing?" he asked them. 
 
 The reply is impossible to describe, for it came 
 by way of facial expressions and excitement as well 
 as words. From the few who answered enthusi- 
 astically "Yes," it rose to those who gathered about 
 him and pleaded and begged. 
 
 "All right, then," said he, "I'll stay. I'll go down 
 stairs and tell the watchman that he can go on, but 
 you must be quiet while I'm gone." 
 
 Below he found the watchman dozing on a bench 
 in one corner of the basement play ground. "I'm 
 going to take care of these boys for the rest of the 
 evening, if you don't mind." 
 
 "Put them to bed and all?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "All right, thank you, thank you. Take 'em, 
 take 'em, I'll go and get a little snooze." With this 
 he left. 
 
 Mr. Liton walked into the engine room, gathered 
 some wood and paper, helped himself to a small 
 box of matches that lay on a shelf there, and walked 
 11 [> stairs. Without saying a word to the happy 
 youngsters, laughing and talking rapidly, he walked 
 up to the fireplace, put the paper and small pieces 
 of wood under the two logs that lay there, and set 
 a match to it. 
 
 "There'll be a row, to-morrow," said Tifton as 
 he watched it. 
 
 "Why?" asked Mr. Liton. 
 
 "Because they never do that, and they'll have 
 to replace the logs so it looks nice should visitors 
 come."
 
 184 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "But this wasn't built for visitors. This is exact- 
 ly what it's for." 
 
 Snaky tongues of flame were soon struggling 
 from paper and wood into the throat of the fire- 
 place, and the boys stood about and gazed at them. 
 All the lights in the room but one in the farthest 
 corner were put out, and the chairs were replaced 
 about the tw r o tables. Mr. Liton invited them to sit 
 down upon the rug with him, and, with their arms 
 embracing their knees, they watched the lights and 
 shadows as they danced and interchanged. 
 
 The boys fought with each other as to who was 
 to sit nearest to him, until he began the story he 
 promised to tell them, when they huddled together 
 as best they could and drank in every word, staring 
 into the fiery center of the fireplace. 
 
 One of the boys who could sing very well him- 
 self, suggested that they sing. "Home, Sweet Home," 
 received the largest number of votes, and not alone 
 because of its familiarity, and was started. 
 
 "But we must sing very, very softly, almost a 
 whisper," said Mr. Liton, and the soft, rather inhar- 
 monious music that followed, with the smoke from 
 the burning log, passed out through the chimney and 
 rose high into the heavens. 
 
 From the singing of "Home, Sweet Home," they 
 went into a discussion of what it means to have a 
 home and be away from it, and not to have a home 
 at all, and Mr. Liton was one of them and talked 
 to them as equals. 
 
 Then they began to sing again, and while they 
 were singing the door softly opened and Miss Britter 
 with Mr. Rolan and Miss Cane entered, unheard.
 
 \ BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 185 
 
 Mr. Rolan walked up on his loes, and touched 
 Mr. Liton on the shoulder. 
 
 "Hello!" 
 
 A whole shower of "Helios" followed, and tho 
 visitors had to answer each one of them. 
 
 "Do you know that the first bugle will blow in 
 another minute?" asked Rolan. 
 
 Mr. Liton hastily pulled out his watch, and the 
 boys were alarmed, and all jumped to their feet. 
 
 "Somebody'll be kickin', Mr. Liton," said the 
 cadet. "We must hurry down or there'll surely be 
 trouble." 
 
 "Oh, don't worry, I'll be responsible for what- 
 ever happens. Let's go down though and be as quick 
 as possible." 
 
 They went below and washed, put their shoes 
 away, made the gruesome semi-circle, bent their 
 heads, said their prayers and were soon making their 
 way up again. 
 
 The three visitors stood in the hallway as they 
 passed up and returned to each a sincere "Good 
 night.'' 
 
 Within a few minutes every boy had put his 
 clothes into the locker and was in his little bed, and 
 just as Mr. Liton was locking the last of the two 
 dormitory doors, after having turned out the lights 
 and bid them all good night, they heard the lovely 
 sound of "Taps." 
 
 In the sitting room, Mr. Liton found his friends 
 seated, as the boys had been, about the fireplace, and 
 joined thorn. They talked away about Abolt School, 
 pupils and officers until the light from the fire went 
 down and only a few living embers were left. Then 
 every bit of ashes was scrupulously cleaned up and
 
 186 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 the floor about the fireplace was wiped clean with a 
 rag. 
 
 Miss Britter and Miss Cane retired, and Mr. Rolan, 
 who lived in that cottage, invited Mr. Liton to bring 
 the letters he had to correct that night to his room, 
 where they could work and guard the cottage at the 
 same time. 
 
 Mr. Liton went for his letters and when he re- 
 turned comfortably seated himself on Rolan's bed, 
 and with a board on his lap, went to work. 
 
 Mr. Liton's eyes filled with tears as he read the 
 first letter. 
 
 "My dear Uncle : 
 
 "It snowed to-day for the first 
 time, and winter will soon be here. All the yellow 
 leaves that looked like gold all autumn are soon 
 going to be covered up with the white snow, and 
 lay that way all winter, till summer comes again; 
 then they will be all rotten and very brown. 
 
 "I am very happy to see the seasons go, for soon 
 I'll be a man and will be free. I am not very happy 
 here and am always thinking of home, and how sad 
 everything turned out. I feel very bad because you 
 didn't come to visit me, it seems to me that you have 
 not yet forgiven me, though you say you have. I 
 know I have disgraced your family after you have 
 done so much for me, but I can only say that maybe 
 some day I will be able to have my revenge upon 
 some of the people I know, by showing them that 
 they are mistaken too, about me. 
 
 "If you don't care to come to see me, let Willie 
 come. It will make me feel so good, or does he feel 
 the same way as you do about me?
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 187 
 
 "Please let him and Annie, too, come if they 
 want to. 
 
 Your Nephew, 
 
 GEORGE." 
 
 The second letter was as significant as the first, 
 and although Mr. Liton had thought that his sym- 
 pathy up to this time had been as deep as it could 
 have been, he felt a deeper sympathy towards these 
 unfortunate boys now than ever. His heart went 
 out for them. 
 
 "My dear Mother: 
 
 "It is now over a year since I 
 was taken away here, and as I see the snowflakes 
 falling I begin to think about you and Charlie and 
 Rhoda, and about myself. Why I am here. 
 
 "Mamma, I am sorry to tell you that I have not 
 been as good as I promised you last time I would 
 be, and have gotten another report, and will have 
 to stay here three weeks longer, ljut it is not entirely 
 mv fault. I have a streak of badness in me and, 
 mother, I am struggling very hard with this bad- 
 ness, and I hope to get it out of me. I want to grow 
 up a good man and go out and earn money and help 
 you and the children. It is not all my fault why 
 I got that report. I will tell you why when you 
 come to visit me again. 
 
 "Things are nicer here than they ever were be- 
 fore, and I hope that from now on I will not have 
 to get any more reports. I have a new teacher and 
 he is the best man we ever had here, that's what all 
 the boys say. He started a republic and a council 
 that will help us out and try to show those people 
 when they want to give us reports that we did not 
 mean to be bad, and I think most always we won't 
 get our report if we behave ourselves after that. He
 
 188 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 is going to have a magazine for us, too, and I am 
 working very hard to write something for the first 
 number. I am surely going to have something in 
 it for I have tried very, very hard and have written 
 two stories and a poem, and one little thing about 
 our school and one about autumn and winter. He 
 is also going to have a photography class, and every 
 boy that behaves himself will be able to learn photo- 
 graphy, and I am going to behave myself every 
 minute. I want to learn photography and in that 
 way make some money when I get out and help 
 you. It's nice to know anyway, isn't it? 
 
 "Now please tell Charlie and Rhoda to write to 
 me. I wait all night, the night before the letters 
 can come to us, and can't sleep thinking that to- 
 morrow I'll get some letters. Please write. All the 
 boys in my cottage get letters but I. With love to 
 all, I am, 
 
 Your son, 
 
 BENEDICT." 
 
 "P. S. Please bring me a white sweater next 
 time if you can spare the money, but if you haven't 
 it never mind." 
 
 Mr. Rolan sat on the other end of his bed, his 
 head resting on his left hand, while Mr. Liton read 
 the letters he considered interesting to both. 
 
 "Look for Ernest's letter," said Rolan. "Miss 
 Britter always reads his letters to us ; they are great." 
 
 Mr. Liton searched among the bundle of yellow 
 letters until he came upon it, then read. 
 
 "My dear Mother: 
 
 Another season is dead, and still 
 I am here, and I sometimes wonder how many more 
 seasons will die before I can be with you again. I 
 am feeling unusually blue to-day, so don't worry 
 if my letter is very, very bad. The hill we looked at
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 189 
 
 together, with its towers in the air, is now wrapped 
 in a blinding whirl of snow and leaves, so that 
 everything is obliterated, till it looks as if this were a 
 northern desert, with the air as barren as the sand. 
 Oh, mother, if you can ever realize how within my 
 heart I repent, you will forgive me for the shame 
 I have brought upon you. I feel as though I have 
 been tied to a stone in that desert, and have buried 
 my head in the sand. There are few people I can 
 talk to here. With the exception of my new teacher 
 and Miss Britter and one or two others, there is not 
 a soul that understands me or with whom I can en- 
 joy a conversation. I am fortunate though in hav- 
 ing that new teacher and look forward to a winter 
 more interesting than the last. He is really interest- 
 ed in the boys and wants to help them. He is try- 
 ing to start many lovely things, and if they don't 
 interfere with him, we will be a happy set of boys. 
 Among the many things he is trying to do is the 
 publishing of a magazine, and there is some talk 
 of my being made the editor of it — you know I 
 should like nothing better. 
 
 "I had some trouble with the wretched Mr. Saun- 
 ders. He is the most ignorant man I ever met, es- 
 pecially when he gets drunk or smokes against the 
 rules. Rules were only meant for us to keep. The 
 other day he was a littie tipsy, I think, and when he 
 came into the sitting room I was reading a book in 
 a corner, while a few fellows were making a lot of 
 noise; he started to plot against me. He said that 
 I jumped all around the room till I heard him com- 
 ing and then sat down. It made me very angry and 
 I tried to tell him that he was mistaken, but he 
 wouldn't listen to me and said he saw me do it. 
 Now, mother, I know in my heart that I was sitting 
 righl in thai corner reading. Well. I lost my temper 
 and told him thai he was a liar. He hit me with his 
 fist, lull that's .'ill righl now. In- didn't hurt me much;
 
 190 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 but he and the Colonel, who hates me, too, punish 
 me by putting me into the kitchen scrubbing floors. 
 They wanted me to apologize to him. 
 
 "I will tell you more about everything when you 
 come. Don't speak to anybody about this when you 
 come. They don't know any better and it will only 
 make it worse. 
 
 "My love to all of you. With the hope that I 
 will soon be able to return to civilization, I am your 
 
 boy, 
 
 ERNEST." 
 
 "They'll never let that through," said Rolan. 
 
 "Does anybody else look through these letters 
 besides Miss Britter?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. They're looked over in the office after 
 Miss Britter examines them." 
 
 "Well, then," said Liton, "I won't let it go to the 
 office at all. I'll ask him to write another to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 A noise in the hallway brought both of them 
 to their feet, but it was only the cottage father, who 
 was returning late and tipsy, followed by the cot- 
 tage mother in but slightly better condition. His 
 foot caught in a small rug and tripped him. His 
 wife helped him up again as best she could, and the 
 two walked into their room, the cottage father swear- 
 ing and grumbling. 
 
 Relieved from his vigil, Mr. Liton returned to his 
 own room and went to bed. 
 
 Next morning he was up with the bugle call, and 
 continued correcting his letters, till all were finished. 
 He then started for his class room, having no desire 
 whatever to enter the dining room. Miss Britter was 
 already in her office and apparently upset. 
 
 "Anything wrong?" he asked,
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 191 
 
 ''Yes, there are a number of things wrong." 
 
 "What's the trouble?" 
 
 "To begin with Nida is quite sick. Her lungs 
 are in a very bad condition. I will have to see that 
 she leaves as soon as possible. The conditions here 
 have cost her her health. I wish I could send her 
 to Colorado. I'm thinking I ought to go with her, 
 I'm not feeling very well myself." 
 
 Mr. Liton stood there silently and stared out into 
 the winter-threatening outdoors. A winter indeed 
 seemed to have suddenly come down upon matters. 
 
 "Miss Turner left yesterday." went on Miss Brit- 
 ter, "and her boys too, are to be taken care of. Think 
 of it. I have a friend who would be an ideal teacher 
 for that class, a girl with experience and love for 
 the work. She is willing to give up her position and 
 come here, a distance of about a thousand miles. 1 
 know her and have worked with her for years. She 
 would be an inspiration here, but he won't have 
 her because she is my friend. He is suspicious — and 
 ignorant. 'Too many of these good people here 
 already.' He'd rather have his thirty-five dollar 
 agency teachers, that no one else will have, and rule 
 supreme." 
 
 "He won't have your friend?" 
 
 "No, he'll go to the city to-morrow and get a 
 teacher; but she will be the fifth teacher for that 
 class in the last three months, and I simply will 
 not stand for incompetents any longer. These boys 
 should have the best teachers and not the worst." 
 
 The large hall door was heard to open and the 
 superintendent walked into the hallway, and made 
 for Miss Britter's otncf. His face was pale and his 
 eves flashed fire;
 
 192 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "You will please call a special meeting this after- 
 noon," he said nervously after a very cold "good 
 morning;" then turned about and went to his own 
 office. 
 
 "Something is up." 
 
 "Looks like it," said Miss Britter, "but you can't 
 tell. He may be all smiles by the time the meeting 
 is held." 
 
 But he didn't look much pleasanter that after- 
 noon when he stood on the platform buttoning and 
 unbuttoning his neatly pressed Prince Albert. The 
 cottage parents were all there, beaming as if about 
 to gain a great victory. Mr. Liton, quite weary, 
 stood near Mr. Rolan in one corner. At the opposite 
 end of the room stood Miss Britter, worn out after a 
 day of teaching two classes and the usual principal's 
 duties, thinking of her trunk, a long distance of 
 railroad, and the boys she would leave behind her. 
 
 The superintendent began to speak, "Boys, in 
 creating your republic you have made a great error, 
 a great mistake, and that's what I've gathered you 
 this afternoon to rectify. You have gotten the 
 wrong notion that you, through your council, are 
 to take away and give all reports. I want you to 
 remember that there is only one source for the giv- 
 ing and taking of reports, and that is right here." 
 And the superintendent, with overwhelming dignity, 
 pounded an index finger upon his august breast. 
 "No one can give or take away reports outside of 
 my office. Mr. Liton is a new man here, and though 
 I am sure he meant well, it was a mistake." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," cried Mr. Liton across the 
 room, filled with anger, "but I think you are mis- 
 taken, Mr. Krammer, and I am going to ask you,
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 193 
 
 since you have mentioned my name, to allow me to 
 explain to you my real position in the matter." 
 
 Being unable to do anything else, this having 
 come rather unexpectedly, Mr. Krammer granted 
 him the permission. 
 
 "I want to say first for the boys," began Mr. 
 Liton, "that there is not a single boy here that has 
 had any such a notion. I took special care in ex- 
 plaining over and over again that we, the council, 
 had no such idea in our heads. What we meant, 
 and what we made clear, was that we should try 
 to influence the boys so that they would have to 
 get no reports. That is, that if a teacher or parent 
 wanted to report a boy, if they were willing to, they 
 should give the boy's name to the council and with- 
 hold his report until the council proved to be unable 
 to make that boy behave himself, but if the council did 
 get the boy to behave himself, then the report should 
 be erased entirely. I had it strictly understood that 
 that applies only to those teachers and parents who 
 were in sympathy with the republic and were anx- 
 ious to help us along. That those teachers or parents 
 who did not sympathize with our work need have 
 nothing to do with it, and can go on and give re- 
 ports to their hearts content. 
 
 "If any boy as much as intimated that he thought 
 we were going to give and take away reports to or 
 from any boy, I would like to have that boy get up 
 right here in front of the rest of the boys who are 
 being scolded, and tell Mr. Krammer how he got 
 that notion." 
 
 "Well," began the superintendent again, "where- 
 ever the mistake arose, Mr. Liton, this meeting is 
 simply called to rectify it, and if every boy goes
 
 194 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 away from here knowing just how matters stand, 
 we have nothing more to bother or worry about." 
 
 There was a moment of silence, and Mr. Kram- 
 mer realized that he had made a great fuss over a 
 little thing that could have been explained without 
 that fuss, and to make it appear that this was but a 
 minor part of the programme, pulled out a little 
 book from his pocket, looked at the title page, closed 
 the book and dropping the hand with which he held 
 it to his side, stroked his beard with his other hand 
 and addressed the boys once more. 
 
 "I am going to read to you a little book that I 
 have read to you frequently. It is, in a way, another 
 Bible to me. I have spoken about it to you many 
 times. Who knows what it is?" 
 
 A number of hands went up, and one boy was 
 called upon. 
 
 "A Message to — ," here the boy stopped, he had 
 forgotten. 
 
 "That's right," said Mr. Krammer, coming to his 
 assistance, "A Message to Garcia, by Elbert Hub- 
 bard. I am going to read it to you again, and per- 
 haps many more times. I want you to make it your 
 Bible in a way. I want you to fix those truths in 
 your minds so that you grow up and be successful 
 men, men that the world wants, men that can always 
 get a job — desirable citizens." 
 
 He read. 
 
 Ten minutes of reading and the boys grew rest- 
 less. One little fellow talked incessantly. The Colonel 
 walked over towards him on tiptoes, and not wish- 
 ing to make his punishment audible, grabbed his 
 ear and pinched.it, digging his finger into the lobe. 
 The little fellow shrugged his shoulders and tried
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 195 
 
 to keep himself from screaming, but this seemed 
 only to invite the Colonel to dig deeper, until the 
 little fellow, unable to bear it any longer, shrieked 
 and interrupted the reading. Colonel Reilly then 
 made him rise and took him outside, and Mr. Kram- 
 mer, who had stopped to stare indignantly at the 
 offender, continued his reading. 
 
 The restlessness continued and increased as the 
 pages turned over. Finally, when the boys were 
 actually getting noisy with the stretching of hands 
 and feet, the thing ended, and every boy sat up again 
 to hear Mr. Krammer's renewed praise of the great 
 work. 
 
 The meeting was about to adjourn. Mr. Liton 
 once more interrupted proceedings. "Just one mo- 
 ment, Mr. Krammer. You said that at the next 
 meeting you would have the boys vote on whether 
 they would be willing to give their good behavior 
 money for the support of the magazine." 
 
 "Yes, I'm glad you reminded me." 
 
 Mr. Krammer explained the whole matter to the 
 boys and ended by saying, "Those of you who are 
 willing to give your ten cents a month whenever 
 you earn it by good behavior for the publication of 
 a magazine, raise your right hand." 
 
 Every single boy in the room put up his right 
 hand, and Mr. Krammer with a nod of his head to 
 Mr. Liton, left the platform, but before he reached 
 the door a loud applause broke out that nearly put 
 an end to magazine and republic. The superin- 
 tendent left the room. The boys went wild, the ap- 
 plause grew louder, and finally brought with it 
 thumping on the floor and whistling. It sounded 
 like a riot.
 
 196 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Colonel Reilly was enraged. He stamped his foot 
 and yelled, "Attention," till he grew red in the face. 
 When they finally did quiet down, he promised 
 them that they would have no playing that day, and 
 that the time they had after supper would be spent 
 in standing on line in the school hallway. 
 
 All the letters had already been corrected and re- 
 written, and Miss Britter was to go through them, 
 finally, after supper, so that they could be sent into 
 the office next day. Mr. Rolan and Mr. Liton prom- 
 ised to help her. 
 
 Immediately after supper they all went to visit 
 Nida, whom they found in bed, quite weary. They 
 told her all about the meeting and Nida claimed that 
 that was medicine to her, and that if they would 
 come again and tell of another such a victory she 
 would become entirely well. 
 
 "Come in again after you have looked over the 
 letters, will you?" asked Nida in a pleading tone. 
 
 "Are you very anxious to have your cottage fath- 
 er come in again to tell you that you are making 
 too much noise?" 
 
 "Don't you care about that. We have no other 
 place to gather in but our rooms, and they can't 
 stop us from doing that until they provide another 
 place. You come to-night anyway, and you can 
 make some chocolate. I am sick to-night, so they 
 won't care anyway." 
 
 They returned to the office, and were working 
 away on one letter at a time, with over three hun- 
 dred of them spread on the table, when the heart- 
 sickening "thud, thud," of a long line of boys moved 
 into the hallway. The Colonel and several officers 
 and cadets came along on each side and command-
 
 \ BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 197 
 
 ed threateningly, "Hip, hip — hip, hip, etc." When 
 the first boy had reached the extreme end of the hall 
 and the last had entered the opposite door, they were 
 commanded to halt and then to turn about with 
 their backs on the open door of Miss Britter's office. 
 There they were to stand for an hour. The Colonel 
 and officers brought chairs out from the different 
 class rooms and sat down. 
 
 When the hour was over and they had thrown 
 the weight of their bodies from one foot to the other 
 an innumerable number of times, they were sent to 
 their cottages.* 
 
 ''Did you see them try to look in here?" 
 "Yes, it just breaks my heart. They become 
 worse every day with that treatment. And why 
 shouldn't they?" 
 
 "I certainly would become ungovernable," said 
 Liton, "if I were treated in that way." 
 
 "They are not angels, mind you. I know that 
 some of them can do pretty mean things; but I also 
 know that they are capable of doing the right thing 
 when given half a chance." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by another 
 swing of the doors, and the Colonel's voice was heard 
 once more. He held a runaway by the shoulder and 
 was taking him to the superintendent's office. The 
 office door was locked and the Colonel with one hand 
 full of the boy's coat, stood against the wall, waiting. 
 Miss Britter looked out. The little prisoner rolled 
 his big eyes in her direction, and she recognized 
 Michael Roate. 
 
 ♦The writer can see in this wretched line faces that he 
 knows, faces of weary boys, some of whom are even now 
 doing penance in this unhealthy manner.
 
 198 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 There was a second swing of the doors, and Mr. 
 Krammer, who had been sent for, came in and with- 
 out noticing Michael, put his key into the lock and 
 opened his office door. 
 
 "Mercy," cried Miss Britter, "come away from 
 here at once. If I hear that child cry, I'll go crazy." 
 
 They hastily packed their letters away, locked 
 the office door, and started for Nida's cottage. Nida 
 was found fast asleep, so they took the road to the 
 farm and the valley beyond it. When they returned 
 that night, the office light and all other lights were 
 out, and they knew that Michael was resting on the 
 floor of one of the coops, resenting with bitter tears, 
 the lashes he had received.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 VICTORY 
 
 The turn in affairs at the last meeting had a dual 
 effect on the boys. There were some who were cer- 
 tain, almost beyond a doubt, that the authorities 
 were against Mr. Liton's work and would make it 
 impossible for him to accomplish what he under- 
 took, and, with frowning faces, they expressed them- 
 selves to that effect. On the other hand, most of the 
 boys marked down one after another of his victories, 
 and were as certain that he would be victorious in 
 the end. Both attitudes were degenerating in their 
 effects, for the boys recognized friends and enemies 
 in those who controlled and instructed them, and 
 that was bound to end in disruption of some sort. 
 
 On the staff it had a singular effect. The super- 
 intendent, realizing that the methods he and his as- 
 sistants had employed, merely strengthened the ad- 
 versary's hold on the boys, decided to work with 
 them until the psychological moment should come, 
 when he would change the course of things. He 
 would let them make attempts and see that they 
 failed, while his countenance would express friend- 
 ship and sympathy. 
 
 Miss Britter was willing to teach the first grade 
 herself until a new teacher would be brought; but 
 should the new teacher fail as the others did, she 
 would then prevail upon him to appoint her friend, 
 whom she knew to be capable, who had taught other 
 classes of the kind with far-reaching success, and 
 who was willing to come.
 
 200 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Nida's boys had collected a huge bunch of flow- 
 ers and were happy that her condition had so 
 changed that she was able to come to the class room 
 and receive them. 
 
 The teachers collected stacks of manuscripts 
 from the boys, who now felt assured of the publica- 
 tion of the magazine. After school that afternoon, 
 at the call for help in the editorial room, the re- 
 sponse was so great that it was almost impossible 
 to choose without showing great partiality. Those 
 who were not chosen were given promises for next 
 time, and Miss Britter's office was turned into an 
 editorial room, and three typewriters and a dozen 
 editors, with Ernest as editor-in-chief, worked away 
 with incomparable zeal. Compositions, stories and 
 poems, remarkably good, were read and marked, 
 and the best set aside for publication. Several boys 
 were given drawing paper and pen and ink, and 
 set to work to draw something suitable for the cover. 
 
 By the time the bugle mustered the boys to pre- 
 pare for supper, almost all the work had been done. 
 A few manuscripts were still to be typewritten, and 
 Mr. Krammer gave the necessary permission to Jack, 
 who had learned to typewrite in the office, to spend 
 the evening in Mr. Liton's room, where Mr. Liton had 
 a typewriter of his own, to finish that w r ork. 
 
 There was just time enough before supper to go 
 for a walk, and the same old road was taken. Miss 
 Brand and Miss Greet, who were in the group, ex- 
 pressed their sympathy with the undertakings about 
 to be accomplished, and offered their services. A 
 meeting of the council was planned for the follow- 
 ing evening to show what influence it might have on
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 201 
 
 o {Tenders, and all the teachers were pledged to en- 
 courage and support it. 
 
 After supper Mr. Liton, who was walking down 
 the main roadway towards his cottage, admiring 
 the autumn evening in the valley and on the hill, 
 saw Jack running towards him, delighted with his 
 job and anxious to begin the work. 
 
 They fixed the room up conveniently, arranging 
 the lights to suit the typewriter, and Jack was soon 
 at work at his little table and machine. He worked 
 some time, when Mr. Liton asked him to stop for a 
 while and drink some of the milk that he daily or- 
 dered from a neighboring farm, and eat some of the 
 cookies that he had bought in Abolt for the occasion. 
 
 "I'll be all through in a few minutes," said Jack. 
 "May I go on till I am through?" 
 
 "All right, if you'd rather." 
 
 Both were at work again, Mr. Liton in front of 
 his library, which all the boys never tired of ad- 
 miring, and Jack thumping away at the keys, which 
 to him in this case sounded like music. 
 
 "I am through," said Jack finally, and with an 
 air of triumph and importance, handed the neatly 
 written manuscripts to his employer, as he called 
 him. 
 
 "Now you have some of this," said Mr. Liton, 
 "and let's sit and talk awhile. You still have three- 
 quarters of an hour." 
 
 Jack drank some of the milk nervously and be- 
 gan with something that had evidently bothered him 
 a long time. 
 
 "Mr. Liton, do you think that a story of my life 
 would interest the boys — I mean if you published it 
 a little at a time in the magazine?"
 
 202 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I am sure it would." 
 
 "You know my life was different from the lives 
 of most other boys. I have traveled almost all over 
 the world. I have been in Australia, Africa, India, 
 New Zealand, across the Pacific to San Francisco, 
 and across the United States to New York." 
 
 "Well — I should say. That will be very interest- 
 ing. Why didn't you tell me about it before? I 
 should like to have had the first instalment published 
 in the first number." 
 
 "I didn't know for sure that you would think it 
 good enough." 
 
 "That was foolish. Tell me more about it now." 
 
 "I was born in Sydney, Australia," began Jack, 
 with a far-away look in his eyes, "and my father had 
 a cigar store there. They did some gambling and 
 had me run errands. My mother suffered a great 
 deal; I can remember her crying many nights in the 
 kitchen by the lamplight, or on the steps of the 
 stoop looking up the street. Then she and my sister 
 Nan ran away, and about a year later my father 
 wanted to get rid of me and sent me off to an uncle 
 of mine in New York. I was kept on board the first 
 boat like a prisoner. Then I got sick and was left 
 with a white man in Borneo, who kept me a few 
 months sleeping on a board that he put over a kind 
 of bath tub, and I became worse, and then he sent 
 me away on another ship. Like that I went from 
 one ship to another until I reached San Francisco. 
 From there I was taken on many trains to New York. 
 My uncle was nice to me for a little while, and then 
 began to treat me bad. He never let me have a cent, 
 and hit me all the time. I ran away from home, but 
 he caught me and whipped me more. He had a
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 203 
 
 cigar store, too, and he made me work very hard in 
 it. Then I stole some money and got away as far 
 as Buffalo, where I hoped to get work and then pay 
 him back, but. the police caught me there and sent 
 me back, and then I was sent here." 
 
 "You don't know where your mother and sister 
 are?" 
 
 "No," replied Jack, and began to cry bitterly. 
 
 "Don't cry," said Mr. Liton, himself in tears. "I 
 will try to help you find them." 
 
 "Oh, no, please don't," begged Jack, very much 
 alarmed, "that may make it worse. That will make 
 them know that I am in a reform school, and maybe 
 they won't want to have me find them. When I 
 leave this place I will work and earn some money, 
 and then I will try to find them, and they won't know 
 that I ever was in a reform school, and they'll be 
 glad to see me." 
 
 To Jack's little mind the excitement had brought 
 back pictures so vivid that he felt as if he had been 
 torn from those he loved, all over again. "If my 
 mother had been with me, I never would have come 
 here," he continued. 
 
 Mr. Liton tried very hard to comfort him. He 
 knew that every boy was anxious to get into the 
 photography class, and he thought of a scheme. 
 
 "I'll tell you what I will do. I am going to put 
 you into my photography class and teach you to 
 make good pictures, and as soon as you get out, I 
 will try to get you a position with a photographer 
 where you can earn money, and then try to get to 
 where your mother is." 
 
 This had its effect. In a short while, with the 
 aid of additional promises, he was smiling through
 
 204 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 his tears, and the two walked out. Not far from his 
 cottage, to which Mr. Liton was taking him, they 
 met the Colonel. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he demanded of 
 Jack, paying no attention whatever to Mr. Liton. 
 
 "I was helping Mr. Liton. Mr. Krammer told me 
 to." 
 
 "He didn't tell you to stay as long as this. Get 
 to your cottage right away — double time!" 
 
 Before Mr. Liton was aware of what had hap- 
 pened, the boy had left him on a run, while the 
 Colonel turned about and walked away. Mr. Liton 
 was enraged and was half inclined to go after him 
 and tell him what he thought of him, but a second 
 thought sent him on his way to Mr. Staver's cottage. 
 
 "Good! you're wanted," cried Nida, just as he 
 entered. "We have several very interesting things 
 we want to entertain you with." 
 
 "First, let me introduce you to my wife," said Mr. 
 Staver, "this is the first time she has been up in three 
 months." 
 
 Mrs. Staver sat in a well-pillowed chair near the 
 fireplace; the girls sat on either side of her and 
 Rolan sat near his window looking out. 
 
 "Then," he continued, "we want you to hear 
 our new violin solo." 
 
 "I shall be very glad to, Mr. Staver, but I do wish 
 vou could turn the steam on a little." 
 
 "Can't. One of the pipes broke. I have been 
 after the engineer and Mr. Krammer till I'm sick of 
 doing so. It is three weeks now and it hasn't been 
 attended to yet, It was mighty cold last night." 
 
 "It's cold enough to-night."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 205 
 
 '•It must be awful in the dormitories. They have 
 all the windows open." 
 
 ''I heard my boys close them last night," said 
 Mr. Staver, "but I never moved. I let them do it. 
 Why not? Why should they freeze?" 
 
 "It's worse though to let them sleep without air." 
 
 "You see I haven't got blankets enough for them 
 either. I ordered more blankets last winter, yet I 
 don't expect them for this winter. Our superin- 
 tendent is economical." 
 
 The violin solo was finally played, and Mr. Liton 
 insisted on its being played three times before he 
 would listen to the other entertainment they had 
 for him. 
 
 "Now you can tell me what you want to," he said, 
 after the solo ended its third encore. 
 
 "We want you to read a few pages from Mr. 
 Krammer's last annual report, where he tells the 
 world what is done at Abolt School to reform the 
 bad boys," said Miss Britter. 
 
 Xida interrupted her, "You mean for the uplift 
 of the boys in our charge." 
 
 "I don't care to road about their uplift," replied 
 Li (on, "I have seen them often enough drop them 
 down." 
 
 "No, but read it: il is a joke and you'll enjoy it." 
 
 "No, no! No reports for me. I have read those 
 lies so many times and in so many forms that it 
 will only make me feel like strangling somebody. I 
 know what he says as well as you do who have read 
 it." 
 
 "But you don't know what ideal people we have 
 here, till you read it — how the boys are segregated, 
 how ih" cottage mothers and fathers study each
 
 206 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 individual child in order to give them the greatest 
 possible opportunity of understanding him, and — " 
 
 "This refers particularly to Messrs. and Mrs. 
 Bloate and Saunders, and — " 
 
 "Please put it away. It's more like a funeral 
 than an entertainment to me, it makes me weep. 
 Let's have some more music." 
 
 The concert continued until the lights went out, 
 when everybody retired. 
 
 The next evening the council met in Mr. Liton's 
 class room. The twenty members were seated with 
 all the dignity due them, in the first twenty seats 
 in the room. Behind them, and apart from them, 
 sat those of the teachers who cared to be present, 
 and standing on the right side of the room, lined 
 up against the wall, were the offenders. Mr. Liton 
 sat at his desk, looking over a list of names of offen- 
 ders and their different offences. 
 
 "Samuel King," he called out, "you are the first 
 on the list. Please come up here in front." 
 
 "Miss Britter will you kindly tell the council 
 what this boy is up here for?" 
 
 "This boy," began Miss Britter, "is in the first 
 grade. Every one of the teachers he has had com- 
 plains that he starts all the trouble in the room. I 
 want to give him the full fifteen marks every week 
 until he does differently, but I will leave it to the 
 council. If they can suggest anything better, since 
 I am only trying to help Samuel, I will do as they 
 say." 
 
 "What have you to say for yourself?" 
 
 Samuel cried as if he was about to be murdered. 
 It took him several minutes to calm down far enough 
 to be able to speak.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 207 
 
 "They always say," he sobbed, "that I do it. 
 Everything is blamed on me. I asked her for paper 
 and she made me go to my seat." 
 
 "And that happened every single day, did it, 
 Samuel?" 
 
 Samuel couldn't answer. 
 
 "I move," said one member of the council, rising, 
 "that Samuel should be kept on line for a week, and 
 if during that week be behaves himself and does his 
 work as he should, be allowed to play again, and 
 the reports should not be given to him; but if he 
 doesn't behave himself and doesn't do his work, he 
 should get fifteen marks and stay another week on 
 line." 
 
 "I don't agree with that," said another member. 
 "Even bad boys must play. I say we should either 
 let him have the fifteen marks — " Here he was in- 
 terrupted by the renewed wailing of Samuel. He 
 went on "or, if he promises faithfully to behave 
 himself, hold the fifteen marks over for a week, 
 and if he has kept his promise by that time, we 
 should forget about his marks." 
 
 This was then put into the form of a motion, 
 most of the boys having agreed to that, and second- 
 ed and carried. 
 
 "William Mason," said Mr. Liton, "please come 
 forward." 
 
 William Mason was a bigger boy. The matter 
 struck him as being somewhat funny, and he strug- 
 gled very hard to keep back a laugh, pinching his 
 hands held back of him, looking up at the ceiling 
 and down at his audience at intervals, and wishing 
 that it was all over.
 
 208 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Miss Brand, is this your boy?" 
 
 "Yes, he is." 
 
 "Will you kindly tell the council why you have 
 him here?" 
 
 "Certainly," said Miss Brand, coming forward. 
 "He is very impudent, talks back, and is always up 
 to all sorts of tricks. I wanted to give him fifteen 
 marks again, but I thought I'd wait and see what 
 the council can do with him." 
 
 "What have you got to say for yourself?" asked 
 Mr. Liton. 
 
 "I can't say anything," answered William, who 
 had sobered up considerably at the mention of 
 fifteen marks. "What's the use of my savin' any- 
 thing; nobody'll believe me anyway." 
 
 "If you tell the truth," said Mr. Liton, "there's 
 not a person in this room that won't believe you." 
 
 "I try very hard to do the right thing," William 
 began again, "but she, Miss Brand, has made up 
 her mind that whenever I laugh I laugh at her. I 
 don't know what for, and everything I do, she takes 
 for that. I am not impudent, that's my way of 
 talking, that's all." 
 
 "Let me tell you, William," said Mr. Liton slow- 
 ly and seriously, "if you really want to do what is 
 right, you must stop that bad habit of laughing that 
 way. It may be true that you mean nothing bad 
 by that conduct, but it is not only Miss Brand who 
 won't like it, no matter what you mean by it, When 
 you go out into the world, William, you'll be a very 
 unhappy man if you act that way there, if you 
 don't break that bad habit. Nobody objects to hon- 
 est laughter, but everybody resents, dislikes a silly 
 impudent laugh. And they don't stop to ask why
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 209 
 
 you do it, out in the world, but they treat you for 
 what you do." 
 
 "I move," said another member, "that we ask all 
 the members of the literary and athletic committees 
 not to use him for anything anywhere until Miss 
 Brand tells us next time we meet that he doesn't 
 do that any more." 
 
 William frowned a little at that, and another mem- 
 ber changed the motion to the effect that if William 
 showed any signs of trying to do better, to Miss 
 Brand's satisfaction, nothing would be held against 
 him. 
 
 Miss Brand agreed to that, and promised to make 
 a report at the next meeting. One after another of 
 the offenders was brought to the front of the room, 
 admonished and given the much desired other 
 "chance." The councilmen were inexperienced but 
 showed sign of possible legal ability. As they went 
 on in their work some of them warmed up almost 
 into lawyers, and spoke like little men. 
 
 The teachers were certain that the offenders 
 would not cease to offend, but they could not help 
 feeling that there was something about this meeting 
 that promised to grow into a great influence. The 
 boys, on the other hand, now felt that their teachers 
 were anxious to be fair. Then, too, when they re- 
 ceived punishments prior to this, offenders always 
 felt that the sympathy of their comrades, no matter 
 whether they were right or wrong, was with them, 
 for they always so expressed themselves in the 
 basement when such matters were discussed; but 
 now there was a different state of affairs. The boys 
 themselves were administering the punishments, and 
 instead of sympathizing with the offenders they
 
 210 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 would almost ostracize him from the society he re- 
 spected most. The law of the gang was their own 
 law, and they respected their own laws, for who, 
 save a slave, respects any but his own "gang" law? 
 — laws that he, in some direct or indirect way has 
 had something to say about in the making. 
 
 Early next morning Mr. Liton had an interview 
 with the superintendent, and then left his office over- 
 joyed. 
 
 "I am to make out a list for the photographic 
 materials at once, and they will be ordered and here 
 in a week," he told his friends in Miss Britter's 
 office. 
 
 The teachers were very glad to be assured of the 
 possibility of a photography class, but the boys, 
 when informed, were more than glad. They could 
 hardly do their work. It was impossible for them 
 to direct their thoughts upon anything else. The 
 boy who was wheeling the rubber hose across the 
 lawn broke into a run at sight of Mr. Liton and en- 
 quired, "Will I be in the photographic class?" 
 
 "Have you tried to do what was right? Have 
 you behaved yourself in school?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; you ask Miss Cane. I get into no trou- 
 ble at all, and I have had no reports in the last 
 month." 
 
 "Then Miss Cane will probably tell me that. I 
 will take only those who know enough to do what 
 is right." 
 
 The boy then ran off with his hose, kicking up 
 his heels with delight, as he ran. 
 
 On their way with ash-cans, waiting on the steps 
 of the dining room, driving the sheep, going to the 
 farm, or merely crossing the hallway, wherever a
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 211 
 
 boy happened to meet Mr. Liton, there the same 
 conversation ensued, "Am I going to be in the 
 photography class?" 
 
 And always they were answered, "If you have 
 done the right thing, and intend to keep on doing 
 what is right." 
 
 Two weeks followed. Never before had the boys 
 experienced feelings of hope and desire, as they 
 did during those fourteen days. Wonderful things 
 were in preparation and each one wondered whether 
 he was going to be a participator, and with every 
 act, curried favor. A dark gloomy coop, a sort of 
 musty attic on the third floor of the school, that for 
 many years had imprisoned and nurtured with the 
 horror of its gloom boy after boy, till the walls and 
 floor upon which they left their names scribbled with 
 jackknife, or nail, or piece of broken window pane, 
 were covered with a hieroglyphic story of brutality, 
 was turned into a photographic dark room, and this 
 transformation unconsciously wiped away half the 
 horror associated in their minds with Abolt School, 
 for one of the gloomiest of all the coops they feared 
 was no more. On the two windows it had, they 
 fastened with hinges, two opaque wooden blinds to 
 shut out the light when absolute darkness was de- 
 sirable. Shelves were built, and a ruby light was 
 installed, and the boys fought with each other for 
 the opportunity to work up there. 
 
 The council, anxious to prove its value, had in- 
 fluenced a number of boys who had been looked 
 upon as incorrigihles, to behave themselves, and 
 some of these fellows so placed in positions of trust 
 for the Republic that they soon looked upon them- 
 selves as highly important citizens of the communi-
 
 212 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 ty, and saw to it, by special acts of good citizenship, 
 that they were so considered by others. The literary 
 committee gathered a vast amount of contributions 
 to the magazine, and with the athletic committee, 
 planned a great entertainment for their parents and 
 the Board of Directors. 
 
 The photographic materials came, and class after 
 class was taken up into the dark room and allowed to 
 feast their eyes upon the most fascinating little cam- 
 eras, the awe-inspiring big camera, and the whole 
 mysterious outfit. Mr. Liton explained the process 
 rapidly to each class and set up the large instrument, 
 that they might be especially fascinated by the up- 
 turned view of the hill on the ground glass. What 
 an effect upon the school that was. There was no 
 other ambition in any boy's heart than, "to do what 
 was right," and become a member of the photo- 
 graphic class. 
 
 One Friday morning, a number of days later, 
 Mr. Liton made his way to the superintendent's cot- 
 tage with a small bundle under his arm. He rang 
 the bell and was asked to come in by the superin- 
 tendent himself, and after Mr. Krammer had com- 
 fortably seated himself in his desk chair, Mr. Liton 
 handed him a number of copies of the Abolt School 
 Magazine, anxious to see what effect it was going to 
 have upon him. 
 
 But he was disappointed. The superintendent 
 did not seem to be the least enthusiastic. 
 
 "Well," he drawled out, "of course it all depends 
 upon how they take to it." 
 
 "Don't you think they ought to be very happy 
 with so beautiful a magazine?"
 
 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 213 
 
 "We don't know how they will take it. That 
 remains to be seen." 
 
 Mr. Liton was disgusted. There was no excuse 
 whatever for such an attitude. Instead of encourag- 
 ing, he was discouraging: if ever any one was out 
 of his province, he was. 
 
 "We shall give them out at our meeting this 
 afternoon," said Mr. Liton, coolly, having lost his 
 enthusiasm, "and we should like to have you present 
 and talk to the boys about it. I have arranged with 
 a number of musical friends for their coming this 
 afternoon and playing for the boys. They have 
 formed a quartette and play very beautifully." 
 
 "Yes, certainly, I'll come," said the superinten- 
 dent, suddenly enlivened by an idea. "Are your 
 friends coming for supper?" 
 
 "I don't think so." 
 
 "Well, I just wanted to say, if they do come 
 for supper, I would be glad to entertain them at my 
 home here." 
 
 "I think they will have their dinner before they 
 come," said Mr. Liton, and left. 
 
 The musicians came that night as they promised, 
 and when the boys, who were gathered in the as- 
 sembly room awaiting some great surprise, for this 
 feeling was prevalent, saw the musicians file in 
 and up the platform carrying a 'cello and two vio- 
 lins, they thought that was the surprise and applaud- 
 ed with fervor. 
 
 The quartette played three numbers and received 
 an ovation that bade fair to their coming again and 
 again. 
 
 When the noise of their approval died down, 
 the door to the left opened and Mr. Liton entered,
 
 214 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 carrying a heavy suit case. This was a clue to 
 the real surprise in store for them, and every boy 
 solved the mystery. 
 
 Mr. Krammer entered and took a seat in the back 
 of the room, among the cottage fathers and mothers 
 that had come to see what it was going to be like. 
 
 Mr. Liton began to speak, and every boy in the 
 room ceased moving. He told them that, beautiful 
 as this first number was, their magazine was going 
 to grow more beautiful and more interesting with 
 each succeeding number. He asked them to con- 
 tinue sending contributions, and concluded by say- 
 ing that the magazine had so much to say for itself 
 that he felt it unnecessary to add any more, and 
 called upon the representatives to come and get 
 enough copies for each of the boys in their cottages 
 and for the cottage parents. 
 
 Like the pressing of a button in a great shop 
 setting the machinery into motion, putting life into 
 a dead, silent factory, so the distribution of the maga- 
 zine set muscle and brain into action. Some ran 
 through the pages eagerly, some read parts aloud, 
 and others clapped hands. The little fellows who 
 found their own names printed, for any reason 
 whatever, ran up to Mr. Liton, pointed them out to 
 him, their faces burning and their eyes flashing. 
 
 Mr. Liton walked along one of the aisles to the 
 back of the room where the superintendent sat, and 
 bending down so that he might hear, said, "Would 
 you like to speak to the boys, Mr. Krammer?" 
 
 Mr. Krammer felt queer, but tried to hide his 
 feelings. He turned his face up, and full of smiles, 
 answered, "They don't want to listen to me; they 
 are too busy, just now."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 AN INTERMINABLE REFORMATION 
 
 Superintendent Krammer was a disappointed 
 man when he awoke on Sunday morning and saw 
 the sky overhung by dark, heavy clouds. So many 
 interesting visitors were coming to see the drill and 
 parade. Mr. Liton was to take a photograph, and 
 the photograph was to accompany an article to be 
 written by a newspaper man who was to be one of 
 the visitors. The superintendent saw himself the 
 most important figure in that picture, and thought 
 of the many people that were to see it. "You can't 
 pull such a stunt off every Sunday," thought he. 
 "If it rains or snows to-day, it may never be done." 
 
 There was one hopeful thing about those dark 
 gray clouds. They traveled as individuals, and the 
 wind was blowing them away. It might clear up. 
 
 And it did clear up, the visitors did come, and 
 the grounds were one great hive with so many ex- 
 cited bees. 
 
 Each cottage had its visiting day. That is, the 
 boys in each set of three cottages could invite their 
 friends to come and visit them one Sunday each 
 month. Cottage One with two other cottages had 
 this Sunday for their friends, and Michael, Dick and 
 Skinny were anxiously awaiting the afternoon. 
 
 The Superintendent had issued strict orders, 
 which his trusty assistants obeyed, and now, with 
 his specially interesting visitors, he stood watching 
 the preparations for the great parade, and telling 
 the wonderful things that were being done — of the
 
 216 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 many boys who were being reformed and the small 
 percentage that ever returned or were ever sentenced 
 to other institutions. 
 
 In the grove that afternoon were gathered the 
 many varieties of parents and packages. The boys 
 with them were dressed in their uniforms and car- 
 ried their guns awaiting the bugle, when they would 
 have to leave them and go on parade. Among the 
 queer groups of poorly dressed people, one could 
 see an occasional ostrich feather shoot up from some 
 woman's head. Here, too, were to be seen the bare 
 heads of Nida and Miss Britter, gliding about from 
 place to place, as usual. 
 
 Michael's mother sat in one corner questioning 
 him. Mr. and Mrs. Dampfel, not far off, were busy 
 with their beloved child, while Dick's friends had to 
 go to the hospital, where Dick was convalescing af- 
 ter a very serious operation. 
 
 Mrs. Dampfel was engaged in her usual crying 
 and patting and kissing her offspring, and promis- 
 ing him all kinds of rewards if he behaved himself 
 and earned his parole, when Skinny began to com- 
 plain plaintively, "I don't feel good. This gun is 
 too heavy for me. I am sick." 
 
 Mrs. Dampfel, realizing her inability to do any- 
 thing for him, continued patting and consoling him. 
 "It won't take long. Then ask them to let you go 
 to bed." 
 
 Miss Britter came along. Mr. Dampfel saw her 
 coming in their direction, and he ran to meet her. 
 
 "My boy is sick," he told her. "Can't he be ex- 
 cused from parading to-day?" 
 
 "Is that so?"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 217 
 
 Miss Britter walked up to where Skinny stood 
 with his mother. 
 
 '•Don't you feel good, Ludwig?" she asked. "What 
 is the matter?" 
 
 Ludwig cried, "I don't feel good. This gun is 
 too heavy for me." 
 
 "Well, you wait here for me. I'll see that you 
 are excused." 
 
 She ran about looking for the authorities, and 
 Nida went with her. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Bloate," she cried upon seeing him, 
 "may I speak to you a moment?" 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Bloate, and smiled. 
 
 "One of your little fellows doesn't feel well. Can 
 he be excused from drill to-day?" 
 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 "Ludwig Dampfel." 
 
 "Skinny? Don't you believe him. He's just mak- 
 ing out he's sick. He ain't sick. He hasn't gotten 
 over the licking he got for running away yet. That's 
 what's the matter with him." 
 
 Seeing that nothing could be done there, they 
 hurried off to higher authority. 
 
 "Colonel Reilly, I would like to speak to you." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "One of the little fellows is sick, and cannot 
 carry his gun. Can't he be excused from drill to- 
 day?" 
 
 "Who is sick?" 
 
 "Ludwig Dampfel." 
 
 "Huh! Skinny! Don't you believe it. Skinny 
 isn't sick. He is the foxiest little fellow here. He 
 can't get over the dose he got some time ago. He 
 is the kind of a kid that knows that people will
 
 218 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 sympathize with him, and he takes advantage of 
 you. No, no. Every boy has got to drill to-day." 
 
 "But he is ill and can't carry his gun." 
 
 "Oh, never mind about that. Every boy's got to 
 drill to-day. Those are the orders." 
 
 "I'll see Mr. Krammer about that." 
 
 "See whom you like. I don't see what you're but- 
 tin' in about anyway. This ain't your province." 
 
 Just then the bugle rang out, and every boy 
 deserted his parents at once and made for the line, 
 Skinny among them. 
 
 The parade was a success. The newspaper man 
 bubbled over with delight, and formulated his 
 thoughts on "What is being done for the Delin- 
 quent." The Superintendent had exhibited his offi- 
 cial importance, and had been photographed, and the 
 silk-gloved visitors had applauded with emotion — 
 Skinny had dragged his feet along and carried the 
 heavy gun. 
 
 The parade had been a success, and towards twi- 
 light the automobiles turned down the hill and 
 away, and the Superintendent, his mind almost in- 
 toxicated with the congratulations he had received 
 and was receiving, went with them ; but Skinny ate 
 no supper that evening. He proved to his cottage 
 father, beyond a doubt this time, that he was unable 
 to carry himself to the dining room, and so was al- 
 lowed to go up into the attic and sleep it off on the 
 cadet's bed. His mother and father worried into 
 hysterics, caught Miss Britter by the arm, before 
 they left, and got her promise to let them know just 
 how he felt. 
 
 It was seven o'clock that evening, when the win- 
 ter day had expired and the early night had settled
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 219 
 
 down upon the hill, biting cold and clear, that Miss 
 Britter, Miss Cane, Mr. Rolan, and Mr. Liton, on 
 their way for a walk, passed Cottage One, saw the 
 light in the cadet's room, and heard a sobbing and 
 a wailing that was heart-rending coming from it. 
 
 They rushed to the door and rang the bell. 
 
 "Skinny's got a little fever," said Father Bloate, 
 in answer to their question, "that's all." 
 
 "May we come in to see him?" 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "May I go up to see him?" 
 
 "What does anybody have to go up to see him 
 for? He's got a little fever, and my wife's doing 
 all that needs to be done for him." 
 
 By this time the moaning became more painful 
 to hear, and Miss Britter became desperate. 
 
 "If you don't let me go up to see that child, I 
 shall go to the village at once and get a constable." 
 
 Mr. Bloate burning with rage, flung the door 
 open and walked in. Miss Britter and Nida rushed 
 up stairs, while the boys waited for them. 
 
 The window above flew open soon after, and 
 Miss Britter put out her head and called down, 
 "Boys, please run to Abolt at once and summon Dr. 
 Wood and a nurse, if possible." 
 
 The boys made off for the village, and Miss 
 Britter, Nida, and Mrs. Bloate, sat about the bed on 
 which poor little Skinny, in high fever, extolled the 
 beauty of the parade in terms no newspaper man 
 could make use of. 
 
 He was in delirium. He had paraded that after- 
 noon, and he, too, had enjoyed the spectacle, and 
 his eulogy rose into the room and out high into the 
 air.
 
 220 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Oh, please dont hit me," he cried, and begged 
 and pleaded. "I can't carry that gun— please 
 — please don't hit me— please don*t hit me — I can't 
 carry that gun— Oh, oh, my shoulder— oh, my 
 shoulder— I can't carry that gun— please don't hit 
 me — I can't carry that gun." 
 
 The women applied cold water to the burning 
 little forehead; then, unable to do any more, sat back 
 upon the chairs which Father Bloate had ordered 
 one of his boys to take up, and cried. 
 
 The cadet's room was an unfinished age-stained 
 attic, with its age-stained rafters projecting from the 
 ceiling, and supporting spider's webs and the pic- 
 ture postals that the meditating William had hung 
 upon them. In this little room, upon the very bed 
 upon which his fellow unfortunate was burning 
 away, unconscious, he had often sat and admired 
 his postals and the narrow little world in which he 
 alone of all the rest had a kind of freedom. Wil- 
 liam was not there, but his better half, the better 
 half that all of us show when we are alone, sur- 
 rounded by four wooden walls, in a narrow, light- 
 less space, hovered about everywhere, in every cor- 
 ner in which he had a bat or a box for letters or a 
 pile of books. This was his little nook, and here he 
 never was called upon to kick any one. He was 
 not here now, nor was he going to be here this 
 night nor the next. He slept in Skinny's bed. 
 
 The doctor came, commented on the height of 
 the fever, and left a dose of medicine and a nurse. 
 
 Two nights and a day the child lay upon that 
 little bed, and begged and pleaded. Oh, that his 
 poor little prayers, so much believed in then, might 
 have been answered before. When once death de-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 221 
 
 cides to come, it makes no difference how young 
 the little sinner or how unfair fate had been to him, 
 how little of joy or how much of misery and pain 
 have been his reward for living — death comes! 
 
 The human bundle of sticks, ashes, and flame, 
 of bone, skin, and fever, was removed to the hospital, 
 and the decrepit father and mother came to bend 
 still more their crooked backs, to watch him — to 
 pray that his life remain and suffering continue. 
 But prayers were useless. The jovial Mr. Sarving 
 sat near them reading a funny page of a magazine, 
 occasionally commanding that the old couple stop 
 yelling, often snoring away in sleep, till the death 
 rattle closed the little throat, stretched out the weary 
 little legs and removed the heavy gun from his child- 
 ish shoulders.* Then the nurse stretched his limbs 
 and, yawning, covered the little body with a cloth, 
 and conducted the old couple out doors, where the 
 world was white, where all night long had fallen 
 thick and playfully myriads of large flakes, and 
 hidden the bare earth, the bare trees, and the hard 
 edges of the institution. 
 
 They trailed past the grove where they had seen 
 him last, stopped one moment; then the old man 
 himself, grown more gray in this single night, took 
 the mother by the arm and hurried past the school 
 and out upon the road towards the railroad station 
 in Abolt. 
 
 When they reached the valley below they heard 
 the bugle call, awaking so many, yet unable to wake 
 
 ♦For a report of similar cases see newspaper articles in 
 appendix.
 
 222 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 one more. The little bugler's voice called out loud 
 and long, pulled them all but one from their beds, 
 and buried itself in the newly fallen snow. 
 
 One less to reform ! One interminably reformed !
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE BATTLE LOST 
 
 Skinny left a gloomy spell upon the place. His 
 little body was packed into a small pine coffin and 
 was sent to the home he had longed to see and hoped 
 still to enjoy. The entire week was marked by ex- 
 ceptionally bad weather. It snowed still more, and 
 for a few hours twice that week rain came down 
 and the saturated snow hardened into ice. The 
 boys wore corduroy in place of their canvas suits, 
 and were very cold and miserable, and acted accord- 
 ingly. Neither the Principal nor her teachers were 
 able to work as they had worked before. Miss Cane, 
 who had helped by sitting up nights with the dying 
 child, was again sick in bed. The cheerless sky it- 
 self seemed to hold out over the hill an impending 
 calamity, and with throbbing pulses all seemed to 
 feel it. Colonel Reilly and his staff of officers re- 
 sented the effect of the death of poor Skinny upon 
 the boys as a whole, and determined to beat that out 
 of them. There was almost a continual yelling and 
 crying coming from some corner of the institution 
 — a boy's ear lobes were jerked into bleeding, 
 several eyes were blacked, one lip was swollen, and 
 one fellow was struck on the wrist with a mop 
 stick, and his hand was temporarily made useless. 
 The place assumed, more and more each day the 
 aspect of a slaughter house,* and Mr. Liton made 
 
 *" , 13 years of age, received at the 
 
 hospital, November 22, 1912, with severe contusions of the 
 face which he said he received by being struck in the face
 
 224 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 a desperate attempt to put an end to those conditions. 
 
 It was on Sunday, exactly a week after little 
 Skinny took his leave, that he went to the city to 
 talk the matter over with a lawyer friend of his, 
 and incidentally went to see Mr. and Mrs. Dampfel 
 in their tiny flat in the slums. It was hard to find. 
 After stumbling about a number of dark corridors, 
 and receiving a number of directions from a number 
 of strange people, he rapped on a door that was 
 opened by the now aged Mr. Dampfel. The old 
 man shook his head as a greeting and ushered him 
 into the room that served as a kitchen, dining room, 
 sitting room, and possibly, drawing room. It was 
 neatly kept and in its decoration revealed a touch of 
 the artistic. In the center stood a small table spread 
 with a white clean table cloth and covered with all 
 the finest dishes the old lady possessed. It was ready 
 for a feast. 
 
 The gas-light was lit, though it was day time 
 out doors, and for a few seconds Mr. Liton could see 
 nothing, having come from dark corridors, but as 
 soon as his eyes became accustomed to the change 
 in light, he saw the old woman seated on the other 
 side of the table and somewhat apart from it, 
 knitting. She knitted away with exceptional rapid- 
 ity, apparently in the best of spirits, and the old 
 man, who had resumed his seat near the door, was 
 carefully watching her. Every few minutes she 
 would throw the thing she was knitting upon a 
 
 with a butcher knife; .... ... 
 
 , 16 years old, alleged to have been 
 
 struck on the head with a shovel by a keeper June 9, 1912, 
 
 treated by , a nurse, while Dr. 
 
 was away."— Philadelphia Inquirer, February 21, 
 
 1913, in an article discussing reformatory complaints.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 225 
 
 chair near her, stretch, walk to the clock that ticked 
 away on a mantel piece, look at it carefully and 
 long, and return to her former position and occu- 
 pation. 
 
 "She's mad," said Mr. Dampfel, shrugging his 
 shoulders and pointing his thumb at her. "She has 
 prepared a feast for Luddy and expects him home 
 any moment. She says he's paroled." 
 
 At sound of the last word she jumped up again 
 and, in spite of the old man's objections, demanded 
 of the stranger, "Haven't you seen Luddy? He's 
 coming home to-day." 
 
 "We're to send her away," murmured the old 
 man, when asked as to the fate of his wife. "I ex- 
 pect them here for her every minute." 
 
 Poor Mr. Dampfel, he didn't know just exactly 
 what he was going to do about himself. They had 
 come from Germany many years ago and had no 
 friends in this country at all. "About the best thing 
 I can do now," he guessed, "is to die." 
 
 Suddenly a shriek escapod the woman, that made 
 things dance before Mr. Liton's eyes. He rose, un- 
 certain as to what was best to be done. The woman 
 had thrown down the material she had been work- 
 ing on and jumped up, tearing her hair. Another 
 shriek escaped her more terrible than the first, 
 and simultaneously with it, to the relief of the old 
 man as well as Mr. Liton, the door flew open and 
 two men in uniforms, accompanied by a policeman, 
 rushed in and grabbed her. 
 
 It was an awful struggle; the men fought with 
 her for a few minutes then finally conquered her, 
 bound her hands and feet, and paying no attention 
 to her screaming and tugging, carried her below,
 
 226 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 and put her into the ambulance and dashed off with 
 her. 
 
 Mr. Liton with Mr. Dampfel had followed them 
 below, but as they reached the hallway on the 
 ground floor, the old man saw the great crowd that 
 had gathered before the building. Without saying 
 a word to Mr. Liton, who was anxious to get out 
 into the open, he hastily retraced his steps back 
 into his shattered home. It was the last Mr. Liton 
 ever saw of him. He rushed out upon the street and 
 on to his friend's, lest he, too, lose his mind. 
 
 "There is nothing to be done," his legal advisor 
 informed him. "These things are controlled by 
 powers you can't meddle with. Liton, I'm sorry to 
 tell you so, but it is true, nevertheless, your battle 
 is lost, and, as a friend of yours, I'd advise you to 
 leave and forget about it. There is not a paper in 
 this city save perhaps a socialistic or anarchistic 
 paper, that will print your story, and I don't care 
 how much they prate about being the friends of 
 children and so forth. There are a number of mem- 
 bers of the board of directors of your institution 
 who advertise, department stores and other kinds of 
 stores, in every paper of any value in the city, and 
 no paper will tell the truth about anything that 
 an advertiser is interested in. You try it and you'll 
 find it so. I'm talking from experience. If they 
 don't succeed in proving before the public in the 
 very newspapers that claim to be the friends of 
 children that you are incapable, they will get plenty 
 of witnesses to prove that you are insane, and if they 
 can't prove that, they will at least have succeeded 
 in blacklisting you so that no other school will have 
 any faith in you. Just one year ago, the only cour-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 227 
 
 ageously honest nurse of an institution for the in- 
 firm brought charges of the most gruesome sort 
 against that institution, and most of the people con- 
 nected with it knew that every word she uttered was 
 truth itself, yet, after a mock trial, before boards of 
 directors and investigating committees, and with 
 the help of doctors of renown, she was found to be 
 insane, and is now reported as dying in an asylum." 
 
 Mr. Liton listened carefully to every word his 
 friend uttered and ran his hand through his hair 
 a number of times as if in despair. His friend 
 watched him, beginning to feel that he had con- 
 vinced him, when Mr. Liton suddenly arose, grabbed 
 his hat, and started for the door. 
 
 "I shall not leave," he said, "I am going to win 
 that battle right there on the grounds." 
 
 It was three o'clock the next morning when he 
 boarded the first train going to Abolt. The city was 
 steeped in the long winter night, and the wind 
 blew hard through the streets. The sky was clear 
 and studded with stars, while the belated moon still 
 cut its brilliant shape above a towering skyscraper. 
 
 The car he boarded contained a number of half- 
 dozing workingmen, and he took his seat as one of 
 them, cleaning the frost-covered window pane, that 
 he might look out upon the retreating city. At every 
 station, he could see many workers, carrying tin 
 pails, already going to their work, and very often 
 children went with them. 
 
 By the time he reached Abolt the dawn had wiped 
 out the night, and the wintry landscape, the woods 
 and homes sparkled in the light, and the snow ground 
 beneath his feet. He made his way up the old hill, 
 a9 he had done countless times, but new feelings
 
 228 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 greeted him now. He was worn out for lack of 
 sleep, yet fully aroused by the forced exercise; and, 
 when the smell of breakfast coffee from the dining 
 room greeted his nostrils, a feeling of hope came 
 over him. Every thing seemed very quiet and peace- 
 ful. The night wind had subsided, and the smoke 
 from the chimneys wound up slowly and gracefully. 
 It was apparent that the cold weather was going to 
 relent, and with it the hard spirit on the grounds 
 between teachers and cottage parents, officers and 
 pupils. But when Mr. Liton stood before his class 
 that morning he knew that something was wrong. 
 
 They were having a lesson in algebra. He had 
 given the boys a problem, and they were at work 
 trying to solve it. One of his boys suddenly rose 
 from his seat, walked up to his instructor and hand- 
 ed him a sealed envelope. Not wishing to take the 
 boys' time to read what was in it, he placed it in 
 his desk. But it bothered him. Finally he decided 
 to read it at once, and putting a number of problems 
 on the board asked his pupils to do all of them and 
 took the envelope out again. It read — 
 
 "Dear Mr. Liton: 
 
 I want to ask if I can resign my 
 job as president of Cottage One. It has only gotten 
 me into trouble. Yesterday evening we had a meet- 
 ing. While we were planning lots of things. Michael 
 Roate, our representative, got up and said that he 
 heard that Cottage Father Saunders laughed at our 
 magazine and our republic. He said that Mr. Saun- 
 ders did that before the magazine was published, 
 and that after he saw the magazine he said to a 
 few boys that the boys didn't write their own stuff, 
 but that they stole it from books, and that none of 
 it was theirs. This made him and the boys mad,
 
 A BUiNGH OF LITTLE THIEVES 229 
 
 and they voted it should be told the council, and 
 that the council should tell that to Mr. Krammer. 
 
 "Now, when we first had that meeting I asked 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bloate to come in and even preside 
 over the meeting if they wanted to, but they didn't 
 want to, and Mr. Bloate was a little drunk, too. 
 Please, Mr. Liton, don't let anyone see this letter be- 
 cause they'll kill me for it. Instead of coming in 
 with us to stay at the meeting, he went into the 
 sewing room by the other door and lay down by the 
 door going into the sitting room, where we were, 
 and listened. Michael had just finished, after we 
 voted to tell Mr. Krammer, saying that if Mr. Saun- 
 ders called us liars and thieves that we should call 
 him a liar and thief and drunkard; when Mr. Bloate 
 opened the door and ran in on us, broke up the meet- 
 ing, and hit Michael and some of the other boys, and 
 made us all go down stairs. I wanted to show him 
 the minutes and ask him why he was mad, but 
 he only struck me on the mouth. 
 
 "Then he went to Mr. Krammer, and Mr. Kram- 
 mer called for Michael and gave him a big beating 
 and transferred him to Mr. Saunders' cottage, and 
 now because Michael said that about Mr. Saunders, 
 Mr. Saunders will revenge upon him plenty. 
 
 "Mr. Liton, please, I don't want to be any more 
 president and get lickings for it and reports. I want 
 to keep still after this, take everything, and just wait 
 for the chance to get out of here. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 SAM PHELPS." 
 
 Mr. Liton was beside himself with anger. The 
 boys saw him read the letter and knew why he was 
 so excited. 
 
 At noon he rushed into the office. 
 
 ••Yes. there was considiTable (rouble there last
 
 230 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 night," said Mr. Krammer, when the matter was laid 
 before him. 
 
 "But have you investigated thoroughly, Mr. 
 Krammer?" 
 
 "To my satisfaction." 
 
 "What have you concluded?" 
 
 "That the republic business is not a thing for 
 an institution like this. I have been in this business 
 twenty years, Mr. Liton, twenty years, and I know 
 boys of this sort better than you do. I know what 
 the truth is no matter what a boy may be telling 
 you. They can't manage a republic, and I can't 
 bother with the troubles that follow. I have a new 
 scheme, though. Suppose we start an entirely new 
 affair. Say we have each cottage represented and 
 once a month have a meeting at my house or in the 
 school building, or in my office, and provide re- 
 freshments for the occasion. Every meeting will be 
 a sort of festival, and the boys will be willing to 
 behave themselves a whole month to be able to 
 get into this meeting." 
 
 "That means, of course, that that ends the re- 
 public?" 
 
 "Yes, I think it's better." 
 
 Mr. Liton had nothing more to say, and was 
 about to leave the room when the Superintendent 
 called him back. Mr. Liton was weary from the 
 lack of sleep and the turn in affairs, and evidently 
 was not in fighting spirit, even if he was in the 
 mood. Mr. Krammer having felt the joy of the vic- 
 tory, thought this was his opportunity for putting 
 an end to the whole aggravating business. 
 
 "There was something else I wanted to speak to 
 you about, Mr. Liton, and I might as well do it
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 231 
 
 now. Eh, somebody — was telling me — eh, that you, 
 eh, have made preparations for the printing of the 
 second number of the magazine. You understand, 
 of course, that so far I have sanctioned the print- 
 ing of the first only. I wanted to see the effect it 
 would have on the board and on the boys — an ex- 
 periment, you see. Now I shall present a copy of 
 the first number to the board and if, in their esti- 
 mation, it is worth while, let them provide a fund 
 for the purpose." 
 
 "But, Mr. Krammer, you told me that you would 
 contribute ten dollars a month, and then had the 
 boys vote as to whether they wished to have the 
 monthly good behavior money used to make up the 
 other fifteen dollars. I had no desire to work as I 
 did to get out only one issue. 
 
 "You are mistaken, Mr. Liton. I never offered 
 you ten dollars a month. I can't afford that. I 
 merely thought that that would go to the publica- 
 tion of a single number as an experiment, and if 
 it proved worth while, that we would be able to 
 interest some of the members of the board." 
 
 "Mr. Krammer, are you still doubtful as to wheth- 
 er it is worth while or not?" 
 
 "I am not, but the board probably will be." 
 
 "I have several letters in my room as contribu- 
 tions from the boys, which proves very conclusively 
 that the magazine has had a great influence on them, 
 and that to withhold it this month would mean a 
 loss of faith in it, and — why boys will be mourning 
 for it. I have one letter where a boy tells that he 
 has formed a partnership with another boy for the 
 purpose of writing stories every evening. Both think 
 them up and both spend their time writing what
 
 232 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 they think. You know what a problem it is to keep 
 boys from doing and thinking the wrong things, 
 evenings." 
 
 "Well, that letter is a good one. Keep them all 
 and when I have the board here as visitors I will 
 speak to them about it, and you can then show the 
 letters and help me get them interested." 
 
 An expression of despair spread over Mr. Liton's 
 face, for he began to realize how impossible it was 
 for him to work with that management of the in- 
 stitution, and, as that feeling deepened on his face, 
 the Superintendent seemed to grow more lively and 
 enthusiastic. His scheme was working beyond his 
 expectations. 
 
 Mr. Liton left the office. 
 
 "The best thing we can do," said Miss Britter, 
 when at three that afternoon, they were on their way 
 to Abolt and discussing the matter, "is to resign. 
 They are too strong for us. We can never get them 
 all out, and it is impossible for us to accomplish 
 anything while they are here. This noon, when I 
 saw Miss Brand and Miss Greet in a very happy 
 and secretive conversation with Colonel Reilly and 
 Bloate, I knew that something was up." 
 
 "Certainly," said Nida Cane, who had come along 
 under the protest of her friends, who thought she 
 should have stayed in bed, "Miss Brand will be made 
 principal, and Miss Greet will be made spiritual ad- 
 viser, and it will be just grand. As for me I don't 
 care any more what happens. I want to get out as 
 soon as I can, or I'll go as poor Luddy went." 
 
 They came dov»n to the village station with a 
 feeling within them that the scenery that had be- 
 come a part of their little world was soon to pass
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 233 
 
 away. This, as they looked about the snow-covered 
 trees and shrubbery and fences, was a little world, 
 and they were about to die from it. They looked at 
 everything with emotions of farewell and regret — 
 the station, the grocery store, where they had bought 
 milk and crackers and cocoa so often; the ice cream 
 parlor, with its queer yet familiar tables and chairs 
 and pictures, where they had spent so many pleasant 
 hours; the picturesque roadway that led to Hilldale, 
 with its brilliantly lighted streets and stores, where 
 they had eaten so many dinners, over which they 
 had laughed and talked and argued; and the road- 
 way to the other and higher hill, with its monastery 
 towers and celestial view, which they now called 
 Tower Hill. 
 
 They waited at the station, as they had waited 
 many times before, and as happened each time, but 
 never so significantly, the train on its way to the 
 city drew in, stopped a moment, then pulled out 
 again, taking them with it. 
 
 They went to the house of a friend who had a 
 typewriter, and immediately set to work to draw up 
 a letter to the board. 
 
 They pointed out very clearly and concretely that 
 the morals of the school were corrupt; that indecent 
 men and women were employed, who brutally 
 ruined their boys' chances of reform, who made ob- 
 stacles of themselves whenever an attempt was made 
 to morally uplift them, and who criminally beat and 
 abused them; that men and women were among t lie 
 staff who came home drunk, and were immoral. In- 
 stances of wrongdoing and abuse were given, and 
 affidavits offered to prove them.
 
 234 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "We are convinced," they wrote in conclusion, 
 "that it is impossible for us to go on trying to help 
 them unless some attempt is made to investigate and 
 then to change the conditions that are making our 
 working for the boys impossible. Every attempt 
 either to educate or to train the boys in the right 
 direction has been baffled. We hold that the boys 
 who come to a reform school do so largely because 
 of a lack of appreciation of the law, as agreement 
 between people for the good of all, and that to help 
 them acquire that appreciation they must be given 
 the chance to feel the necessity for law and then to 
 make that law, and finally to respect it. We started 
 a republic that worked beautifully and was carrying 
 us on the road to that great accomplishment. Be- 
 cause a cottage father, who is seldom free from in- 
 toxication, came in and broke up a cottage meeting, 
 the Superintendent, without investigation as to the 
 cause, has destroyed the republic. 
 
 "We started a magazine. The response on the 
 part of the boys was most hopeful. They went wild 
 about it, and it was worth such excitement as you 
 will see by the enclosed copy. By plots which we 
 can make clear to any investigator, that was dis- 
 continued. 
 
 "In view of these facts, and the many more which 
 we can lay before the board when they are desirous 
 of having us do so, you will see that unless the con- 
 ditions are changed to an extent, at least, we are 
 useless here. Please advise us as soon as possible 
 what we may hope for." 
 
 Each one signed the document, and it was regis- 
 tered and posted.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 235 
 
 "I don't care whether they will sympathize with 
 us or not," said Mr. Liton, "they must investigate in 
 the face of such charges." 
 
 The secretary of the board was a friend of the 
 Superintendent. He read the letter and answered it 
 immediately. Mr. Liton's hopes that the facts they 
 presented in that letter would stir the board to some 
 kind of action proved groundless. Hardly a day 
 and a half passed before a reply was received. 
 
 "After careful consideration," said the letter, "we 
 conclude that the facts presented warrant no action 
 on our part.* We are sure that the Superintendent 
 will adjust these matters." 
 
 "I told you that they will do nothing," said Nida. 
 "I know them, every one of them. They are a set 
 of busy men and leave all these matters to a few 
 individuals with whom Krammer has business re- 
 lations, and who have become his personal friends." 
 
 "There is only one thing that we can do now," 
 said Liton. 
 
 "Resign!" 
 
 "Do you agree, Rolan?" 
 
 "I certainly do." 
 
 Mr. Liton brought his typewriter into his class 
 room, and the resignation was written. 
 
 ♦"This statement was made by Mr. after the 
 
 meeting: 'We examined several witnesses and heard all 
 charges. I saw no evidence of irregularity on the part of 
 any official of the institution. There were about five charges 
 in all. We heard the boys and we heard the officials named. 
 
 We also heard Mr. . There was no evidence against 
 
 any of the officials.' Mr. 
 
 would make no effort to reconcile his conflicting 
 
 statements as to the authority of the committee, which, he 
 said was not empowered to hear charges, yet which did hear 
 them according to his own admission." — Philadelphia Times, 
 Feb. 20, 1913.
 
 236 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I am still of the opinion," said Mr. Liton, stop- 
 ping the noisy keys for a moment, "that when they 
 realize that we are very serious, they will do some- 
 thing. Surely they don't want the trouble that would 
 follow our going away. I am going to write this so 
 that they feel that we do not want to leave, that we 
 will be glad to go on working if they only make it 
 possible for us, but that if they have no desire to 
 change the conditions we complain of, or even to 
 investigate our charges," he swung back into posi- 
 tion and went on writing and when he reached the 
 last sentence, cried out, "We ask you to consider this 
 our joint resignation." 
 
 This, too, was signed by the four of them, and 
 they started for the post office to register and post 
 as before. 
 
 They had their dinner again at the restaurant at 
 Hilldale, and returned very late that night; and as 
 they came upon the grounds and stopped a moment 
 to look over the vistas towards the right and left, 
 glorified by the silent night, the moon, the stars, and 
 snow, a feeling of despair came over them. "What 
 if it is accepted?" 
 
 One day of suspension followed — suspension so 
 heavy that it was impossible to work under it. But 
 the day wore away and a letter at the post office 
 broke that suspension with a little sentence of half 
 a dozen unmistakable words: "Your joint resigna- 
 tion is hereby accepted." 
 
 "Surely you will give me a week's time," cried 
 Superintendent Krammer, with the air of one who 
 deserved at least that much courtesy. 
 
 "We will give you a few days, and no more. We 
 are out of place now and the sooner we can go, the 
 better for you."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 TWILIGHT DEEPENS INTO NIGHT 
 
 The sun broke out again over the hill and brought 
 a new and warmer day, and before half of it was 
 spent, much of the snow had melted and passed 
 away in streamlets down its rugged sides. From 
 the cottage roofs the drops fell and dug into the re- 
 maining snow beneath, and when evening came 
 these drops hardened into icicles, as if a few of 
 them had huddled together to sleep through the 
 night; and when the next day the sun rose still 
 warmer, and the snow melted still more, and the 
 streamlets ran faster and fuller, nature had blessed 
 the hill with a beauty that was magnetic; but with 
 all its power it could not tear away the gloom that 
 had fallen upon the place. 
 
 Miss Britter walked into Nida's room to talk to 
 her. 
 
 One boy raised his hand. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "When is Mr. Liton going to take our pictures?" 
 
 "I'm afraid Mr. Liton isn't going to. Mr. Liton, 
 Miss Cane, Mr. Rolan, and I are all going away to- 
 morrow." 
 
 r l'li is was a younger class, and only a very few of 
 the pupils had heard of this before. They sat up 
 for a moment and scrutinized her face. Surely she 
 was only joking, but, when they had looked long 
 enough, they were assured that it was no mere joke, 
 and some began to cry. Miss Britter left the room.
 
 238 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 It was no mere sentimentality to them. They all 
 knew who were their friends, and they knew who 
 their enemies were, and when they realized that all 
 their friends were going and that all their enemies 
 were to remain, was there anything strange about 
 their crying? They not only cried, some wept. 
 "They'll kill us now you're going." 
 
 A group gathered about Miss Cane and some 
 were wild enough to embrace her, and they begged, 
 "Please don't go, please do not leave us, they will 
 kill us now." 
 
 A note was taken into the office : 
 
 "I can not teach the class to-day. Please send 
 some one else in. I am sick. NIDA CANE." 
 
 A cottage father was sent in to take care of the 
 class, while Miss Cane made her way to her room, 
 and fell upon her bed exhausted. 
 
 The day wore on, and in spite of nature's glad- 
 ness, misery increased upon Abolt Hill. Boys cried 
 and determined to get even for the treatment they 
 were receiving, and kicking, beating and slapping 
 filled the corridors and the evening air with crying 
 voices. 
 
 School over, the authors of the joint resignation 
 went to their rooms and began to demolish what 
 once was home. The pictures were taken down, the 
 book shelves emptied, and boxes and trunks taken 
 out of their hiding. 
 
 Mr. Liton worked thus until four o'clock in the 
 afternoon, but his heart became so heavy, he could 
 not continue. 
 
 "We can do the rest tomorrow," he said to him- 
 self. "I'm going to gather them all and go to the 
 village."

 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 239 
 
 They were all anxious to go, so that within a few 
 moments they were following the network of stream- 
 lets down the hill on their way to the restaurant at 
 Hilldale. Such delicate purple and pink in the sky, 
 such blue and brown on the wooded hills and road- 
 ways, they had never seen before. A newspaper, 
 outgrown in usefulness, an obstinate leaf that had 
 resisted the force that carried its fellows off weeks 
 ago, and a broken twig gave way to the windy tug- 
 ging and flew out of the woods, greeted them, and 
 went on in graceful curves into the valley. The 
 snow began to harden, the streamlets gurgling soft- 
 ened down tenderly as the night drew its icy mantle 
 over them, and, by contrast, forced out the lights of 
 the village. 
 
 They ordered a good dinner, ate very little, and 
 tried to cheer each other up. 
 
 They hurried back. The forest cast big shadows 
 and each individual tree its individual shadow upon 
 the snow and the ice covered waters. The houses 
 revealed warm lights from within. Dogs barked, 
 and the moon and stars shone clear and cold. The 
 ground that was exposed was hard and rough. The 
 snow creaked under their feet and under the lonely 
 horse and wagon that passed them. For the last time, 
 for them, Taps rose from the passing hill right into 
 the clear heavens, and wailed pathetically and fer- 
 vently. It was for them, it must have been. The 
 little bugler knew, and he drew his tones out long 
 and with fooling, and they touched the hilltop and 
 sank into the valley like a human sigh. 
 
 Mr. Staver threw his doors open for them, and 
 his welcome was warm. "I feared you wouldn't 
 come to-night."
 
 240 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "How could we leave without a final concert?" 
 
 "That's what I thought, and hoped you would 
 think." 
 
 Mr. Staver lit the mass of paper and kindling 
 under the log, in the fire-place, saying as he did so, 
 "In token of—" 
 
 They answered with a smile. The phonograph 
 was brought in and given its place at the head of the 
 room on the library table. Mrs. Staver came out 
 carefully with her husband's help and seated herself 
 in the bedded rocker near the fire-place. 
 
 Each one took the usual seat and the concert 
 began. As soon as Mr. Staver had placed a record 
 on the machine he would put the lights out, for the 
 flickering light from the burning log seemed more 
 appropriate to the occasion and the music. 
 
 All the violin and vocal solos they had heard so 
 many times, bringing back feelings and recollections 
 of conditions when they had first been heard, were 
 played, some as many as four times over, so that 
 before they were through, the power had been shut 
 off and candles substituted, and the grate filled with 
 ashes had to be replenished. Mr. Staver hurried be- 
 low to get another log. 
 
 "So you're going away?" said Mrs. Staver. 
 
 "Yes, tomorrow." 
 
 "You ought to be glad, children, let me tell you. 
 I wish I had never seen this place. I stood it one 
 year and I got all I wanted. I haven't been well 
 since I have come here. Frank expects a job in the 
 city, and as soon as he gets it we get out, and let 
 me tell you I won't be sad as you are when I go. It 
 will be the happiest moment I have had in the last
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 241 
 
 year. What have you to lose? I have lost my 
 health and I doubt whether I will ever regain it." 
 
 Suddenly a yell of "Who's there?" came from 
 below, and the tone of voice was startling enough 
 to send Mr. Rolan and Mr. Liton to Mr. Staver's as- 
 sistance. 
 
 He had been trying to get a log from under a 
 great many boards and thought he heard some one 
 moving at the extreme end of the dark bin, which 
 was nothing more than a hole made by boxing up 
 an angular excavation, not high enough for a boy 
 to stand upright in, and at that particular end half 
 filled with old boards. 
 
 "Hold this light," he said to Mr. Liton, shaking 
 with excitement. "I think it's a runaway, and he 
 seems half dead. He's been cooped in there for 
 several days." 
 
 Mr. Staver bent down and on hands and feet 
 crawled in a yard or two and called out again, 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 There was no response other than a low moaning. 
 He crawled farther, and after considerable strug- 
 gling, reached in and grabbed an arm. It was al- 
 most impossible to drag the boy out, and Mr. Liton, 
 handing the candle light to Mr. Rolan, had to crawl 
 in and help. The boy was finally pulled out, a 
 miserable specimen of a child. Small as the light 
 was, he couldn't bear it and rubbed his eyes. His 
 clothes were almost torn off him and he stood in his 
 stockings, his shoes hanging to his side by their 
 laces. In one hand he held a little bundle of food 
 wrapped in a newspaper. It contained a piece of 
 bologna and two slices of black bread.
 
 242 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Do you know how long that boy's been in 
 there?" asked Mr. Staver, and receiving no reply 
 answered himself. "Since Saturday, and my boys 
 have been feeding him." 
 
 "What is your name?" cried Mr. Staver, ad- 
 dressing himself to the heap that seemed to stand 
 clinging to the wall, his back bent as if guarding 
 against a blow that might come. The child an- 
 swered in an undertone, plaintively, "Lester 
 Daniels." 
 
 Lester was helped upstairs and asked to sit down 
 on a chair near the fire-place, where he cried and 
 worried, while Mrs. Staver limped back into her 
 room to make a bit of hot cocoa for him. 
 
 "I discovered their plot last Sunday night," said 
 Mr. Staver to the two men, while Miss Britter and 
 Nida straightened the little fellow's clothes on him, 
 and brushed back his hair. "You see, he had 
 planned to run away one night and hide in my bin, 
 and the next night, that was Sunday night, three 
 of my boys were to join him and make their escape. 
 One of my dormitory keys was stolen, and every- 
 thing would have worked well, but I noticed some- 
 thing about them and watched. I espied the key, 
 tied to a string on Max Stem's neck, and asked him 
 for it. I didn't want him licked, so I just took him 
 aside from the rest and gave him a talking to. You 
 see this fellow was waiting for them, and there's 
 no telling how long he would have waited in that 
 hole. He might have died there." 
 
 Lester drank his cocoa and felt better. 
 
 Mr. Staver, as he had to, went to call Colonel 
 Reilly, and Miss Britter refused to wait another
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 243 
 
 moment. Bidding farewell to their hosts, the four 
 of them took the road towards the farm. 
 
 There stood the dilapidated house in the valley, 
 and as they looked at it, its shadowy form in the 
 night cut itself into their thoughts. It was the last 
 time they were to see it. 
 
 "Look," cried Nida, bewildered, "isn't it on fire?" 
 
 Rolan and Liton dashed towards it, and just as 
 they arrived at the gate they saw a tramp rush from 
 its dilapidated front door and escape in the woods. 
 Rolan ran for the farmer, but before they could 
 come back the flames were oozing out of the win- 
 dows, and lighting up the valley. Soon there fol- 
 lowed a crash and first the roof, then one by one the 
 walls fell in and were consumed. 
 
 They had been standing several hours and gazing 
 upon the scene and with them stood a number of 
 farmer boys and men ; then when most of the crowd 
 had left, and they grew tired and sleepy and the 
 flames had crawled to the fallen old tree trunk about 
 which the snow had been melted, and began to con- 
 sume that, they turned and left the smouldering 
 heap and the few that persisted in watching it to its 
 end, and came upon the grounds to Mr. Staver's cot- 
 tage. 
 
 There was no one to be seen. The candle lights 
 had been put out and Lester was gone. 
 
 There was no sign of life anywhere, save the 
 watchman on his rounds, and the night was filled 
 with the smell of burnt wood and smoke. Each re- 
 turned to his or her own room to spend the last 
 night there, and for long after their parting and 
 until the dawn swept away the darkness, four
 
 244 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 candles flickered away into streams of hardening 
 wax. 
 
 There were about twenty boys that Mr. Liton had 
 a message for next morning. These he made it his 
 business to see, then, like the rest, completed his 
 packing. 
 
 "We must not let them see us go." 
 
 "At five o'clock everything had been attended to, 
 and while the boys were having their evening meal 
 the four disappointed comrades took the path down 
 the hill. There was no looking back. On they went 
 until the cottage roofs and power-house smoke- 
 stack were lost behind a rising stretch of woods, 
 and Abolt station was reached. 
 
 The train pulled in. Half an hour later the hill 
 and all their hopes, together with the heap of ashes 
 and the gaping black cellar hole in the valley, passed 
 out of their lives, and twilight deepened into night.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A FLIGHT TO TOWER HILL 
 
 One of the boys, seated at the end of his table in 
 the dining room, looked out of the window and saw 
 the four teachers hurriedly walk down the pathway, 
 and one by one enter the opening in the long line 
 of bare limbed trees and bluish brown shubbery and 
 pass out of sight. On the roadway he saw the far- 
 mer driving the heavy farm wagon, loaded with 
 trunks, towards the gateway — he too disappeared. 
 
 "They're gone now!" cried the boy as softly as 
 his excitement allowed, "and we won't see them any 
 more!" 
 
 The puritanic hungry-looking cottage mother 
 standing near his table, did not have her old shoe 
 with her, but making use of the palm of her hand, 
 which was as dry and lifeless, punished the boy for 
 his offense, and then in disgust, wiped her hand 
 with her towel as if the hand had been the victim 
 of cruelty. 
 
 The boys took up the information, however, and 
 soon it reached the next table and before long the 
 news had spread about the dining room. Colonel 
 Reilly lifted up his massive figure in defiance, and 
 paraded it up and down the long cement floor. The 
 dignified Superintendent, perhaps for the first time 
 in his twenty years of experience, joined him, and 
 paraded and watched with him for a while; then 
 walked out. 
 
 The atmosphere in the room had not been very 
 conducive to appetite so that only those whose
 
 246 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 hunger was greater than their fear ate at all. Tears 
 streamed down the faces of some of them, while 
 the eyes of all kept shooting nervously from side 
 to side as Authority made its way from one end of 
 the long room to the other. 
 
 The little bell rang. Supper was over and every 
 boy jumped to his feet. Colonel Reilly folded his 
 arms and looked sharply around, his head slightly 
 lowered and his eyes straining upwards. They 
 stood perfectly quiet with caps on shoulders waiting 
 for him. Michael's tired right arm holding his cap 
 on his left shoulder fell for an instant and was 
 lifted up again. The Colonel walked slowly towards 
 him his eyes fixed on the other end of the room, and, 
 while Michael stood staring at the floor, a big hand 
 shot at him and struck him upon the mouth. Michael 
 reeled and his eyes filled with tears. Two drops of 
 blood oozed from his lower lip. An expression of 
 anger flashed upon his face and disappeared, and 
 a bitter cry was subdued and swallowed. Michael 
 was being reformed and non-resistance was becom- 
 ing a policy with him. 
 
 He swallowed his anger, wiped the blood from 
 his lip, held back the tears in his eyes, and stood 
 quietly where he was supposed to stand. 
 
 Colonel Reilly laughed in his heart, when he saw 
 the effect his method of discipline now had upon 
 Michael. "With them creatures out of the way, 
 they'll obey all right." His face flushed with pride, 
 his voice grew even more authoritative, and he 
 swung himself about with the grace and power of 
 a god. 
 
 A great change was wrought upon the grounds 
 of Abolt School. Obedience became a popular
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 247 
 
 virtue, and the minority received as they bought. 
 Slap, bang, kick, and yell, day after day and minute 
 after minute, for big offences, little offences, and for 
 no offence at all. One fellow had his coat ripped 
 off of him, another had his ear lobe torn, a third 
 had his teeth broken, and a fourth his eye blacked. 
 
 Many of the members of the staff were hilarious 
 over what they considered their victory, and the sen- 
 tence, "Good riddin's of bad rubbish," was heard 
 from one end of the hill to the other. 
 
 A new principal and several new teachers came 
 a week later. The principal, a Mr. Frederick Ope, 
 was a College Graduate, a civil engineer who after 
 a number of failures realized that he had taken the 
 wrong vocational track, and finding nothing else 
 to do tried his hand at teaching. He was a slave of 
 whiskey, tobacco, and every one who desired to 
 make himself his master, and took up the reins of 
 office with the well-grounded feeling that he need 
 not concern himself as to where he was going to 
 drive. Colonel Reilly had a hand upon those reins, 
 and whatever of the straps was left hanging down, 
 the leer-eyed principal accepted with the grace of 
 an experienced driver, and had real sensations of 
 driving. 
 
 Upon his arrival, the Superintendent informed 
 him that Colonel Reilly had charge of the school 
 discipline, and that he, the principal, was to make 
 himself useful to the teachers only as far as subject 
 matter was concerned; adding, "Any information 
 you may want regarding the work we have been 
 doing, you can get from Miss Brand, who has been 
 here a very long time and who is a very capable 
 teacher."
 
 248 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Mr. Ope accepted the advice as gratefully as he 
 abided by the order, and never ceased informing 
 himself as to what had been done at the Abolt 
 School, and his informer in an equally happy state 
 of mind accepted her appointment. 
 
 The hallways rang once more with the military 
 commands and the voices of friends seemed hushed 
 forever. "Hip, hip, hip," took the place of en- 
 couraging appeals, and echoing from wall to wall, 
 those fear-inspiring sounds made a kind of sordid 
 duet with the sickening thud of the many weary- 
 feet upon the hard cement floor where they moved an 
 inch at a time. 
 
 Many weeks passed by, and each boy, in a degree 
 of his own, adapted himself to the new condi- 
 tions, forgetting all that his little soul had heard in 
 better times. Some boys were paroled and many 
 new ones came. The old spirit smouldered and died 
 and a new spirit was born. 
 
 Day after day, sometimes four and five times a 
 day, Colonel Reilly called upon the principal and 
 asked him whether he had any names of boys who 
 were in need of disciplining; and day after day the 
 leer-eyed, obliging principal gathered the names 
 and gave them in. 
 
 "You see," the Colonel said to him one day, 
 "they came here and tried to tell me how to run a 
 reform school, and they got left." 
 
 "What they deserved," grinned the principal. 
 
 "They didn't know these boys at all. They didn't 
 see the stealing of apples and what not, that I saw; 
 and wanted to treat them as if they were angels. 
 But they are no angels in my eyes. They're a bunch 
 of little thieves, and should be treated as such. You
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 249 
 
 can't treat a pickpocket and a thief as you would a 
 good child, can you?" 
 
 "Of course not. Sheer ridiculousness." 
 
 "But they didn't want to know this. What was 
 the result?" 
 
 "I can imagine." 
 
 "Back talk! Disobedience! Impudence! It was 
 terrible. Look at the discipline I have now — quite 
 a difference, eh? In a short while, you will see a 
 still greater difference. I haven't had a chance yet 
 to round all of them up." 
 
 "Oh, sure not. I have a few in Miss Brand's 
 class and a few in the High School class that need 
 some rounding up." 
 
 "High School class!" said the Colonel, "Believe 
 me, they don't want no High School class in this 
 school." 
 
 "You're right there," answered the leer-eyed 
 principal, taking his right hand out of his right- 
 hand pocket and putting his left hand into his left- 
 hand pocket and correspondingly changing his feet 
 on the chair before him. "I am certain that it will 
 be better, as you say, to do away with that High 
 School class. They're not fit for it at all." 
 
 Colonel Beilly left the principal in his office, a 
 cold-looking place now, without pictures on the 
 walls and with the floor littered with wrapping 
 paper. 
 
 Half an hour later, he issued from the Superin- 
 tendent's office and made for the High School class 
 room. A young man, who might have been taken 
 for a brother to the principal, opened the door and 
 admitted the Colonel in time to see a few of the 
 slower boys clatter to their seats. The High School
 
 250 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 teacher's face turned very red, and his class became 
 as busy as they could make themselves appear in 
 so short a time. 
 
 The Colonel looked at them ferociously for a few 
 moments, then called out slowly, "Tifton, come 
 with me." 
 
 Louis Tifton came forward no little worried as 
 to what he might be wanted for. 
 
 "Gome along with me," repeated the Colonel and 
 closed the door behind him. 
 
 Louis followed him closely, wondering a great 
 deal, but asking no questions. The Colonel inserted 
 a key into the key-hole of the door of the photo- 
 graphic dark room, threw it wide open, and they 
 entered. With his two big hands he tore off, first 
 one and then the other of the two wooden blinds 
 that the boys had hinged to the windows to keep the 
 light out, and Louis carried them below to the power 
 house where he threw them upon a pile of kindling 
 wood. When he returned the Colonel told him to 
 take the large camera and that part of the materials 
 that belonged to it to Mr. Krammer's home, and the 
 small cameras and the rest of the materials to his 
 office, and soon there was nothing left in the room. 
 The names scratched upon the walls and the floor 
 seemed to come out again. 
 
 "Wait here for me," said the Colonel, and went 
 below. 
 
 Louis walked up to one of the small windows 
 and looked out upon the eastern hill and thought, 
 till he heard some one coming upstairs. He turned 
 and saw the Colonel enter with a stick in his hand, 
 and he almost fainted in fright.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 251 
 
 "This room," began the Colonel, "is going to be 
 the disciplining room. You're to watch it, and this 
 stick is for your use. See that you make them mind. 
 I'm going and when I come up again, I will have 
 a few boys with me. They are to get on their knees 
 and you are to see that they stay on their knees, do 
 you understand?"* 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The Colonel walked down once more and soon 
 returned with Sam Phelps, Dick Kennen, and Manuel 
 Rogirs behind him. 
 
 All three were ordered to get on their knees 
 against the wall, and told to remain that way on 
 pain of very severe punishment. 
 
 "You snitched on us, didn't you?" demanded 
 Manuel when the Colonel's steps were heard to have 
 reached the ground floor below. 
 
 "I did not," returned Louis, indignantly, "I 
 never said a word to him and he didn't ask me." 
 
 "Say," whispered Manuel, "shut the door." 
 
 "Naw, it's better open. We can hear if any- 
 body's coming." 
 
 "Say fellows, let's us four beat it." 
 
 There was silence for a few moments, and all 
 thought it over, then Louis objected. 
 
 "What's the use of my going now, I'll be paroled 
 very soon anyway. If I run away and they catch 
 me, I'll only have to serve all my time over again." 
 
 *"A whipping room, in which long rattan sticks are 
 soaked in a tub of vinegar before being laid across the backs 
 of the young inmates who are due for a whipping is one of 
 
 the particular cruel features of , according 
 
 to , Jr., now a cripple who was released 
 
 from the institution yesterday." — Philadelphia Times, Feb. 20, 
 1913.
 
 252 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Don't you fool yourself," put in Dick, who for 
 his short time at the institution, half of which had 
 been spent in the hospital, was remarkably well ac- 
 quainted with its methods. "Even if your time is 
 up, they never let you go." 
 
 "Well, I'll see when my father comes — if they 
 don't let me go, I'll beat it with you." 
 
 "You don't learn nothing, get beat — " Sam Phelps 
 couldn't finish his sentence. He was mercilessly in- 
 terrupted by a subdued burst of laughter at his 
 naivety, but would not give way. "Sure," he 
 sneered, "Didn't yous yourself grunt about how 
 much yous were learning when Mr. Liton was here?" 
 
 "That's true," Manuel began again, in the hopes 
 that he might thus avoid a break in the conspiracy, 
 "I want to tell you my scheme. We four fellows 
 can land safely in New York. I got the dough. We 
 can catch the midnight train at Hilldale. I know 
 where it is, I've been there bushels of times. In 
 New York we can make piles of money and when 
 we have enough skip to Canada and be free." 
 
 "That's a good scheme, all right," said Dick, 
 "I'm game." 
 
 They heard a step on the stairway and hastily 
 got into the required position. It was the Superin- 
 tendent, himself, coming. 
 
 He stood for a moment or two at the threshold, 
 staring at the culprits who assumed extremely meek 
 expressions, and admiring Louis, who seemed a 
 lion in power and unflinchingly severe. 
 
 "You keep your hands behind you there," 
 thundered Mr. Krammer, pointing at Dick who had 
 forgotten about that part of his punishment, then
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 253 
 
 turned to Louis and said very softly, "Gome out here 
 a minute." 
 
 "I was in the city yesterday," he began, "and I 
 went to see your father, and you will be glad to hear, 
 that I have made some excellent arrangements for 
 you, Louis." 
 
 Louis' face grew red. 
 
 "I told your father and mother that, because you 
 were a very good boy, I am going to give you a job. 
 You are a pretty big boy, and as you know your 
 parents need your help. You have had quite a little 
 schooling here, but if you should desire more we can 
 arrange for that too. At any rate, the Colonel and I 
 have agreed that you are the boy for this job. We 
 are going to make this a disciplinary room, where 
 the boys who can't behave themselves — " Here he 
 perceived that one of the boys inside was out of 
 position and quickly dashed in to correct him. 
 
 "I was saying, those boys who can't behave 
 themselves in their class rooms will -spend their 
 time on their knees, up here. I have made arrange- 
 ments with your father. I will send him a sum of 
 money every month, and let you have a little for 
 yourself, too, and you will be working for the in- 
 stitution. You will not be considered as one of the 
 boys any more, and will have plenty of freedom. 
 You will get a cadet's room all to yourself and will 
 be able to take a day off every other week and go 
 home to your people. You know, of course, that 
 when a boy is paroled from this school, he is still 
 under our care and can be brought back at any time. 
 You can work yourself up here, and become a cot- 
 tage father or a teacher, if you want to."
 
 254 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Louis' eyes filled with tears. For the last few 
 months he had been counting the days that were 
 between him and his long desired return to home 
 and freedom, and now, because of a compact of 
 which he had known nothing, and to which he 
 would never have consented, he was again, and this 
 time hopelessly, a slave. 
 
 The Superintendent, on the other hand, was cer- 
 tain that the boy was shedding tears of gratitude, 
 for, in his way of thinking, what could a fallen boy 
 desire more than a good steady job. Had he not 
 tried to make them feel that it is better to be honest 
 than to have a great deal of money and enjoy life? 
 Didn't he impress upon their minds that there is 
 nothing in life more worth while than service, by 
 reading so many times, Elbert Hubbard's "A Message 
 to the Employee?" Had he not, by this time, incul- 
 cated into each of them the desire to emulate the 
 peaceful, contented man, who serves his employer 
 and his country, obeys all law and respects order, 
 and eats his honest piece of bread, poor and tasteless 
 though it be? 
 
 Relieving himself of very warm congratulations, 
 the Superintendent left the coop, and made his way 
 down the three flights of stairs. 
 
 "My father had no right to do it," cried Louis 
 when at his post again, after he had recited every 
 word of the conversation, "I'm game, now, all right, 
 but let us get away to Canada even quicker than 
 you say. I won't go home either. If they catch 
 us they'll make me stay two years more or even 
 three and then I'll be free. If I stay at this job I 
 never will be free again."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 255 
 
 For several days Louis was at his post, always 
 friendly to his victims when alone with them and 
 always very severe when an officer was present. 
 One morning Michael Roate was brought into the 
 coop and forced down upon his knees with the 
 promise that if a whole day of that didn't knock all 
 the stubbornness out of him, the stick would be 
 applied again; and when Michael got down upon his 
 knees he began to think the matter over. 
 
 '"Is it true," he asked some time later, "that Mr. 
 Liton made a school of his own out of the monastery 
 on the hill?" 
 
 "Sure it's true," answered Louis. 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "Don't you believe me?" 
 
 "I do believe you, but I want to know how you 
 know." 
 
 "I know, you take it from me." 
 
 Michael was going to ask whether Louis knew 
 how to get there, but he thought it better not to. 
 That night another ghost slid down a cottage wall, 
 and disappeared in the woods, with only the greater 
 part of his plan working, for he had heard the grind 
 of the watchman's shoes upon the gravel, before he 
 could locate and don all the clothes that he had 
 successfully hidden. He found himself without 
 shoes and without his cap, dashing somewhere 
 through the icy woods. 
 
 It was a still night in the early part of spring. 
 The ground was hard and covered here and there 
 with small patches of snow. The brooks were 
 all frozen. He ran hopping through the woods till 
 he was far enough from the school grounds, then 
 turned and took a western direction, going down
 
 256 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 the side of Abolt Hill into the valley towards Abolt 
 village. His knees were stiff, the soles of his feet 
 received dig after dig, and his hands were all 
 scratched up, but never did he think of either or 
 slacken his pace, save when suddenly he heard the 
 barking of a dog too near, or the stirring of some- 
 thing before or behind him. Once, just as he ap- 
 proached a path, he heard some one, apparently 
 drunk, talking to himself, and struggling up the 
 hill. But the man soon passed him, and when his 
 heart grew quiet enough for him to catch a deep 
 breath, he went on again. 
 
 In that way he came near the village, and took 
 a roundabout way to avoid running across a vil- 
 lager who might be aware of the five dollars in store 
 for any one who caught an Abolt School runaway; 
 but as soon as he lost the village, he became uncer- 
 tain of his way and stopped to think and cry. 
 
 Finally, thinking he distinguished the hill he 
 wanted from those about it, he dashed into the strip 
 of woodland that lay before him, and came upon a 
 frozen brook. There were no bridges about, and 
 being unable to do anything else, he attempted to 
 cross it. He was within a few feet of the other end, 
 and just as he lifted a blood-stained, stockinged 
 foot to step upon a rotten log, he saw a figure like 
 that of the Colonel. There, a few rods before him 
 among a cluster of dark green trees, stood the Colonel 
 in his deep blue uniform and white gloves. The boy 
 fell upon his face in fright. 
 
 It was some time before he could look up again, 
 and when he did, his heart fairly jumping out of 
 him, and his limbs shaking violently, he saw the 
 Colonel standing motionless, in the same position.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 257 
 
 He looked sharply. Was it possible? The figure 
 seemed too quiet to be real, but he was afraid of it 
 and slowly crawled away, watching it as he went, 
 until he was out of its reach; then he started upon 
 a run for his life. 
 
 Luckily the apparition, being made of wood and 
 two small patches of snow, could not run after him, 
 though he did think he heard it behind him more 
 than once in his horrible flight. 
 
 Over and over, again and again, he ran his toes 
 against a stone, the stump of a tree, or a bit of ice, 
 stumbling, rising, running or limping on; and, final- 
 ly, admonishing himself with bitter tears for having 
 made such a foolish, hopeless attempt and for not 
 having remained and served his time. His mind was 
 being wrecked by the fear of discovery, the terror 
 of meeting a man, a policeman, or a mean dog, the 
 possibility of Mr. LitonV being unable to save him, 
 or his own inability to find Mr. Liton's school. At 
 last he came upon a path which he felt sure must 
 lead to the top of the western hill, and sending all 
 his cares to oblivion, he madly struggled upwards. 
 
 But the pathway seemed endless. Up a little 
 knob and down its other side! One time he came 
 to a point where his way branched off into two 
 paths and one seemed as good as the other. He 
 took one of them and ran along, only to find him- 
 self going downwards. He cried bitterly and re- 
 traced his steps till he came to the fork again, and 
 there took the other path. 
 
 It was half past two in the morning, three hours 
 after he had slidden down the rope from his cottage 
 window, when he came out of the woods into an 
 opening on the hilltop and saw before him the dark
 
 258 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 old monastery with its two towers peacefully sleep- 
 ing in the dead of the quiet starlit night. 
 
 He picked up another path that led him to a two- 
 story shed-like building and into a sort of garden 
 or court yard. Here a pebbled walk led to a small 
 open veranda. He mounted the few steps leading to 
 it, very cautiously, dreading the awakening of some 
 dog or watchman, and nervously knocked on the 
 solid old door. 
 
 This seemed to be the worst part of the whole 
 undertaking, and he shook and shivered, and cursed 
 the whole world. 
 
 The sound he made with his knuckles echoed on 
 the hilltop and against the two-story shed, slightly 
 disturbed the night and sank into a dead terrifying 
 silence again. No answer. 
 
 He cried more bitterly and shook and shivered 
 more, then rapped again, and again the night took 
 up the sound. 
 
 Suddenly a window opened on the second floor 
 a girl's head with hair streaming down loosely, 
 popped out and a voice softly demanded an explana- 
 tion. 
 
 "Is this Mr. Liton's school?" he asked her, sob- 
 bing, and she answered affirmatively. 
 
 "Please tell Mr. Liton to come down right away; 
 I want to see him." 
 
 "All right, I'll call him right away," she replied, 
 and her voice was the sweetest sound that his bat- 
 tling little soul had ever heard in all its struggling 
 existence. 
 
 The big door flew open and the light streamed 
 out upon a wild-looking youngster in rags. His 
 hair was uncombed and in knots, his eyes stared in
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 259 
 
 terror, fairly bulging out of his head, his hands were 
 covered with blood, his stockings were ripped into 
 shreds, and his feet were black and blue and swollen. 
 
 "Please take me in, Mr. Liton," he cried, "I am 
 Michael from Abolt School. I ran away. I will 
 work for you all my life, if you help me now." 
 
 "Marguerite," said Mr. Liton softly, "run up 
 into the tower like a good girl and fix up the cot. 
 Get some hot water ready." 
 
 Marguerite rushed up the stairs as fast as she 
 could go, while Mr. Liton took the protesting runa- 
 way in his arms and carried him. 
 
 "I can walk, Mr. Liton, please don't carry me." 
 
 "Oh, no! You musn't walk on those feet. I can 
 carry you." 
 
 "Will you keep me here, Mr. Liton? Please don't 
 let them take me back. I'll kill myself if they take 
 me back." 
 
 "No, I won't let them take you back. You are 
 going to stay right here with us, Michael. You will 
 be one of my boys and work with the rest of us. 
 I am very glad you came to me." 
 
 "I will work for you all my life," insisted Mich- 
 ael, and his tears fell faster than ever. 
 
 They reached the bathroom on the second floor, 
 and Michael was seated on a chair where he could 
 keep his feet from touching the floor. Marguerite 
 brought everything that Mr. Liton had called for; 
 then she went up into the tower room and sat there 
 waiting for them, until Mr. Liton came up with 
 the renovated Michael, who was placed upon the 
 clean blankets of the cot. His hands and feet were 
 bandaged and when everything that could be done 
 for him had been done, and Mr. Liton and Mar-
 
 260 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 guerite were about to return to their beds, Michael 
 begged them not to leave him alone. 
 
 "I know," he cried, "they're after me." 
 
 "You foolish boy," said Mr. Liton, "the doors 
 are all locked. No one can come in here. But I 
 will stay with you. Marguerite, you might as well 
 go to bed." 
 
 "I'd rather stay up with you," said Marguerite, 
 "I couldn't sleep any more, anyway." 
 
 Mr. Liton brought in two rockers and he and 
 Marguerite sat down near the cot and read. Michael 
 lay for a few moments staring around the wonder- 
 ful room in which he found himself. Two of the 
 walls were all window and one was all door. 
 Strange pictures hung upon the fourth wall and a 
 stranger instrument stood in a corner. 
 
 Michael continued staring until his eyelids grew 
 heavy, then, forgetting the world with all the horror 
 he had experienced in it, he fell asleep to dream of 
 fairyland, for the first time in all his life. 
 
 END OP BOOK ONE
 
 Kind thoughts, and mighty hopes, and gentle deeds 
 Abound, for fearless love, and the pure law 
 Of mild equality and peace, succeeds 
 To faiths which long have held the world in awe, 
 Bloody and false and cold. 
 
 —PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
 
 BOOK TWO 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A VISION 
 
 The twelve o'clock train from Chicago and the 
 West pulled into the smoky station of the metropo- 
 lis on a hot July day, and but slightly stirred the 
 multitudinous inhabitants of the great ant-hill. Of 
 the individuals that had been gliding about, since 
 eternity began it seemed, some quickened their 
 paces and gathered about the sombre corridor with 
 its iron gate-way, fanning, blowing, bustling, and 
 waiting. The awe-inspiring locomotive, with its 
 mysteriously built cab and its especially long train 
 of cars, dusty, squeaky, and dark, pulled up to the 
 very end of the track without revealing a single 
 individual of the many it had brought. Of a sudden, 
 the doors of each car were opened, and a shower of 
 men, women and children followed. One after an- 
 other, and often a dozen at a time, poured out for 
 many minutes without exhausting the stream. 
 Many of them rushed eagerly because of those who 
 were anxiously waiting for them, and others be- 
 cause they feared the night in a great city and 
 wished to have time enough to make the necessary 
 arrangements by daylight; but some took their 
 time. None waiting for them, apparently familiar 
 with the city they had just come to, they waited 
 until the largest part of the crowd was ahead of 
 them, then followed into the waiting room.
 
 264 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Among those who took their time, walked a 
 young woman of about thirty-five. She wore a 
 white waist and a neat gray skirt, and carried a 
 suit-case and a rain-coat. Beneath a very simple 
 straw hat was revealed the face of a strong personal- 
 ity, and as little as was possible of her already gray 
 hair. She bore the expression of one who had suf- 
 fered intensely, and had come out of each ordeal 
 more able to bear than before; but traces of these 
 ordeals were visibly playing about her still fair and 
 resolute features. 
 
 She walked to the parcels desk and left her suit- 
 case, then turned and swung into the stream that 
 poured out of the exits. 
 
 "Think of it! Three years since I last saw this!" 
 she muttered to herself with a sigh, as she came 
 upon a corner that she had seen an infinite num- 
 ber of times before those three years began their 
 distant course, — then walked on with the city's un- 
 wearied. 
 
 On trolley cars and off she went from street to 
 street, from friend and acquaintance to friend and 
 acquaintance, till the desired information was giv- 
 en; then returned to the same station and boarded 
 a local train. One hour of travel over scenes pain- 
 fully familiar, and she came to a country station 
 and alighted. 
 
 There were the velvet green lawns and flowers 
 and white-washed stones, the villagers' cottages, the 
 hotel, the post office and grocery store. Towards 
 the left she could see ascending woods and beyond 
 that she could see in her memory a miniature pla- 
 teau with rows of cottages and pebbled walks, and
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 265 
 
 towards the right a hill was in sight, and on its 
 summit two living towers. 
 
 A charming country road, shaded by drooping 
 willow trees, curving, rising and falling with de- 
 lightful grace, led to that hill with its fascinating 
 towers. This road she took. 
 
 About three-quarters of a mile outside of the 
 village a pathway wound down the hillside to the 
 road. This path she recognized by the richly laden 
 apple tree which stood a few feet up the side of the 
 hill and sent its gnarled roots to sew together the 
 broken greenish brown. She knew that some dis- 
 tance up was a very shady spot, and hastened toward 
 it; for the day was very hot and her limbs had been 
 cramped so long. She sat there for a few minutes, 
 looked for the initials and the names that had been 
 carved on different tree-trunks; then the desire to 
 get to her destination forced her to hurry on till 
 she saw a little ahead of her what once was a monas- 
 tery. 
 
 She came upon a garden. A long and wide 
 stretch of potatoes on one side and on the other 
 perfect rows of perfect cabbages, and beyond that 
 corn. A number of boys were busy hoeing among 
 the high stalks, and did not notice her. She ap- 
 proached the building with the towers. A beauti- 
 ful lawn with flower beds surrounded it, and its 
 walls, save where there were windows, were covered 
 with vines. The towers alone showed its clean 
 shingly covered sides. 
 
 The large porch that she remembered gloomy and 
 weed o'er-grown, was well shaded and neatly paint- 
 ed, and the three hammocks and many rockers on 
 its floor were most solicitous. She walked up the
 
 266 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 few steps leading to it very cautiously, and looked 
 about for the door bell. The doors were wide open, 
 and the few times she rang the bell her ringing was 
 unanswered. At the opposite end of the spacious 
 hallway was another door, and it, too, was wide 
 open. She entered the hallway, thinking that some 
 one might be found in the court yard. The hallway 
 was very beautifully ornamented with photographs 
 in sepia, of the scenery about the hill, framed in 
 home-made mission picture frames, with a num- 
 ber of wooden hatracks, with several very neat lit- 
 tle hall tables, under light bulbs, and with light 
 green clay jardinieres, holding wide-leafed plants, 
 some of which rose high enough to reach the mould- 
 ing. A large desk and three very long leather-cush- 
 ioned seats made up the furniture of this large cor- 
 ridor, and were neatly arranged about the several 
 open doors and the stairway. She slowly walked 
 the entire length of the hall floor and came to a 
 point where she could look over the entire court 
 yard. It consisted, first, of a cement floor connect- 
 ed with the back porch and a number of wooden 
 steps, and beyond that a rather wide lawn, with 
 pebbled walks, flower beds, and a number of large 
 trees, between several pairs of which hung red and 
 tan hammocks. One of these was occupied by a 
 stout lady, enjoying her afternoon nap. 
 
 The pathway in the center wound about a two- 
 story shop and out again upon a large athletic field, 
 one corner of which had been turned into a tennis 
 court, where half a dozen girls were playing tennis. 
 
 She watched them for a few minutes, then 
 turned and retraced her steps, expecting to take a 
 seat on the front porch and to wait until some one
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 267 
 
 could be found to speak to; but on her way back 
 she found the sleeping lady awakened and rubbing 
 the half sleepy eyes of her good-natured face. 
 
 "This is Mr. Liton's school, is it not?" 
 
 "Yes. You wish to see Mr. Liton?" 
 
 "Yes, I would like to." 
 
 "Can you wait a few minutes? I expect them 
 home any minute now. They come in about this 
 time every day for a swim." 
 
 "I have plenty of time. I can wait." 
 
 "Will you have a rocker or that hammock?" 
 asked the lady of the house very politely. "I think 
 the hammock is much more comfortable, and you 
 look tired. Take off your hat and make yourself at 
 home. It has been very hot, hasn't it?" 
 
 She sat down upon the hammock as one would 
 upon a chair, and continued looking at and admir- 
 ing this motherly woman, whoever she may have 
 been. 
 
 "There they come now," said the lady, rising. 
 "I didn't think they were coming so soon. It's time 
 to ring the bell." 
 
 She walked up on the little porch and pulled a 
 rope that hung alongside of the wall, nearly hidden 
 by the vines that crept over it. A great bell sounded 
 once, twice, three times over the hill. Immediately 
 the tennis players, in girl fashion, armed and in 
 groups, left their court and made for the house. 
 From the cornfield came three of the boys, while 
 Mr. Liton and a crowd of other boys came from 
 another field. All of them rushed up the stair- 
 ways to their different rooms and substituted bath- 
 ing-suits for the clothes they had been wearing. 
 Even Mother Atkins and her husband, the most good-
 
 268 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 natured couple that ever breathed, went to their 
 rooms to put their suits on. Mr. Roland, too, went 
 for his room, while Mr. Liton, who was informed of 
 a visitor, went into the court yard with his overalls 
 on and his shirt sleeves rolled up. 
 
 "How do you do?" he said politely, but when 
 the young woman turned to greet him, a smile 
 spread all over his face, both his hands stretched 
 out to grasp hers, and shaking his head, he went 
 on: "Well, well, well! Is this a hallucination, or 
 are you really before me?" 
 
 "As far as I'm aware," she answered softly, turn- 
 ing her head slightly, "I think I am quite real. There 
 are times when I am uncertain." 
 
 "Rolan, Rolan, hurry down here." 
 
 Several boys peeped out of their respective win- 
 dows. Then Rolan's face was seen. 
 
 "Hello, the idea!" he cried, pulled his head in, 
 replaced his clothes, and was soon running down 
 the stairway. 
 
 He shook her hand long and fervently. "How 
 are you? How are you, and how is Miss Cane?" 
 
 "'Miss Cane is all right, now, for all time, 1 
 guess." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Poor Nida died just about a year ago." 
 
 "And you people never wrote to us," said Liton, 
 with a sorrowful expression on his face. 
 
 "Really, do not blame me. I shall explain in 
 every detail — everything that happened, and you 
 will then understand." 
 
 "Died of consumption, did she?" Rolan asked, 
 almost sobbing. 
 
 "Yes."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 269 
 
 "Poor, poor girl," cried Liton, "she was a martyr, 
 if ever there was one." 
 
 "Oh, how she suffered! I feel it less terribly 
 now, but oh, it is such a horrible death," went on 
 Miss Britter with a far away look in her eyes. "She 
 spoke to me until nearly the end, but during her 
 last few days she was a little confused. She never 
 stopped talking of Abolt and the boys, and the last 
 minute she must have been thinking of little Lud- 
 wig — she mentioned his name several times. It 
 was terrible, let's try to forget it." 
 
 They were quiet for a few minutes, then Mr. 
 Liton spoke, "We have several of the boys that you 
 know, here." 
 
 "Who are they? How did you come to get 
 them?" 
 
 "I got on the right side of one of the judges of 
 the Children's Court by inviting him out here and 
 giving him a good time. Of course when he saw 
 the place he said he wished he could send all the 
 children here that come before him, and now when- 
 ever I want any particular boy, I just speak to him 
 about it. You know Michael Roate, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes, sure." 
 
 "Well, Michael ran away from Abolt about a 
 year after we left, and Judge Willis refused to let 
 Krammer take him back. Oh, we had quite a time. 
 Krammer, Reilly, an awful-looking new principal, 
 and Miss Brand came to court to testify. I had 
 Michael with me, and together we told the court a 
 few things, and Krammer left like a whipped dog." 
 
 "I can imagine how he looked. Did he turn 
 pale?"
 
 270 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Pale," cried Rolan, "you couldn't tell where his 
 collar ended." 
 
 "He was so mad," went on Liton, "he almost 
 fainted; and I heard from no gossipers either, that 
 he promised to get good and even with me. So far, 
 however, the only deal between him and me, was 
 when I took Ernest and Jack away from him." 
 
 "Are they here, too?" 
 
 The bathers began to pour down into the court 
 yard. Twenty well-developed, good-looking boys, 
 with their sunburnt arms and shoulders exposed, 
 Mother and Mr. Atkins, and seven girls. Some were 
 well-developed and beautiful as only girlhood and 
 boyhood can be, but a few of the newcomers were 
 still faintly marked with the stigma of the street. 
 
 They all started on a run for the swimming pool, 
 while the three Abolt boys, who recognized Miss 
 Britter, came up to greet her. 
 
 "What big boys you have grown to be," said 
 Miss Britter, "you are almost men now." 
 
 The boys fairly jumped about her with delight, 
 they were so glad to see her. They talked of Abolt 
 School, telling unrestrainedly what they thought 
 about the different officers there, and describing in 
 detail, their different escapes. 
 
 "Are you going to stay here?" asked Michael, 
 feeling that it was wrong for them to keep talking 
 to Miss Britter so long, when Mr. Rolan and Mr. 
 Liton hadn't seen her for so many years. 
 
 Mr. Liton answered for her, "Yes, Miss Britter is 
 going to stay and work with us." 
 
 Miss Britter smiled. 
 
 "Well, then we will be able to see more of you,"
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 271 
 
 said Michael again, and started off for the swim- 
 ming pool. 
 
 "Is Miss Cane coming, too?" asked Jack, stop- 
 ping for a minute. 
 
 "Miss Cane can never come here, Jack. She died 
 last year." 
 
 Jack said nothing, hut his eyes were quickly 
 moistened, and with the other two young men, he 
 walked away, very slowly. Miss Cane had been his 
 favorite teacher and his childish ideal of a woman, 
 and among the many things he hoped to do when 
 he grew up to be a man was to be a real friend of 
 Miss Cane, not a boy friend; and he, on the other 
 hand, had been her favorite. Didn't she buy him a 
 beautiful pair of fur gloves, and didn't she buy him 
 a sled? The sled and the gloves had long been de- 
 stroyed, but the feeling that had accompanied those 
 lifeless things was destined to live as long as Jack's 
 heart beat and to grow in intensity as the meaning 
 of life became clearer to him. 
 
 "I want to ask so many things," began Miss Brit- 
 ter, after they had had something to say about Jack 
 and his relations to Miss Cane. 
 
 "You knew, of course, that we started this school, 
 didn't you?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," Miss Britter replied, trying hard to 
 resist her desire to sleep, "I received the letter you 
 sent me just after you had your plans laid out." 
 
 "Really," began Rolan, "you look as though you 
 need a bed much more than you do this informa- 
 tion." 
 
 "I am terribly sleepy. I don't think I have had 
 a night's sleep this week."
 
 272 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Well, you go right up, take a warm bath and 
 go to bed. Are you hungry?" 
 
 "Couldn't eat a thing if I tried." 
 
 "I'm sorry I didn't ask Marguerite to stay and 
 help you." 
 
 "Oh, no. I'm glad you didn't, Just show me 
 where things are; I'll help myself." 
 
 "She wouldn't mind. She's a lovely girl. She'd 
 be glad to help you." 
 
 "Oh, I think this is the dearest place I have ever 
 been in. I wish I weren't so sleepy. You must give 
 me a job. I won't leave if you want me to." 
 
 "I think this belongs to you as much as it does 
 to anybody else," said Liton, "but now go on and 
 attend to yourself." 
 
 An elderly man came sauntering along through 
 the hallway, stopped at the back door and looked 
 out over the court yard. 
 
 "Who's that?" ' 
 
 "That is our music teacher, Mr. Munsen. He can 
 teach violin, piano and cello. And he plays all of 
 them beautifully." 
 
 "Aren't you going for a swim, Mr. Munsen," 
 called out Rolan. 
 
 "Maybe I will," came back, with a slight Ger- 
 man accent. 
 
 "He always answers that way — 'Maybe I will,' " 
 whispered Liton, "but he is a lovely old man." 
 
 "Do come." 
 
 "I'd like to have you meet a friend of ours and 
 our school," said Liton again, addressing himself 
 to the old musician. "She used to be the principal 
 at Abolt when we were there."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 273 
 
 "Oh, in that horrible place." Mr. Munsen came 
 towards them and very courteously took off his 
 panama, and shook her hand very warmly. "Yes, 
 yes, I am very glad to meet you. A friend of this 
 school will always be a friend of mine." 
 
 "Mr. Munsen has already, in the two years that 
 he has been here developed a quartette, and they are 
 doing beautifully. He loves children, and is a splen- 
 did violinist. Just wait till you hear him." 
 
 Mr. Munsen, a little stout, with a very good- 
 natured, but always serious-looking, reddish face, 
 perspiring considerably, took the praise as a matter 
 of course, feeling that it was all due him, excused 
 himself, and went to prepare for the swimming 
 pool. 
 
 Miss Britter was shown the reflecting room in 
 the tower and had matters arranged for her there, 
 then shown one of the three white lovely bathrooms, 
 and left to herself. Mr. Liton and Mr. Rolan fol- 
 lowed the music teacher to the swimming pool. 
 
 "Oh, this poor, poor world," cried Miss Britter 
 to herself, while examining everything in the small 
 white tiled room. "How healthy and happy we 
 could all be. Why shouldn't we all be happy? Why 
 should the miserable necessities keep so many of us 
 away from our happiness? Had poor Nida had all 
 this she would still be living." She thought of con- 
 sumptive Nida's starving and cried. 
 
 Through with her bath and feeling free from 
 the dust and soot of so many miles of traveling, she 
 climbed the neat stairway to the reflecting room 
 in the tower. 
 
 If ever there was a room equipped for resting 
 purposes, this one was. Two of its four walls were
 
 274 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 made of interlocking windows, and one was almost 
 all door, leading to a very narrow balcony, from 
 which the juvenile astronomers watched their stars. 
 A telescope fixed in its stand, stood against a corn- 
 er, and in a small cabinet near it, were filed many 
 maps and charts of the heavens. On the solid wall 
 and in the two or three wooden spaces between the 
 windows of the other walls, hung colored astronomi- 
 cal prints and one dreamy landscape, in home-made 
 mission frames, to match the dark green mission 
 woodwork. 
 
 Miss Britter stood for a few moments after ex- 
 amining the room and gazed longingly down the 
 valley. Then, pulling the shutters to, she turned 
 the couch so that when lying on it, she could see 
 the landscape, fell upon it, and gave way to deep 
 slumber.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE VISION UNFOLDS ITS REALITY 
 
 She opened her eyes again. What had awakened 
 her, she did not know. But it came again. A sound 
 of music, a start and a sudden stop. Mr. Munsen 
 was practicing with his quartette. At times the 
 strings sounded crude, at others they were divine. 
 They would sing out in harmony, and a mistake 
 would stop them. There were the pictures on the 
 wall, the dreamy landscape, and the shepherd with 
 his sheep ; the strangely colored, fiery worlds floating 
 about in mysterious space, intensely blue. There 
 were the windows and the door, and upon every- 
 thing the spell of music, of evening, and of nature, 
 with its scent of flowers; feelings and sensations of 
 sadness and beauty, of the tragedy of human exis- 
 tence — feelings experienced by those who have lived, 
 seen, felt and suffered, who fall asleep and awake 
 into the quietude of an early evening. She lay that 
 way for some time. Thoughts serged in and out of 
 her consciousness. Dream upon dream, and recol- 
 lection after recollection lit up and died away like 
 the flashes of a lighthouse to the sea-weary voyager; 
 and a great soul-desire possessed her. 
 
 A rap on the door broke up her reverie. 
 
 A little girl of about seventeen, the oldest girl 
 at the school, with a soft, delicate pink face and an 
 exceptional amount of light brown hair, a mis- 
 chievous expression playing about between two 
 small dimples, and wearing a neatly pressed white 
 apron and cap. came in.
 
 276 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Supper will soon be ready, and I came to help 
 you," she said, eyeing the strange woman. 
 
 "Sit down with me for just two minutes, will 
 you, dear?" 
 
 She sat down upon the lower end of the couch. 
 
 "Have you been here long?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'm, very long. I was one of the first 
 girls to come here." 
 
 "Your father and mother live in the city?" 
 
 "I have no father and mother. I lived with an 
 aunt, but she mistreated me, and I ran away, and 
 did other things I shouldn't have, and now I am 
 here, and I hope I never have to go." 
 
 "Don't think of going, my dear." 
 
 "I like to go to the city sometimes, but I always 
 come back very tired. I feel much better here. Are 
 you going to stay with us?" 
 
 "I am not certain, dear, whether I shall or not. 
 If I can I will." 
 
 "Mr. Liton says you will." 
 
 "Does he?" Miss Britter smiled. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sure you'll like it. It was hard for me 
 at first — it used to seem so lonesome, no matter how 
 many people were here, but now I think it's just the 
 nicest place on earth. We have plenty to do and 
 a great deal of fun too. You can't have any more 
 than that in the city. We learn a lot here. W T e 
 make our own clothes, and Mr. Munsen is teaching 
 me to play the piano. Did you hear us practicing?" 
 
 "Yes. It is beautiful. I heard you play just 
 as I woke up. I think it was the most beautiful 
 sound I ever heard. What did you play?" 
 
 "We were just practicing. We played many 
 things."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 277 
 
 "What happy people you ought to be." 
 
 "We are. When I go back to the city and I 
 remind myself of the terrible times I used to have 
 at my aunt's, I begin to worry that something might 
 happen, don't you know, that would send me back 
 again to my aunt or let me go out to fight for 
 myself." 
 
 "Musn't feel that way. Mr. Liton will never 
 let any of you go out and be lost. Besides if you 
 ever did go, you would have to fight as hard as you 
 did have to before you came. You have a better 
 education now. You can do many things you 
 couldn't do before." 
 
 "I really am not afraid. I just think about it 
 sometimes." 
 
 "I suppose we ought to go down now." 
 
 "Yes, please," said Marguerite, "I don't like to 
 be late." 
 
 They prepared for supper quickly, and went 
 down into the dining room, where the entire family 
 was already gathered. Three boys, dressed in white 
 coats and aprons, waited. There was not much to 
 be done, for most of the food was already on the 
 table. They helped by changing dishes when neces- 
 sary, filling others when empty, and bringing the 
 desert. A little table stood neatly spread near a win- 
 dow. This table was to be used by the waiters 
 when through with their work, and they felt bet- 
 ter towards their work, since they were to eat at a 
 clean table when through. There were two large 
 tables and sixteen chairs about each. Mr. Liton, Mr. 
 Munsen, four of the girls and eight of the boys sat 
 at one of the tables, and Mr. Rolan, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Atkins and the rest of the boys and girls sat at the
 
 278 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 other. Miss Britter was given a seat at Mr. Litem's 
 table between Michael and Ernest, who sat near 
 each other. 
 
 The dining room was very simply arranged. A 
 number of prints hung on the walls. There were 
 many windows and the room was very light. Both 
 doors and windows were heavily screened, so that 
 few, if any flies, could have been seen. Mother At- 
 kins was very careful about that. 
 
 Big pitchers full of milk graced the middle and 
 end of each table, and about them were platters full 
 of tomatoes, lettuce, potatoes, beans, summer rad- 
 ishes, raw carrots, eggs, and plenty of good whole 
 wheat bread and butter. The day's work and pleas- 
 ure made everybody hungry and they ate a great 
 deal. Almost everything on the table was eaten up 
 and more was brought. The waiters walked about 
 the room and saw to it that everybody had what he 
 wanted. 
 
 The noise was immense for so small a room. 
 There was talking and laughing, and on the part 
 of the younger people, sometimes so loudly that Mr. 
 Liton or Mother Atkins, or some of the older peo- 
 ple were forced to call their attention, but never 
 was an individual called upon. As soon as they 
 were informed that there was too much noise the 
 excited individual who was referred to, calmed 
 down. 
 
 "Did you rest well?" asked Mr. Liton, addressing 
 Miss Britter. 
 
 "Yes, thank you. I feel very much better now." 
 
 "What do you think of this place?" 
 
 Miss Britter shook her head. "I can't express
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 279 
 
 myself. It seems that you have here everything that 
 Abolt lacked." 
 
 "That's been my mission." 
 The waiters took some of the dishes on the ta- 
 ble out into the kitchen and came back with plat- 
 ters of large ears of corn. 
 
 "What do you think of our corn, Miss Britter?" 
 asked Michael. "You never saw anything like it at 
 Abolt, did you?" 
 
 "I don't think I have seen anything like it any- 
 where; at least not in such quantities." 
 
 "You ought to see the stuff the farmers grow 
 down the hill," suggested Jack. 
 
 "We get ten ears to every one of theirs from 
 the same amount of ground, and we get better look- 
 ing ears and really don't have to work as hard." 
 The discussion on scientific agriculture was car- 
 ried on at Mr. Liton's end of the table, while the rest 
 of the boys and girls continued their laughter and 
 noise, till the table was partially cleared and the 
 desert was brought. 
 
 After supper the hammocks and outdoor rockers 
 were in great demand. Every one was allowed to 
 rest for half an hour, during which time the waiters 
 ate their meal. Then Mother Atkins announced it 
 time to clean up, and the smaller boys and the girls, 
 having learned from experience that it was very 
 necessary to go in at once, and only a very good 
 excuse was accepted, made for the kitchen and din- 
 ing room, and worked like beavers to get rid of the 
 job as soon as possible. The girls washed the dishes 
 and the boys dried them, and they were allowed to 
 laugh and joke all they pleased so long as they con- 
 tinued working. In that way the unpleasant work
 
 280 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 often became so interesting, that boys who were 
 supposed to work at the barn often asked to be al- 
 lowed to help in the kitchen. Duster, broom and 
 dustpan were set in motion, and in a single hour the 
 place was as clean as ever before. 
 
 The older boys with the men, made for the barns 
 and garden. Some milked the cows, some fixed the 
 barns up for the night, and the rest went out into the 
 garden, weeding and hoeing, for only in the high 
 cornfield could one hoe comfortably on hot sunny 
 days. When the people in the house and in the barn 
 were through with their work, the fellows out in 
 the garden were called in by the ringing of the bell, 
 and every one washed and put on clean comforta- 
 ble clothes. 
 
 "They have looked forward to this night for 
 some time," Mr. Liton told Miss Britter, "we have a 
 party to-night. This takes. place every two weeks. 
 The girls bake a great many things, make chocolate, 
 or lemonade when its warm, and we spend most of 
 the evening and part of the night near the swimming 
 pool. Mr. Munsen takes his violin and plays for us 
 out doors." 
 
 "What wonder that these children love this 
 place." 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you, Miss Britter. I figure this 
 way. The great struggle of the race is all for hap- 
 piness. When we get to the point where we are 
 certain we shall never again be happy, we commit 
 suicide. I can't make these people love this place 
 by making life for them one grand sermon on what 
 is right or wrong, that is certain. I'm going to do 
 all I possibly can to make them happy, and so long 
 as I do that they'll love this place and not only that,
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 281 
 
 but they will believe in me, and my teaching will 
 make impressions. You can't get away from the 
 fact that pleasure is all that all of us seek, in one 
 form or another, but pleasure it is. Children aren't 
 unreasonable. When they realize that I am really 
 trying hard to make them happy, they won't refuse 
 to be reasonable when I don't do just as they would 
 like me to." 
 
 Many of the boys, acting like little Indians, gath- 
 ered paper and wood and ran towards the swimming 
 pool, screaming or singing as they ran. The girls 
 carried the refreshments that they had made. Mr. 
 Atkins carried a large kettle, together with the neces- 
 saries for the making of lemonade, and some of the 
 boys carried pails of water and glasses. 
 
 The swimming pool was a well-cemented, very 
 large cellar, about as big as six ordinary sized cel- 
 lars, three feet deep on one side and sloping to ten 
 feet on the other. It was not far from the tennis 
 court, and was nearly surrounded by shrubs and 
 maple trees. A fence protected night prowlers from 
 falling in, and a large sandy spot in front was used 
 as a beach, upon which a camp fire could safely 
 blaze away. A spring coming from a part of the 
 hill higher up on one side fed the pool, and a 
 buried drain-pipe emptied the water into a creek 
 below when desired. 
 
 The camp fire lighted and the programme was 
 planned. There were to be games, music and re- 
 freshments. For fully an hour the younger people 
 played tag and other games, while the older ones 
 sat about the camp fire singing. 
 
 Then Mr. Munsen played his violin, one of the 
 violin solos that Miss Britter had heard so many
 
 282 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 times in Mr. Staver's sitting-room at Abolt. Each 
 note seemed to bring a recollection of its own. Def- 
 inite pictures, of her office, the roadways, the cot- 
 tages, the farm, the hills about Abolt, the valleys, 
 the dilapidated house and the black cellar hole and 
 its ruins, the boys, and Nida. These recollections 
 brought sensations, and the sensations blended with 
 a feeling of evening, of sparkling water, of the 
 camp-fire and happy children, and music, — and 
 she stared into the flames until the intense brightness 
 of the red and yellow flooded her vision and she 
 saw nothing definitely, every thing was turned to 
 sound and color — the past and present broke into 
 the elements of a dream. 
 
 Mr. Munsen played several numbers. Then re- 
 freshments were served and the real fun began. 
 All the pranks of boyhood, all the sweet, alluring 
 coquetries of innocent girlhood were revealed in the 
 process of their merry-making; and, without sham 
 or strain, with sincerity and keenest joy this little 
 drama, acted under the clear summer night sky in 
 the poetic light of their beloved bonfire, disclosed 
 their guidance by a philosophy that all their elders 
 well might strive to understand. 
 
 Mr. Munsen and Father and Mother Atkins soon 
 
 after retired. Miss Britter, Mr. Rolan, and Mr. Liton 
 
 went off to one side, where seated on rustic benches, 
 
 they retraced the steps they had taken during the 
 
 three years that preceded. 
 
 "Poor Nida," said Miss Britter, "a place like this 
 would have saved her life." 
 
 "Why didn't you write?" Rolan asked impa- 
 tiently.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 283 
 
 "1 don't know," she answered. "We felt that 
 you had troubles enough of your own." 
 
 "It is purely a case of martyrdom," Liton sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "There's no doubt about that. I told her doctor 
 of the conditions at Abolt, of the bad food and 
 the cold rooms and the endless worry and strug- 
 gle, and he said that if we had left a few 
 months earlier she would have been able to recover. 
 You see we had so much trouble financially after 
 we did leave. The railroad expenses were so great. 
 It was so hard for me to get work, and when I did 
 get it, it was impossible for me to give her the ser- 
 vice that she required. For weeks I did my sleeping 
 on a chair beside her. Oh, it was terrible!" 
 
 "Well, don't think about it any more," pleaded 
 Liton. 
 
 "Tell me how you managed to accomplish all 
 this," she began, anxious to do her share of dis- 
 pelling the gloom that thoughts of the past had 
 brought with them. 
 
 "In my second letter, which apparently you did 
 not receive, I told you that I got hold of a very rich 
 individual by the name of Mr. Storton, who gave 
 me twenty thousand dollars to set things going. He's 
 now in Europe, but will be back this fall and you 
 can meet him. He's a very interesting character. 
 But to come back to my story, we immediately got 
 after the owner of this place and paid him five thou- 
 sand for the buildings that you see and one hundred 
 acres of land. We have fourteen cows and eight 
 little calves; we have chickens and ducks, and raise 
 garden truck. You will get to know the details as 
 you stay here and work with us. We make all our
 
 284 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 living expenses from the farm, and every now and 
 then make more than enough to cover expenses. 
 We also earn quite a little with woodworking and 
 photography. We have a furniture dealer in Hill- 
 dale who buys our furniture and picture frames and 
 photographic prints. He takes all we can give him. 
 The first two years we lived on the twenty thousand 
 dollars that we started with. At the end of those two 
 years, after fixing this place up just as you see it, 
 we had five thousand dollars left, and that I placed 
 in a bank where it is drawing interest, and where it 
 will not be touched unless we are in grave need." 
 "Do they earn anything for themselves? 1 ' 
 "Oh, yes. We started out with the idea that this 
 is a commonwealth that is to be managed by its 
 citizens. Each individual must find his or her place, 
 and do his or her share of the necessary work. We 
 feel that whoever does his share, whoever does all 
 that he can do, is doing all that should be expected 
 of him, and that nobody can do any more. Should 
 anyone try to do less than that by shirking, every 
 time he is convicted of that offence by a jury, he 
 is fined whatever the jury thinks he should be fined 
 and that is held against him. When the end of the 
 year comes, and we have figured out the amount 
 that we have earned above the amount that we have 
 spent, and have decided upon how much shall be 
 kept by the school and how much is due each of 
 the individual workers, all who have worked during 
 the entire year get the same amount; each individ- 
 ual must pay to the school out of his share, the sum 
 of all his fines during the year." 
 
 The three older girls were huddled together in a 
 group on one side of the fire, and the older boys, in
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 285 
 
 a similar group, sat opposite them on the other side 
 of the fire. One group was trying to outdo the other 
 in repartee and being generally witty. At a distance 
 from them a number of boys were stretched on the 
 sand, while the rest of the boys and girls sat about 
 the water or played with their bare feet dangling in 
 it. 
 
 "What have you for me to do here?" 
 
 "There'll be plenty for you to do. Don't you 
 worry," said Rolan. 
 
 "Mother Atkins is a lovely woman, but the girls 
 need an educated woman about them. That's the 
 place you will fill." 
 
 "Tell me. Where did you get such a nice couple?" 
 
 "They were living on a farm that was heavily 
 mortgaged. I happened to pass their place, 'twas 
 only about three miles towards the left here, and 
 stopped for a drink. After a few minutes of talking 
 to them, I made up my mind that they were just the 
 people I wanted. Mr. Atkins told me that there was 
 a rumor that the mortgage on his place would be 
 foreclosed, and I offered them the position they now 
 have. They were delighted. You see they have a 
 good home assured to them, and whatever we can 
 afford to give them each year they are willing to 
 take. They have no worries whatever, put a little 
 into the bank, and since they like children, they 
 have a great deal of pleasure. How many couples 
 in this world get that much out of life?" 
 
 It was time to retire and everybody was so in- 
 formed. 
 
 One by one and group by group they arose and 
 stretched their limbs, looking very much like a brood 
 of sleepy kittens just stirred.
 
 286 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 It was somewhat cool. The girls put their arms 
 around each other and the boys carried the pails, 
 plates, and glasses. 
 
 The hallway, when they reached it through the 
 court yard door, was lit up by a soft green light. 
 Mother Atkins, her husband and Mr. Munsen were 
 sound asleep. 
 
 Mr. Liton, Mr. Rolan, and the boys slept on the 
 second floor, while the girls' bedrooms were on the 
 floor above. Miss Britter was conducted to the little 
 room that was to be hers, and when she was left 
 there alone, the expressions of emotion that she had 
 been forced to keep back, were let loose, and for 
 sheer happiness, woman fashion, she cried. 
 
 Mr. Liton was the last one to retire. When he 
 thought everybody was in bed he walked into the 
 court yard, glanced over all the windows, the shop, 
 and the gateway, stepped up to the wall, where the 
 rope was held by strong vines and leaves, pulled the 
 bell up as far as it could go, and dropped it. A 
 thundering gong shook the air above the hill and 
 woods, and softened into a rounded vibration like 
 that of the string of a 'cello, and then weakened and 
 was lost. Save for his careful steps along the hall- 
 way and up the wide staircase, not a sound was 
 heard anywhere.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ONE DAY ON TOWER HILL 
 
 It was five o'clock next morning when the bell 
 again called out over the hill, and announced that 
 those who wished to take their morning swim should 
 don their bathing suits and hurry down. Immedi- 
 ately following this announcement, noises were 
 heard from all the boys' rooms, for no matter how 
 strong was the desire to continue sleeping, they 
 would rather have lost their breakfast than the 
 morning dive. Some, still rubbing their eyes, and 
 others stretching to dispel all traces of drowsiness, 
 together with Mr. Liton and Mr. Rolan, dashed for 
 the pool, each anxious to be the first to dive in. 
 
 Plunge after plunge, and splash after splash were 
 heard at the house, and the yelling and screaming 
 that accompanied each plunge and splash always 
 awakened the girls, who persisted in sleeping on. 
 The water was rather cold that morning, and very 
 few did more than cross the pool two or three times 
 before they emerged dripping, shivering and laugh- 
 ing, and circulating as fast as they could on the 
 sandy track about the pool. 
 
 "It is five-thirty now, boys," said Mr. Liton. "We 
 have a great deal of work to do to-day." 
 
 By the time they returned to the house the girls 
 were already below and dressed, and before many 
 more minutes were over all bathing suits were hang- 
 ing on the line to dry, and Mother Atkins was try- 
 ing very hard to get the stove into good working 
 condition.
 
 288 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 The boys were detailed to their respective work. 
 Those who knew how, were given three cows each 
 to milk, ten of the boys were to feed, clean and comb 
 the horses, while the three smallest boys were asked 
 to help Mother Atkins in the house. 
 
 "I feel like getting to work myself," said Miss 
 Britter. 
 
 The sun had sent its light ahead of it, and then 
 began climbing over a long row of trees, looking 
 for all the world like a hedge around the earth. The 
 air was clear, full of fragrance, and exhilarating. 
 From the barn came shouting, whistling and sing- 
 ing, and the noise was often answered by farmer 
 boys away below toward the east. 
 
 Breakfast was ready, and Marguerite asked Miss 
 Britter to go with her to the barn and watch the 
 boys who were still milking. The barn was on the 
 slope of the hill on its western side and far enough 
 below to keep from obstructing the view. 
 
 Most of the boys were through, and one was 
 helping his friend, pulling away at the udders of 
 the last cow, whose restlessness proved her dislike 
 of the method. 
 
 "Can you milk, Miss Britter?" asked Ernest, as 
 soon as he spied her, looking under the cow he was 
 milking and towards the right of his helper. "I 
 guess I wasn't cut out for milking cows." 
 
 "Who was cut out for it?" demanded George, 
 a lanky individual with a long, pale face and light 
 hair, neatly combed. 
 
 "It won't interfere with your genius, Ernest, take 
 it from me," suggested Michael, who was sitting 
 on a stone by himself peculiarly affected by the 
 presence of the visitors,
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 289 
 
 Miss Britter looked at them admiringly. What a 
 change had come upon both of them, since she had 
 last seen them. Every feature of their faces, though 
 apparently unchanged, showed the influence of a 
 better outlook upon life and the approach to man- 
 hood. 
 
 "My dear sir," Ernest retorted, "it's very nice of 
 you fellows to accuse me of genius, even though, 
 coming as it does, it's more of an insult than a 
 compliment. But who cares? 'Let me essay you, 
 Muse!"' 
 
 '"Some more poetry, poetry!" some one shouted 
 from the woodpile. "Get done with your milking, 
 and do your liming by yourself." 
 
 "Cultured people, these," said Ernest, sarcastical- 
 ly, shaking his head in the direction of the crowd 
 of boys, and addressing himself to Miss Britter. 
 
 "If that cow could only give poetry instead of 
 milk," put in a little fellow, as he threw a stone 
 over the trees into the woods, Ernest would be the 
 first through." 
 
 "Stop all that fighting and bring your milk to 
 the kitchen," cried Marguerite. "Everybody is wait- 
 ing for you and breakfast will be cold." 
 
 Everything said was taken with a good grace 
 and the milkmen made for the house with their 
 milk. 
 
 Mother Atkins announced that breakfast was 
 ready, and every one made for the dining room and 
 took his or h.°r place about the tables. 
 
 The sun broke right through the screen on the 
 two big eastern windows, played on the floor, and 
 dnneed about from one shining dish (o another.
 
 290 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 The three boys, whose turn it was to wait on the 
 table that day, were there with their white coats and 
 aprons, and helped wherever they could. A small 
 dish of huckleberries, an individual small pitcher of 
 cream, one or two glassfuls of milk, some summer 
 radishes, boiled eggs, and plenty of bread and butter, 
 constituted each one's breakfast; and the appetite 
 they gained by the morning's work and exuberant 
 air left very little uneaten. 
 
 Just as they were leaving the table, the truck 
 peddler's voice was heard from without, and Mr. 
 Liton went out, followed by most of the boys, to at- 
 tend to him. 
 
 "Good morning," cried the peddler, "what have 
 you got for me this morning?" 
 
 "Anything you want." 
 
 He then enumerated all the vegetables he wanted, 
 and Mr. Liton called on all the boys to go for them. 
 
 The wagon was soon filled with several bushels 
 of new potatoes, beets, lettuce, string beans, and a 
 great deal of sweet corn. Everything salable was 
 dug up and brought. This was every boy's sale, and 
 each one was interested. The peddler was anxious 
 to buy everything that was brought to him, it being 
 so early in the season and so hard for the other ped- 
 dlers to get all they wanted. 
 
 "Do you want any eggs?" asked George. 
 
 "Sure, how many you got?" 
 
 "We can let you have thirty dozen." 
 
 "Sure, come ahead." 
 
 The thirty dozen eggs were hardly on the wagon 
 when one of the boys suggested, "You want some 
 nice summer apples, don't you? Nice big yellow 
 
 ones."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 291 
 
 "Good and sweet? 1 ' 
 
 "Wait, I'll bring you some," said the little fellow, 
 and ran off to get a specimen. 
 
 "Dandy," said the peddler, smacking his lips and 
 winking a well protected eye. "How much can you 
 pick me of those?" 
 
 "We have sixty trees full of those apples." 
 
 "Good, I'll take ten barrels a week from you, if 
 you let 'em go cheap." 
 
 "We haven't anything cheap," said Mr. Liton. 
 "They're good ; you will have to give us what they're 
 worth. We can get a number of dealers to take them 
 all and do their own picking." 
 
 "I'll give you two-fifty apiece." 
 
 "No, vou won't." 
 
 "For takin' ten barrels a week? I got to make 
 something on them?" 
 
 "Shall we let him have them for two seventy- 
 five?" 
 
 "Sure," cried the peddler. "They ain't worth 
 more!" 
 
 It was decided that he be given them for two 
 seventy-five a barrel, and the peddler rode off with 
 his load. 
 
 Mr. Liton called Michael aside. 
 
 "Michael," he said, "I have a hundred and fifty 
 dollars in cash and I want you to go to the city and 
 deposit it." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 Michael went off to the village and the rest of 
 the boys were detailed to the different work to be 
 done that day. The potatoes were to be treated 
 against a possible multiplication of a single potato 
 bug discovered; the corn was to be hoed, and a con-
 
 292 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 siderable amount of hay to be cut, raked and cocked. 
 With Mr. Liton, Mr. Rolan, and Mr. Atkins in the 
 lead, the different sized boys went to their appro- 
 priate jobs, and the girls began the house-cleaning, 
 with Miss Britter, in spite of protests, glad to help. 
 
 The breakfast dishes were washed. Every room 
 in the house was swept with a vacuum cleaner, and 
 the whole place made spotless. When through, the 
 girls were pretty tired, and Mother Atkins told them 
 to go to the hammocks and rest until eleven o'clock. 
 
 "Let's go out and see them making hay, shall 
 we?" asked Miss Britter. 
 
 "Sure, and take them something to drink." 
 
 "Where is Gabriel?" asked Bessie, a stout, stubby 
 girl of about fifteen, looking at Marguerite and 
 making her blush and protest. 
 
 "He's gone to the village to-day. Evangeline's 
 heart is not on making ale for the haymakers. 'Ga- 
 briel is gone!' " 
 
 "They're all Gabriels to me," she replied, decid- 
 ing that that was a much better attitude to take. 
 
 Marguerite and Bessie, one on each side of Miss 
 Britter, were seated on the hammock, while the other 
 five girls sat near them on the grass. 
 
 Bessie was a very serious little girl of fifteen, who 
 looked more like a woman of fifty. She was the 
 last one brought to Tower Hill, but had in the short 
 year that she had been there acquired a few good 
 habits, a little youth, and a reddish tint in her cheeks. 
 She was picked up, a little mother to two tiny baby 
 sisters, keeping house and earning money at the 
 same time. Her little sisters were taken to an or- 
 phan asylum and she herself was brought to Tower 
 Hill. She was quickly outgrowing the evil stunting
 
 A BLNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 293 
 
 effects of her former environment, and gaining the 
 attitude of healthy youth, which she had so un- 
 fairly been forced to pass over; but there were still 
 occasional moments when the fear of being forced 
 to return to her former existence worried her, and 
 at those times she would fall back into the stupid 
 look of the slum mother, but always the brighter ex- 
 pression would conquer at the sound of the childish 
 mirth on the part of her happier playmates. 
 
 Of the other five seated on the grass, Gonsuelo 
 interested Miss Britter most. She was rather dark, 
 the type of a Spanish beauty. Her mother had 
 danced her life away on the stage, and her father 
 found more profit in her early walking the street 
 than in his own labor, and so took the advantage, 
 until she was arrested and sent to an institution 
 for wayward girls. At this institution her life was 
 made miserable. They had taken a swell-dressed 
 little songbird from her fast existence, full of ex- 
 citement, and during six months of slavery attempt- 
 ed to train her in the profession of house servant. 
 Her rebellion brought her into heavy trouble, and 
 she sought to get the best of the world by commit- 
 ting suicide. She was saved for the first time in 
 her life, from (as she had often said herself) the 
 best thing she had ever attempted to do. The judge, 
 who took an interest in her, told her story to Mr. 
 Liton, and asked whether he would take her. Mr. 
 Liton found her a great study and very hard to 
 influence. She had become a cynic, and to her 
 there was nothing in life worth living for; but Mr. 
 Liton had managed to get at Maguerite's inherent 
 goodness, and through her, accomplished what had
 
 294 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 never been accomplished in Consuelo before. She 
 did like Marguerite. 
 
 Consuelo sat admiring Miss Britter; there was 
 something about her she liked. Miss Britter, on the 
 other hand, for the time being, worried about the 
 cynical expression that never left the slightly shut 
 magical eyes and her tender little mouth, closed 
 tight. 
 
 Near Consuelo, in a sleeping posture, with her 
 cheek on her right arm and her eyes open and di- 
 rected upon Miss Britter, lay Sarah, a girl of four- 
 teen. She had innocently followed her widowed 
 mother in the art of shoplifting. Whatever her vices 
 and shortcomings generally might have been, one 
 virtue she possessed. She was immaculate. Every- 
 thing about her was perfectly clean and neat, and 
 her round, plumb little face beamed with a con- 
 trolled mirth and mischievousness. 
 
 Minnie, Louisa and Julia were three little sisters, 
 whose home it was said was incapable of proper 
 guardianship, and who took to Tower Hill very 
 warmly. Mother Atkins worshipped them; they 
 were her babies, and in turn, worshipped her. These 
 girls were the first to be interested in making a drink 
 for the haymakers. They rushed into the house and 
 prevailed upon Mother Atkins to give them the neces- 
 sary number of lemons and amount of sugar. 
 
 Miss Britter started up, and the rest followed. The 
 lemonade was made in two large milk pails, and 
 they started for the fields, four of the girls carrying 
 the two pails, and the rest of them each a glass. 
 
 "Let's go by the corn field," said Marguerite. 
 "Some of the boys are hoeing there."
 
 A BUNCH OP LITTLE THIEVES 295 
 
 Nine of the smaller boys were hidden among the 
 leaves of the cornstalks, making their way down 
 the field, each at one row and all working together, 
 that they might talk with Mr. Rolan, whose head 
 alone was visible, and by which they were located. 
 At sight of the milk pails they set up a howl and 
 crowded about the welcome guests. 
 
 "You fellows here, can have only three-quarters 
 of one pailful," cried Bessie threateningly, holding 
 down the lid of the pail she was in charge of with 
 both hands. 
 
 "I want only one glass," said Foxy Willie, ad- 
 monishingly, adding, after she had allowed him 
 to take one glassful, "at a time." 
 
 Sarah, who admired Willie at all times, was es- 
 pecially delighted with this exhibition of wit, and 
 laughed heartily, while Bessie, in her usual mother- 
 like manner, went on, "Is that so? Well, yes, if 
 your three-quarters is not all gone after you have 
 all had one glassful." 
 
 Luckily the three-quarters were not gone, and 
 like all the others, he was given a second glassful, 
 which he took, bowing with gratitude, and inciden- 
 tally pleasing Sarah more than ever. 
 
 On the hayfield they came upon Mr. Atkins, driv- 
 ing his team of heavy horses hitched to a mower, 
 which filled the air with the inspiring sound of the 
 blades as they rapidly flew in and out among their 
 iron fingers, cutting down the thick fragrant clover. 
 A strong boy, called Brown, sat on the seat of the 
 rake and sang at the top of his voice, driving a big 
 bony horse, and with the power of his right leg, 
 lifted and let fall the rakes behind him, gathering 
 the dry hay into long rolls. Away at the other end
 
 296 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 of the field, they could see Mr. Liton with some 
 eight boys, all armed with forks, breaking up these 
 rolls and piling the hay into cocks. 
 
 They served Mr. Atkins and Brown and started 
 for the rest of the workers. How thirsty those boys 
 were! They actually fell upon the pails, and with 
 fervent apologies, strove to atone for their bad ac- 
 tions while committing them, and the lemonade, 
 against all the protests the girls could make, went at 
 a most fearful rate. It was by sheer force that Mar- 
 guerite saved Mr. Liton's portion. She grabbed the 
 pail and ran wfth it, and when she was out of reach, 
 started back slowly, informing them that Mr. Liton 
 hadn't had any yet, and thereby most magically 
 checking them. 
 
 They went on making haycocks, thanking the 
 girls for their kindness as they worked, and invited 
 them pleadingly to call again. 
 
 Gonsuelo selected a very dry and interesting hay- 
 cock, and after making sure that there were no 
 field mice there, fell upon it with the remark, ''This 
 is fine, I'm going to sleep." 
 
 Some of the other girls followed, and began to 
 shove each other about in an attempt to get the best 
 place. Finally they compromised by giving Miss 
 Britter the highest part of the pile. 
 
 The three little sisters and Sarah began to play, 
 "Pussy wants a corner" among the many other hay- 
 cocks. 
 
 "I could just sleep my life away like this," said 
 Gonsuelo, instinctively drawing nearer to Miss Brit- 
 ter. 
 
 "Oh, no you wouldn't," said Miss Britter, "I'm 
 sure you wouldn't, In a single day you would get
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 297 
 
 tired of it and would want to run off and stretch." 
 
 '"You get tired of everything," she answered phil- 
 osophically. 
 
 "Yes, if you don't do them the right way. If you 
 set your heart on something within a few feet of 
 you or so far away that there is no hope of ever 
 reaching it, you get tired of everything, but if you 
 make up your mind to get at things that are great 
 and attainable, I mean things that it is possible for 
 you to accomplish and that will not only give you 
 joy but those about you as well, you never get tired 
 of doing that, You get more pleasure from that 
 kind of work each day." 
 
 •'I think there is great pleasure in helping other 
 people," said Marguerite. "I know that the two or 
 three good things I have done to other people, have 
 made me happier than all the other things I have 
 done in all my life." 
 
 "Oh, how tired you'd get trying to help people," 
 insisted Consuelo, "there are so many that need 
 help." 
 
 "If everybody did his share, there wouldn't be 
 so many." 
 
 "But," cried Bessie, who seemed to have been 
 asleep, "that's just what we have to do, as Mr. Liton 
 said so many times. We must try to make the world 
 lx 'Iter, so much better that there won't be anybody 
 to need help." 
 
 "Mother Atkins is calling us," cried Minnie, slop- 
 ping the game. 
 
 Mother Atkins was leaning out over the narrow 
 balcony of one of the towers, waving her handker- 
 chief.
 
 298 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I suppose," said Consuelo, jumping up in re- 
 sponse, and smiling, "you're all right." 
 
 "Look how beautifully you play the piano," said 
 Marguerite, paying no attention to her last remark. 
 
 "What help my piano playing would be to the 
 world. I suppose if I worked very hard I would be 
 able to stun the world with my genius." 
 
 "I firmly believe that you could become a very 
 great player," said Miss Britter, "if you wanted to 
 badly enough!" 
 
 "Gome quickly, girls," said Mother Atkins when 
 they reached the house. "What will the boys say if 
 we won't have dinner ready for them when they 
 come?" 
 
 Aprons dashed over dresses, and the kitchen 
 was soon filled with the sounds of voices, the sizz- 
 ling of frying-pans, the clanking of dishes, and with 
 these sounds, the rising of vapors. The four small- 
 est girls were sent to the strawberry patch to fill 
 a number of wooden boxes with all the berries they 
 could pick. Miss Britter, with Marguerite and Gon- 
 suelo, then started to fix the dining room. The win- 
 dow blinds were sent up as far as they could go, 
 every bit of furniture was carefully dusted, the 
 tables were set, and the conversation was continued. 
 
 "You may ring the bell, now," said Mother At- 
 kins an hour later, when they were ready. 
 
 Bessie pulled the rope hard and long. Glad 
 shouts were soon heard — the youngsters were com- 
 ing home. 
 
 On the ground floor of the shop, they had built 
 a long, rather high bench, and on this stood numer- 
 ous enamel wash dishes. Above each of these, on 
 the wall, hung a towel, a looking glass, and an oil-
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 299 
 
 cloth bag, containing a small brush and comb. All 
 the boys piled into the room, yelling, talking, laugh- 
 ing, or arguing, and the four little girls, glad to see 
 them, stood in the doorway. 
 
 After dinner, some of the boys fell upon the 
 lawn to rest. Some got after the day's newspaper, 
 some read letters that they had received, some read 
 books, while some appropriated the hammocks. 
 When their food had been given a chance to digest, 
 they were given permission to go swimming. 
 
 "When you hear the bell ring," said Mr. Liton, 
 "come back quickly, will you? I want you to go 
 with me and take a few interesting pictures in the 
 hayfield. You will put on your overalls and straw 
 hats, those sombreros that you wore this morning, 
 and anything else that will make you look like real 
 farmers." 
 
 Nothing pleased the boys more than picture-tak- 
 ing excursions, save perhaps going for a swim, so 
 that after having put their bathing suits on, they 
 dashed away to the pool, jumping and turning som- 
 ersaults, intoxicated with delight. 
 
 "I'm going for a swim myself, Liton, aren't you?" 
 said Rolan. 
 
 "No, I'd rather not just now. I want to show 
 Miss Britter about the place." 
 
 Mr. Rolan went for his swim, while Miss Britter 
 and Mr. Liton walked up to the second floor of the 
 two-story shop building, and into a large room, oc- 
 cupied by a dozen benches, surrounded by pieces of 
 unfinished furniture and all manner of shapes and 
 sizes and grades of boards. "You ought to see this 
 place when the boys are at work. The banging away
 
 300 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 of their hammers, the sawing and scraping and 
 pounding is music to me." 
 
 He then took her to a room back of the shop 
 that was almost filled with furniture that the boys 
 had made, and that needed but little further fixing 
 up to be ready for the furniture dealer. 
 
 From there they went to the mysterious-looking 
 metal room, with its many charcoal and gas burn- 
 ers, its tools and work benches, and above all, the 
 dark stains on the walls and windows. 
 
 "When does your school open?" 
 
 "Our school opens as soon as we are through 
 with the farm work." 
 
 "A boy or girl going through this school," said 
 Miss Britter, "ought to be able to get along in the 
 world." 
 
 "Yes, I think they will be able to get along es- 
 pecially well. Although they are taught definite 
 work, the aim in the teaching is not to make pro- 
 fessionals or tradesmen, but all-around, capable 
 moral men and women, who will be able to meet 
 the requirements of the world when they return to 
 it. Some will remain farmers, and others will go 
 to photography or office work, but all will be able 
 to use their brains and their hands." 
 
 They entered a medium-sized room, in which 
 were several long, plain wooden tables. Two doors 
 led to two other rooms. One of the other rooms had 
 a skylight and was fixed up as a photographic stu- 
 dio; the other was the dark room. 
 
 "What is this room used for?" 
 
 "For finishing their prints, and the girls take 
 their sewing lessons here."
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 301 
 
 The studio was a very neat little room, with cur- 
 tains and draperies of every shade and color. There 
 were a few artistically shaped chairs and stools, a 
 platform, a movable fireplace, a large camera and 
 stand, and a number of other strange-looking ob- 
 jects. The dark room w r as clean and airy, with 
 long shallow basins along the length of two of the 
 walls, over them were faucets, and from under them 
 a number of leaden pipes broke through the floor 
 to carry off the surplus water. A number of wash- 
 ing machines, drying racks, trays, plate-boxes, and 
 a vast host of large and small bottles, were crowded 
 on shelves and in corners. 
 
 "We did much more picture-taking last summer 
 than this." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "We have so many already. We have made 
 use of a great number ourselves, and have won 
 prizes for quite a few of them. You see the dealer 
 can usually sell some pictures much more easily 
 than others. There are about twenty large prints 
 that seem to be popularly liked in Hilldale, and since 
 he keeps asking for them, and since we can make 
 as many prints as we like from the same plates, we 
 just save time by not taking any more for selling 
 purposes. If we get an interesting idea we go out. 
 To-day I expect to take something nice in the hav- 
 field." 
 
 "They like to take pictures?" 
 
 "Just wild about it." 
 
 "I must learn to take pictures, myself." 
 
 "Any time that you wish to." 
 
 "What have you in the second tower?" Miss
 
 302 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Britter asked when they were in the court yard 
 again. "That has been worrying me." 
 
 "The second tower, if you please, is my sanctum 
 sanctorum. There lie documents of infinite value 
 to me. There I have my diary, which I have kept 
 since this school was opened." 
 
 "When may I take a peep up there?" 
 
 "After you have been here for a few months; 
 when you have made up your mind as to the char- 
 acter of each of them, you may go up there, lock 
 yourself up, and see what I have had to say about 
 them. There you will learn what a struggle it has 
 all been. How I have had to work to develop the 
 different personalities you see walking about and 
 doing their work. There you will read about my 
 temporary failures and final victories — the disap- 
 pointments I have suffered and the rewards I have 
 enjoyed." 
 
 "Can't I even look in there, now?" 
 
 "You can look into the room, if you want to, 
 but there is nothing of interest in the room itself. 
 It is exactly like the room in the other tower, only 
 that instead of a couch I have a desk, instead of 
 the telescope, I have a typewriter, and instead of 
 pictures of the planets I have photographs of chil- 
 dren." 
 
 The bell rang. The bathers returned, rushed up 
 the stairway and into their rooms, and soon after 
 came down again, dressed in their overalls and wear- 
 ing their large-brimmed straw hats, each boy and 
 girl carrying his or her own little camera. 
 
 It was four o'clock when they returned from the 
 hayfield. The cameras and the exposed plates and 
 films were left in the photographic dark room to
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 303 
 
 be developed next day, and then everyone returned 
 to his work. Mr. Rolan, with his set of boys, made 
 for the potato patches, while Mr. Liton, Mr. Atkins, 
 and their sets of boys went back to making hay. 
 Mother Atkins, Miss Britter and the girls had re- 
 mained at home to finish their work. When 
 the boys returned to the house to put their cameras 
 away the girls were out on the lawn playing tennis. 
 In an attempt to teach Miss Britter a certain stroke, 
 Marguerite stretched too far and tore some part of 
 her dress. She started at once for her room to fix 
 it. Mother Atkins was sound asleep in her ham- 
 mock, and she stepped lightly when she passed her. 
 There was not a sound in the entire house when she 
 entered, and a peculiar feeling came over her as her 
 steps, light as they were, creaked upon the stairway. 
 
 Michael arrived at Abolt on the three o'clock 
 train. A number of people about the station greeted 
 him, but he returned their greetings half-heartedly, 
 for the excitement in his brain was too great and 
 worked its way out in a flush upon his face. He 
 felt it, and like any one in those circumstances, he 
 desired to speak as little as possible, and quickly 
 made for the road and the ascending path. 
 
 Strange discussions took place in his mind, and 
 often the arguments against the plans that a while 
 ago he had felt to be unbreakable became so strong 
 that he saw them in vague piles of wreckage. He 
 would then stop on the road and think harder and 
 deeper, but he found his plans well laid, after all 
 the arguments were overturned, and the heat 
 of controversy sent him quicker on his way. It 
 was very quiet on the hilltop. He could hear the
 
 304 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 boys at work in the fields and the girls playing 
 tennis. 
 
 He paused a moment or two on the porch to look 
 about, then entered the hallway and made his way 
 up the stairs. On the second floor, at the end of 
 the hall, Mr. Liton had a desk. Michael opened one 
 of its drawers and dropped the bank book into it. 
 As he turned to go down again, he heard a sound of 
 someone walking on the floor above him. 
 
 Marguerite had fixed her dress and was about 
 to return to the tennis lawn. 
 
 "Oh, Marguerite," he cried on discovering it was 
 her. You are just the one I want to see. Gome out 
 on the porch, I have something very important I 
 want to tell you." 
 
 "If they see us together, they'll be having lots of 
 fun with us," thought Marguerite, but there was 
 something about the expression of his face that 
 brushed that thought away, and she followed him. 
 
 They sat down upon two rockers, near each oth- 
 er, and he hurriedly told her of a good fortune that 
 had fallen to his lot during this one day's adventure, 
 and carefully mapped out a plan of action, to which 
 she was to be a partner, and which thrilled her girl- 
 ish heart as girlish hearts are thrilled but once in 
 their lives ; and when Mother Atkins awoke and 
 called the girls from the tennis lawn, the conversa- 
 tion was brought to a close by a hasty shower of 
 words of endearment. Marguerite arose, for she 
 was still at Tower Hill, and Michael embraced and 
 kissed her fervently. She responded, and then 
 rushed back into the kitchen, and he went out on his 
 way to the barn.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 305 
 
 Supper was made and the haymakers were called 
 in from the field. 
 
 "Those who are in favor of," began Mr. Liton 
 at the supper table, rising, from his seat, then paus- 
 ing and smiling as the curiosity in each mind forced 
 them to stare at him and wait patiently, "of — a 
 moonlight hay ride tonight, signify by — " 
 
 He did not stop to take a vote nor to designate 
 the manner of doing so, for the noise that followed 
 was more of a vote than necessary. 
 
 Supper was eaten in a great hurry and the re- 
 quired work after it, was done with no less im- 
 patience. 
 
 Mr. Liton started for the barn, and Michael, tak- 
 ing the opportunity, dashed after him. 
 
 "Are you very anxious to take that ride to-night, 
 Mr. Liton?" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I would like to stay home and talk to you. I 
 have many important things I want to tell you." 
 
 Mr. Liton was slightly disappointed, for he did 
 want to go with them, but such a request from 
 Michael warranted no procrastination. He merely 
 answered, "All right then; we will stay by our- 
 selves and do all the talking we want to." 
 
 The cries of the excursionists, the impatience of 
 the horses and the rumbling sounds as the racks 
 were pulled out and away, caused slight feelings of 
 regret on the part of both Mr. Liton and his foster 
 son; but the desire to hear, on the part of one, and 
 the desire to tell, on the part of the other, dismissed 
 this regret and sent them up to the second tower, to 
 Mr. Liton's sanctum.
 
 306 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "i 
 
 'I have so many things to tell you," began 
 Michael, when Mr. Liton had seated himself in his 
 desk chair, and he had drawn a rocker as close to 
 him as possible, and had fallen into it, "I don't know 
 where to begin." 
 
 Mr. Liton smiled but the flushed face of Michael 
 worried him. 
 
 "Start anywhere." 
 
 "Do you remember Dick Kennen of Abolt 
 School?" 
 
 "I think I do." 
 
 "He was sent there a little while after me. He is 
 the boy that tried to run away and that Saunders 
 kicked so hard that they had to operate on him." 
 
 "Oh yes, I remember now." 
 
 "I bought a newspaper while in the city today, 
 and there on the front page was the heading, "Boys 
 at Reform School Assault Guards and Escape!" I 
 read further and, sure enough, I found that Dick 
 Kennen, with three other boys, had turned on Bloate 
 and Reilly, almost killed them, and escaped. They 
 haven't been found yet, but I know it will go hard 
 with them when they are caught, and I know, too, 
 that they are not to blame for what they did. If 
 they are sent to prison there is no more hope for 
 them. 
 
 "Dick used to be a good friend of mine. He and 
 Skinny Lud, the boy that died at Abolt before you 
 left, and I used to meet in a vacant lot near our street, 
 under a rusty piece of tin. and there we had a camp. 
 We used to steal things to eat and take them there, 
 cook them on a fire, and have the meals that we 
 couldn't get at home. Dick was a good boy. He 
 did what he did, just as I and many others did what
 
 A BUNUH OF LITTLE THIEVES 307 
 
 we did, because we had to. We were hungry and 
 we had no other way of getting something to eat. 
 
 Dick was the better boy of the two of us. He 
 wasn't as mean and cranky as I was. He took 
 everything good naturally and laughed at it, that is 
 why you and Miss Britter helped me out and let him 
 go, but he is a very good fellow, and I am sure if 
 you could get him up here you'd make a good man 
 of him." 
 
 Michael stopped for a reply. 
 
 "I am afraid it's going to be very hard. You 
 see he is much older than you were when I got you 
 away from Abolt, and his offense is a very bad one. 
 I mean the authorities will not be apt to excuse it." 
 
 "Can't it be shown that I was really worse than 
 he, but that decent treatment got me to see matters 
 differently, and that had they been treated right 
 they never should have done that? Can't it be shown 
 how terribly they treat the boys there? Can't we 
 show that Bloate and Reilly are brutes? Couldn't 
 we, say Ernest and I, go to court and testify?" 
 
 "I'll tell you," said Mr. Liton after a few moments 
 of silent thinking, "suppose you get together with 
 Ernest and Jack and let Ernest write up a speech 
 that will tell all that. He has a wonderful power of 
 expressing himself in words on paper, and you can 
 talk much better than he can. Let him draw up the 
 speech, and you learn it. The three of you can 
 think of a great many things about Abolt, I mean 
 to show why Reilly and Bloate are brutes, and I will 
 make for the city to-morrow, get a lawyer, and de- 
 mand a trial for them, if they are caught, already. 
 The lawyer can arrange for your telling your story." 
 
 Michael's excitement was great.
 
 308 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "When I come back," Mr. Liton went on, "I can 
 look over what Ernest has wrtten, and advise you as 
 to changes, if any are necessary." 
 
 "There is something else, I want to tell you about 
 to-night," Michael began again, hesitatingly. 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "On my way back from the city, I met a man who 
 has a large estate in the Adirondack mountains. He 
 has five children, who he said were not getting good 
 education because the teachers they get there are 
 fellows who have had nothing more than a country 
 school education. Sometimes he said they can't 
 even get a poor teacher. He said that he would be 
 willing to pay out of his own pocket to add to the 
 salary that the district gives if he could get a good 
 teacher. After having a long talk with him, he said 
 he would like to have me go there and teach for 
 them. The district pays eight dollars a week, and 
 he is willing to add four." 
 
 "You want to leave Tower Hill?" 
 
 "No, I hate to leave Tower Hill, but there is some- 
 thing else." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Marguerite and I have decided that we would 
 like to work together the rest of our lives. We want 
 to marry. We would like to go out there, get some 
 experience in teaching, and come back and help you 
 in this kind of work." 
 
 "Why couldn't you stay here and do the same?" 
 
 "We feel kind of funny about it. We wouldn't 
 stay away more than a year. It would be different 
 then. It would give us a chance to — " 
 
 "I understand perfectly — you're quite right. I 
 don't blame you at all. I think it would be better.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 309 
 
 Give you a chance lo see the world by yourselves. 
 You can come back afterwards; perhaps by that 
 time I will be able to start another school like this, 
 and you can help me.' 
 
 He stretched his hand out to him and Michael 
 grabbed it and kissed it. "Here's to your future 
 happiness and usefulness to those who are as good 
 as we are, but whose chances are so much poorer 
 that they go wrong. Remember Michael, if any- 
 thing ever goes wrong, I am here of service to you, 
 and even if I can't help you, I can think things over 
 with you." 
 
 "I have no reason for ever keeping anything from 
 you, Mr. Liton," said Michael, and because he could 
 not express himself in words, Michael's eyes were 
 dimmed with tears. 
 
 The sound of happy voices came in on the breeze 
 and grew more distinguishable as the wagons came 
 nearer, until they could hear the strains of "Home, 
 Sweet Home." The wagon wheels, rattling up and 
 down the knobby roads and through the echoing 
 woods, brought the sleepy revelers to the gateway, 
 and the two rushed down to meet them.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ANOTHER TRAGEDY AT ABOLT 
 
 Dick Kennen, Sam Phelps, Louis Tifton, and 
 Manuel Rogers had prolonged their terms at Abolt 
 by attempting several escapes. After what they 
 termed as a dog's age of waiting for their parole, 
 on the very same day, each received a yellow piece 
 of paper, on which the Superintendent of Abolt 
 School claimed the honor to inform them that they 
 had earned their parole. 
 
 They were all four called into the office, where 
 they were surprised to find their parents waiting 
 for them with suit-cases in their hands. They were 
 ordered to put on the clothes that had been brought 
 to them in the suit-cases and to leave those they had 
 been wearing. It was an exciting bit of work and 
 was done joyously. 
 
 Mr. Krammer stood over the little door, on the 
 other side of which they were dressing, and watched. 
 It was one of the Superintendent's policies not to 
 allow a boy about to be paroled to see any of the 
 teachers or his fellow inmates before leaving, and 
 the boys had not been informed of having earned 
 their parole until they were brought into the office 
 and asked to change clothes. As it happened, a 
 slight oversight on his part, he was sending away a 
 completely organized clique. 
 
 Superintendent Krammer escorted them, together 
 with their parents, to the gate of the institution 
 grounds, shook hands with each of them, and 
 rattled off a formula regarding honesty and virtue, 
 which he had repeated so many times that it became
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 311 
 
 a matter for his second brain, and which they were 
 entirely too excited to hear, even if it would have 
 meant anything to them. 
 
 The parents, each thinking that his or her son 
 was the best of the lot and liable to be tainted by the 
 companionship of the others, tried to get them ofT 
 alone, and succeeded only after they had exchanged 
 their addresses. At home they continued the mis- 
 trust of their son's companions and warned them 
 against their having anything to do with each other. 
 But, aside from their friendship, born of a forced 
 fellowship in bitter surroundings, wrought into un- 
 breakable ties by common suffering, their neighbors' 
 sons looked upon them as stained boys and refused 
 to make friends with them. They soon found each 
 other and continued their former companionship. 
 
 It was a matter of two months. Dick and 
 Manuel were still without jobs, while Sam Phelps, 
 working at his acquired trade as a plumber's helper, 
 and Louis Tifton, employed as a clerk in a grocery 
 store, found themselves drudging away twelve hours 
 a day and half of Sunday, and contemplated relief. 
 One night, at ten o'clock, they met at a corner, 
 since not one of their homes was available for such 
 a meeting, and talked matters over; and there was 
 not a person to hold them back when they started 
 down a dark street with a definite purpose and plan. 
 Next morning they did not have to rise early and 
 prepare for work, but were called by a jail warden 
 and treated to a prison breakfast. The newspapers 
 informed the public that four boys, just released 
 from a reformatory, had broken into the closed home 
 of a principal who was away for the summer, and 
 looted it.
 
 312 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Not a thing was said about what forced them to 
 do it, nor what their purpose was; nor did any judge 
 look for that information. They had violated their 
 parole and were shipped back to Abolt and, without 
 formal or informal greetings, were incarcerated into 
 Father Bloate's Cottage One. 
 
 A year went by without much of importance 
 transpiring, and then it happened one day that Dick 
 and Sam were ordered to take several wheelbarrows, 
 full of ashes, from the kitchen to the other side of 
 the power house and dump ; and as they turned over 
 the fifth load, being protected by the power house 
 from an officer's guard, Dick sat down upon the 
 handles of the barrow and began to vituperate the 
 Colonel, with whom he had clashed on numerous 
 occasions during the week. The Colonel happened 
 to be talking to the engineer at the time, and catch- 
 ing the sound of boys' voices from their direction, 
 walked up to a window and looked out, heard what 
 they had to say, then turned, walked out, stole along 
 the wall, listened more, and when he thought he had 
 heard enough, suddenly jumped out upon them. 
 
 "Get up!" Colonel Reilly demanded of Dick, and 
 when Dick arose shivering with fright, the Colonel 
 struck him upon the mouth and knocked him down. 
 
 Dick cried, and his lips covered with blood, 
 showed the desire to fight back. Colonel Reilly 
 struck him again, then demanded that he take the 
 barrow and go about his work, which he could not 
 help but do. 
 
 At five o'clock that afternoon the boys were as- 
 sembled in the long dining room talking away as 
 noisily as ever. Father Bloate, who had been wait- 
 ing for an opportunity to speak to the Colonel pri- 
 vately, caught him alone in the vestibule.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 313 
 
 "Say," he whispered, "I think I have discovered 
 a plot. I think Kennen and a few others at my 
 cottage are going to try to escape to-night." 
 
 "Want me to lock 'em up?" 
 
 "I am not sure who the fellows are. I think a 
 few of them will try it." 
 
 "I'll watch with you to-night." 
 
 "Good." 
 
 The sun was setting beyond the great hill toward 
 the West, and some of the boys who looked in the 
 direction of the two towers said to themselves, "Mr. 
 Li ton is there.' 
 
 The late afternoon and evening caused the same 
 duties to be performed that had made part of the 
 routine since the institution was born, and its popu- 
 lation, like a distant race, lived, changed, and passed 
 away, and at ten o'clock the lights went out. 
 
 They waited until eleven, when everything was 
 quiet, then pulled out their Sunday suits, which had 
 been cleverly brought into the dormitories and 
 hidden under the mattresses, put them on, made 
 their ropes of sheets, and one after the other slid 
 down. Sam Phelps, the last of the four to get on the 
 window sill, heard Colonel Reilly and Father Bloate 
 glide out through the door and attack the three 
 already down, and saw how his comrades became 
 mad with fright and made use of the heavy sticks 
 they had hidden in the flower beds. He almost lost 
 his reason when he heard Dick's club come down 
 upon the Colonel's head with a crash that sent him 
 to the ground, and saw Father Bloate run for his 
 life; but there were no amends to make. The only 
 hope lay in escape, and they dashed for the woods.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A LIVING PLEA AND LIVING EVIDENCE 
 
 How often fate in weaving the thread of its 
 tragedies starts in a given circle of points; touches 
 them in all their acts; fastens its hold upon the 
 actors, and sends or drags them with burning enthu- 
 siasm or despair, time after time, over the same 
 beaten ways, to glory or to ruin. 
 
 The great railroad station was as noisy as ever, 
 and the many ants swarmed busily about the ant- 
 hill, for eternity was not yet ended. Another 
 crowd awaited another arrival of another train, and 
 again some rushed to meet those they expected to 
 see and others went on with familarity. 
 
 From the second car of that train three men 
 stepped down, and behind them, coming from the 
 fourth car, a man, a woman, and a young man fol- 
 lowed, and all were making for the dirty, gloomy 
 children's court. A trial was to be concluded. 
 
 This was not to be an exciting trial. There were 
 no accomplished murders to be tried, and no clever 
 manoeuvres — no disgusting beastliness to be re- 
 vealed. The crowd in attendance was therefore 
 small, and the newspapers were disinterested. Yet 
 four boys shivered under the sword of doom, and be- 
 fore them the gates of a prison were opened wide to 
 swallow them as soon as the formalities were over. 
 
 They stood huddled together on a little platform 
 and waited for proceedings to terminate in their 
 dreaded doom, though they had no definite ideas as 
 to just what that doom might be — they feared it,
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 315 
 
 because it was the unknown, nor stopped to think 
 that "use lessens marvel," that prison horrors grow 
 tame upon one and like opiates, become a necessity. 
 
 The horrified and dignified Mr. Krammer stood 
 not far away and stroked his significant beard, as 
 if the whole world had done his gentle soul an in- 
 justice. Near him stood the haughty Colonel Reilly, 
 his power and importance greatly injured by a 
 bandage about his head, and between the two, look- 
 ing small but important, winced the ideal cottage 
 father, Bloate, apparently anxious that prison justice 
 be meted out to them. 
 
 Then suddenly the counsel for the defense intro- 
 duced an interesting number of the programme, and 
 caused the eyes of the Superintendent of Abolt, the 
 man of over twenty years of experience to sparkle, 
 caused him to stroke more nervously his well- 
 groomed beard. 
 
 A young man, who knew that platform and that 
 bench through bitter experience, walked up the few 
 steps and faced the judge, the witnesses, and the 
 audience. 
 
 A silence followed for a few moments, and 
 Michael, adjusting himself nervously to the differ- 
 ence between this court and the one he was more 
 used to on Tower Hill, having been informed that 
 he is to tell his story from beginning to end, took a 
 deep breath and began: 
 
 "Your Honor, four years ago I stood on this plat- 
 form to answer to charges of stealing. That was 
 the fourth time that I had to answer to the same 
 charges, and some people said that it was in me to 
 steal and that I should be sent away.
 
 316 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I was living at the time in the city's slums, and 
 my widowed mother and consumptive brother 
 earned just enough to half feed themselves with poor 
 food. Outside of that they didn't even have half 
 enough to feed me with. I had to steal to get what 
 kept me alive. One of the defendants there, Dick 
 Kennen, another little fellow whom Abolt School 
 has reformed forever with the aid of death, and my- 
 self stole co-operatively. We would get what we 
 could and feed on it in the corner of a fenced-in 
 vacant lot some distance from our homes. 
 
 "I was sent to Abolt School to be reformed. Your 
 Honor, I know in my heart of hearts that we stole 
 because we were hungry, and for no other reasons. 
 From being hungry for mere bread one can rise 
 to possess a hunger for potatoes, and on up to such 
 things as satisfy the soul. 
 
 "On that vacant lot, Dick was the better boy of 
 the two of us. I grew bitter and hated everybody. 
 He always carried with him a little good nature, 
 and I wish to show the court that it was that very 
 good nature in him that makes him a defendant and 
 me his defender. 
 
 "I came to Abolt School. The first step in my 
 reformation was accomplished by the nurse that was 
 there at that time. Because I did not know any- 
 thing about saluting him, he gave me a dose of the 
 worst chemical combination that was ever invented 
 by a brutal mind, and he called it "Loafer's Mixture." 
 It made me very sick, not only in body but in mind. 
 I hated him with all the passionate hatred of which 
 I was capable. I was under his care for two weeks 
 and had it been two weeks more I should have been 
 brought here on charges of murder. After those
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 317 
 
 two weeks I was placed in a cottage with thirty-two 
 other boys, in charge of a cadet that was given the 
 authority to beat his fellow boys with a stick or kick 
 them whenever any of them did not obey him in- 
 stantly. Mr. Bloate himself would never talk to us 
 as if we were children, ordering us about as if we 
 were dogs; and after his day off he would come 
 back, drunk, and we then suffered indescribably." 
 
 The judge was resting his head on his right 
 hand, his elbow on his desk. The last sentence 
 startled him. He looked up at Superintendent 
 Krammer with the two men beside him and then 
 returned to his former position. 
 
 Michael went on : "Then, one day, for not dash- 
 ing to the wash basin just as quickly as he wanted 
 me to, Cottage Father Bloate struck me on the mouth 
 with his fist, cutting my lip and breaking one tooth. 
 I resented it and for doing so Mr. Reilly grabbed me 
 by the shoulder on coming into the dining room and 
 told me to sit down on the middle of the dining room 
 floor. I was ashamed to do so before three hundred 
 boys and my teachers, and for begging him not to 
 make me do that, Mr. Reilly dragged me out into the 
 vestibule, and there, with a heavy stick, beat me in- 
 sensible. 
 
 "When I awoke again, I found myself in one of 
 the coops, prison cells that they have, handcuffed 
 to a board, with every square inch of my body a 
 swollen wound. I still have the scars on my body 
 and will show them to the court if your honor wishes 
 me to." 
 
 The Judge made no answer and Michael went 
 on:
 
 318 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "I hated everybody, and there was not a soul that 
 I would have trusted. It was only when, in spite 
 of my sulky way of answering, Miss Britter spoke to 
 me kindly that she made me doubt my bitter con- 
 clusions and made me hope for some kind of relief. 
 
 "Instead of bothering my wounded heart with 
 arithmetic, Miss Britter told me the story of David 
 Copperfield, how he suffered so much and came out 
 victorious in the end, and let me read the book; and 
 for the first time in my life I began to feel that there 
 is a something in this world that was not against me 
 — something that is beautiful and worth fighting for. 
 
 "Then Mr. Liton came along and started a repub- 
 lic and made me a representative of a cottage. Like 
 Miss Britter, he took an interest in me because I was 
 bitter. Dick, who was by that time quite familiar 
 with the ways of Abolt School, was too good- 
 natured to rebel. He took matters as they were and 
 tried to be happy, and was therefore left to the mercy 
 of the institution. After I had worked with Mr. 
 Liton a number of weeks and he led me into discus- 
 sions and the writing of compositions for the maga- 
 zine, I began to see the visions of a new life and a 
 new world, and I determined to migrate there; but 
 the moment Mr. Liton and his friends left, the place 
 was turned into a hell, and all the flames that had 
 been lit within me, I had to put out myself. My life 
 for the next few months was unbearable, and young 
 as I was, I planned suicide. 
 
 "I was standing near the flag-pole one late after- 
 noon and saw the sun going down behind the old 
 monastery towers, and a thought came into my 
 mind. I resolved to escape that night and try to get
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 319 
 
 to those towers, for I knew that Mr. Liton had a 
 school of his own there. 
 
 "My plans were well made and I got away, and 
 as I vaguely hoped, Mr. Liton prevented their taking 
 me back. 
 
 "Your honor, had Dick been the hating spirit 
 that I was, some one would have interested himself 
 in him, and perhaps he would not be in this court 
 to-day. 
 
 "At Abolt, they always called us a Bunch of Little 
 Thieves, and I tell you that sentence falls heavily 
 upon any boyish heart, I don't care how bad people 
 think he is. It fell so heavily on mine that I hate 
 them for it yet, though Mr. Liton has taught me to 
 forgive. 
 
 "Just a few more words, your honor. I was 
 much worse than poor Dick ever was ; if he had had 
 half the chance I did, he would be a saint. I am no 
 saint, nor am I half an angel, but from the midst of 
 a hopeless Bunch of Little Thieves I have come to 
 be among the class of human beings who see that 
 some things are very wrong in this world, and who 
 are anxious to sacrifice their strength — yes, and even 
 their very lives — to help make that world better. 
 
 "I appeal to you to save these boys, who have 
 had no chance in this world, not on the day they 
 were born nor since, not even the late coming 
 cliance that I have gotten." 
 
 He stepped down and joined Mr. Liton. 
 
 "Dick Kennen, Sam Phelps, Manuel Rogers, and 
 Louis Tifton," called the judge, "stand up. You are 
 guilty of a grave offence, but. in view of the able 
 defence of your comrade, I will suspend your sen- 
 tence. You are to go with Mr. Liton and remain
 
 320 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 with him while you behave yourselves and no 
 longer. 
 
 "Your friend has made me feel that you have not 
 been given a chance. I will give you that chance 
 now. If years go by and you show that you can do 
 the right thing, your offence and your sentence will 
 be forgotten. 
 
 "This court stands adjourned."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ABOLT SCHOOL AND TOWER HILL 
 
 The four grateful young men were taken to 
 Tower Hill, fed, given a reception, and sent to work 
 with the others. They soon discovered that doing 
 the right thing, was not in formula alone, the most 
 profitable; that a much greater amount of pleasure 
 was to be gotten by doing what was right; and to 
 surpass their wildest dreams, instead of losing their 
 liberty as a sacrifice, they had fallen heir to all the 
 freedom any soul could desire. 
 
 Two weeks after the episode that brought them to 
 this veritable boys' heaven, an automobile drove up 
 on the grounds of Tower Hill. Three gentlemen 
 were in it and asked to see Mr. Liton. 
 
 They shook hands with him when he came from 
 the fields in his overalls, and asked whether they 
 could see the four boys whom the court had given 
 to his care. 
 
 "Julia," called Mr. Liton, and in response came 
 a little girl from the hallway. She was all excited 
 from having been running, and with a sweet girlish 
 expression on her face, after wiping off some of the 
 round beads of perspiration, wished to know what 
 he wanted. 
 
 "Will you, like a good girl, go to the cornfield 
 and tell Mr. Rolan to send the four new boys up 
 here at once?'' 
 
 Julia started off on a run. 
 
 "Do you trust them out to work alone?" asked 
 one of the gentlemen.
 
 322 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "Yes, sir, I make my home so dear to them that 
 you can't drive them away. I believe that that is 
 much safer than watching them. I have had no 
 escapes since I came here, almost four years ago." 
 
 The men expressed their admiration and asked 
 if they could look through the place. 
 
 "Certainly. You are welcome to see everything 
 that is here." 
 
 The four boys arrived, dressed in their overalls, 
 slightly worried as to what might follow. But they 
 were soon assured that nothing was going to happen, 
 and after the visitors had looked at them several 
 times and smiled and looked at each other, they 
 were sent back to work; and Mr. Liton took the men 
 through the house, barn, and shop. 
 
 "Mr. Liton," began one of the men, when they 
 had seen all they wanted to, "we are the new board 
 of directors of Abolt School, and we have come here 
 to ask you to accept Mr. Krammer's position. Mr. 
 Krammer and all of his help that you may wish to 
 get rid of, will go as soon as you can come and fill 
 the positions that will be made vacant," 
 
 Mr. Liton smiled. 
 
 "That wouldn't mean that you would have to let 
 this school go at all. With an automobile you can 
 go from one to the other in a few minutes." 
 
 Through Mr. Liton's mind flashed a succession 
 of beloved pictures. He could see the miniature 
 plateau, the concrete cottages in the moonlight, or 
 in a rain storm, the lawns, the gravel walks, with 
 their whitewashed stones, the farm, the roads, the 
 valleys, and the ruins of the dilapidated old house 
 upon which one could rebuild.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 323 
 
 "Are you willing to accept that position?" 
 
 "You say I can substitute the kind of teachers I 
 want for the kind that are there, if after seeing them, 
 I deem that necessary?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "You will be willing to pay good salaries that 
 will attract good teachers?" 
 
 "As far as we are able." 
 
 "And you will let me get at those boys in what- 
 ever way I please and think necessary, if, at least, 
 I convince vou that that wav is best?" 
 
 "If we didn't have confidence in your methods we 
 never should have come here." 
 
 "Then I accept." 
 
 "When can you begin?" 
 
 "In two weeks." 
 
 "Good, we shall come for you." 
 
 They shook hands again very cordially, and the 
 automobile took the road to Abolt and disappeared. 
 
 "Miss Britter," cried Mr. Liton when he was alone 
 again. 
 
 "Who were they?" 
 
 "Miss Britter, you are speaking to no less a per- 
 sonage than the Superintendent of Abolt School, and 
 I have the honor of addressing his Assistant." 
 
 "Julia, you run to the cornfield again and call 
 Mr. Rolan and Michael, and the rest of the boys. 
 W 7 ait a minute, ring the bell a long time first; that 
 will call all of them." 
 
 "Michael," he cried, as soon as the latter arrived, 
 "I am to be the Superintendent of Abolt School." 
 
 Michael did not know what to make of it. 
 
 "Now tell me, which would you rather be, a 
 teacher in the Adirondacks or a cottage father with
 
 324 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 Marguerite as the cottage mother, at Abolt School?" 
 
 "The newcomer's cottage," cried Michael, beside 
 himself with joy, "don't forget." 
 
 Mr. Rolan, followed by his boys, and Mr. Atkins 
 and his boys, came upon the hill top to join the 
 crowd, and Mother Atkins and the rest of the girls, 
 hearing the racket, with dishes in their hands, 
 rushed out and completed the family gathering. 
 
 "Children," said Mr. Liton, slowly, "I have been 
 asked to be the Superintendent of Abolt School." 
 
 Mr. Rolan pulled the broad-brimmed farmer's hat 
 off his head and waving it in the air, cried, "Gome, 
 everybody, three cheers for Abolt and its Bunch of 
 Little Thieves!" 
 
 And, as the sun lowered down in the West, and 
 the boys at Abolt were looking at it, and the two 
 towers in back of which it sank, the cheers that 
 followed shook the whole world, if what the little 
 fellows about Mr. Liton said were true; and of all 
 who cheered the four newcomers were the loudest. 
 
 END
 
 AFTERWORD 
 
 "So when they continued asking him, 
 he lifted up himself, and said unto them, 
 He that is without sin among you, let him 
 first cast a stone at her. 
 
 "And they which heard it, being con- 
 victed by their own conscience, went out 
 one by one, beginning at the eldest even 
 unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, 
 and the woman standing in the midst. 
 
 "When Jesus had lifted up himself, and 
 saw none but the woman, he said unto her, 
 woman, where are those thine accusers? 
 hath no man condemned- thee? 
 
 "She said no man, Lord, and Jesus said 
 unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go 
 and sin no more." 
 
 "A study of the homes and families of these 
 children shows much more clearly than any tables 
 of statistics how easily poverty in itself brings these 
 children to the court. It is not merely by such di- 
 rect means as stealing fuel from the tracks, or sleep- 
 ing under a house to escape the discomforts of an 
 over crowded home, that poverty brings its children 
 into court. When we see all the wide background 
 of deprivation in their lives, the longing for a little 
 money to spend, for the delights of a nickel theatre, 
 for the joy of owning a pigeon, or for the glowing 
 adventure of a ride on the train, it is not hard to 
 understand how the simple fact of being poor is 
 many times a sufficient explanation of delinquency." 
 —Breckinridge and Abbott, in "The Delinquent Child 
 and the Home."
 
 326 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "The delinquent commits almost all kinds of of- 
 fenses, but most of them are comparatively trivial 
 and the rest largely indicate environmental source. 
 Not more than 6 per cent, indicate abnormality. 
 Probably not more than 1 or 2 per cent, of them are 
 the actions of children criminal by nature." — Dr. 
 Thomas Travis, in the "Young Malefactor." 
 
 "A really inferior child, an inherently vicious or 
 imbecile child, or one who could not be much im- 
 proved by better food and hygienic surroundings is 
 a very rare exception." — Hrdlicka, 47th Report of the 
 N. Y. J. A. 
 
 "If once in a while they act more like little devils, 
 the opportunities we have afforded them, as I have 
 tried to show, hardly give us the right to reproach 
 them. And yet, looking the hundreds of boys in the 
 Juvenile Asylum over, all of whom were supposed 
 to be there because they were bad (though as I had 
 occasion to ascertain, that was a mistake — it was 
 the parents who were bad in some cases), I was 
 struck by the fact that they were anything but a 
 depraved lot." — Mr. Jacob A. Riis, in "Children of 
 the Poor." 
 
 "The majority of criminals are not born, but 
 made — and ill made. They can be remade as easily 
 as the 'River Front Gang' was remade if we would 
 use the methods of Christianity on them and not 
 those of a fiendish paganism that exacts 'an eye for 
 an eye' and exacts it in a spirit of revenge." — Judge 
 Ben Lindsey, in the "Beast." 
 
 "And yet the boy murderers are of the same clay 
 as the rest of us, but environment has moulded it 
 differently, that's all." — New York City Asst. Dis- 
 trict Attorney Frank Moss.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 327 
 
 "He is a victim of environment that is breeding 
 social disease to which the community shuts its 
 eyes. Deprived of opportunity for normal develop- 
 ment, he becomes a criminal without knowing it." 
 — Ernest K. Coulter, Clerk of the New York Chil- 
 dren's Court. 
 
 "Investigation of the lives of reform-school boys 
 always leaves the impression that, with possibly 
 few exceptions, they are quite representative of the 
 average active, normal boy, and the investigator 
 usually ends his work with the overwhelming con- 
 viction that, after all, probably the only reason why 
 he and his boyhood associates did not graduate from 
 the same sort of an institution was the difference in 
 their environment." — Professor Edgar James Swift, 
 in "Mind in the Making." 
 
 Professor Swift then goes on telling of a most in- 
 teresting questionnaire which was sent to a large 
 number of teachers, lawyers, students, merchants, 
 and ministers asking them (in effect) whether in 
 their childhood they had committed any of the var- 
 ious crimes for which children fill the reforma- 
 tories. It is impossible to quote more than a very 
 small fraction of the answers received. We will 
 just quote a few and hope that the reader will refer 
 to Professor Swift's "Mind in the Making" for the 
 rest, 
 
 He says in part: "The most serious offense with 
 which the questionnaire dealt was stealing money. 
 The subject was divided into two parts, taking 
 money from parents and employers. 
 
 "About one-fourth of the teachers said that tak- 
 ing money from their parents was a more or less 
 common occurrence. One-half of the students and
 
 328 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 about two-thirds of the miscellaneous group made 
 the same admission. A good number had no chance 
 but are sure that they would not have hesitated had 
 opportunity offered. 
 
 "I stole money in small amounts, usually fifty 
 cents at a time, from the cash drawer of my father's 
 store whenever I wanted it. (Teacher.) 
 
 "I used to keep part of the change when I was 
 given money to buy things for the family. I saved 
 up twelve dollars in this way to redeem a pledge 
 for the payment of a bill about which my parents 
 knew nothing. (Student.) 
 
 "I took money whenever chance offered. (Stu- 
 dent.) 
 
 "Once I took as much as five dollars. (Teacher.) 
 
 "I took as much money as I thought would not 
 be missed, usually fifty cents or a dollar. Once 
 or twice I took larger sums, according to what I 
 wanted to get with it. (Merchant.) 
 
 "When a close-fisted employer refused to let me 
 have my clothes at cost, I pocketed enough of his 
 change to bring my clothes down to cost mark. 
 (Student.) 
 
 "I appropriated to my own use, without paying 
 for them, toilet articles and other things. (Minister; 
 at time referred to, he was employed in a drug- 
 store.) " 
 
 The great difficulty in the reformation of the "bad 
 boy" is the overcoming of the ignorance, corruption, 
 and immorality that often festers in the institution 
 management, The reader is referred to the occa- 
 sional expose of such institutions in the newspapers 
 — occasional only because iniquity wears armor, 
 burrows in the dark, and looks pure and virtuous 
 by daylight.
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 329 
 
 "I found thai sonic of the police were guilty of 
 cruelties to the boys, used language to them that is 
 unreportable, and unconsciously taught the boys 
 to hate the law and look upon us all as their ene- 
 mies. Several boys complained to me that they had 
 been beaten by the jailer, and I found on investiga- 
 tion that they had; and prisoners that had seen them 
 beaten testified to it. 
 
 " He declared that the boys were liars, 
 
 that I was 'crazy' and that conditions in the jails 
 were as good as they could be. This reply was 
 exactly what we wished. I demanded an investiga- 
 tion. The board prefessed to be willing but set no 
 date. We promptly set one for them — the follow- 
 ing Thursday at two o'clock in my chambers at the 
 Court House — and I invited to the hearing Governor 
 Peabody, Mayor Wright, fifteen prominent ministers 
 in the city, the Police Board and some members of 
 the City Council. 
 
 "On Thursday morning — to my horror — I learned 
 from a friendly Deputy Sheriff that the subpoenas 
 I had ordered sent to a number of boys whom I 
 knew as jail victims had not been served. I had 
 no witnesses. And in three hours the hearing was 
 to begin." — Judge Ben Lindsey in the "Beast." 
 
 "The State is often as incompetent as the worst 
 parents in its dealings with the young offender. 
 This when we remember that some parents train 
 their children to crime seems like rhetorical lan- 
 guage. But many of the men most closely in touch 
 with correctional methods will agree to the state- 
 ment that the State is manufacturing criminals as 
 fast as it can with its limitations. 
 
 "In the police court it is no uncommon sight to 
 see the court room so crowded with children that 
 there is not enough time to finish their cases that
 
 330 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 day. Yet this is attempted. In five minutes the de- 
 cision is made which starts the child on a new 
 career. The writer has seen over eighty cases of 
 children decided by a judge in one session of the 
 court lasting from 9 A. M. to 2 P. M. No careful 
 student would think of classifying a case in ten 
 minutes, and yet this judge decides the fate of a 
 boy's whole existence and does it in less time and 
 attention than the ordinary woman takes to buy a 
 roll of wall paper. 
 
 "In case a boy is sent to a 'reformatory' it is 
 largely chance if his lot falls in a really good en- 
 vironment. No matter how well equipped such an 
 institution may be and no matter how well inten- 
 tioned the superintendent, if that overseer has not a 
 personality amounting to genius the reformatory 
 will be a vast machine which, though it permanently 
 cure 50 per cent, of those who ought not to be there, 
 will unfailingly brand and deepen the rest in delin- 
 quent life. 
 
 "In every correctional and eleemosynary insti- 
 tution belonging to the state, from the children's 
 court up, the unfortunate influence of mercenary 
 politics is seen. Incompetent officials are put in 
 power. Wardens who are ignorant of their duties 
 are put over hundreds of convicts. Grace Johnson 
 reports politics as endangering the promising work 
 of the state agent of Minnesota. Evan a chaplain 
 can not be chosen without the interference of poli- 
 tics. Governor Odell is accused of attempting to put 
 the reformatory at Elmira at the mercy of 'plum 
 seekers.' Fetter at Cornell gives a list of such cases 
 and cites as an example a commissioner of charities 
 with no previous training appointed as a reward for 
 political services. The same was attempted in Brook- 
 lyn and the judge was so bound by politics that he 
 had to appoint the office seeker to draw the salary
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 331 
 
 and a philanthropic person to do the work." — Dr. 
 Thomas Travis in the "Young Malefactor." 
 
 The following quotations are from The New York 
 Call of Dec. 30, 1911. The writer possesses a copy 
 of the article, which was an expose of the conditions 
 in a "well kept" reformatory. A copy of the article, 
 together with affidavits testifying to its veracity, is 
 also on file at the office of a state board of charities. 
 This article consists of four long columns of charges, 
 and is too long to reproduce in full here. 
 
 "BOYS BEATEN AND KICKED.— 'The cries of 
 the boys still rings in my ears,' one of the women 
 
 who resigned told a reporter yesterday. 
 
 'Scarcely a morning passed without one or more 
 beatings, administered with rubber hose or bamboo 
 sticks, by the superintendent or his assistant, Mr. 
 and Mr. . 
 
 " 'There was the case of I 
 
 shall not give you his name because his parents are 
 even now ignorant of the cruelties which the boy 
 has endured. He had been unruly for some reason 
 
 and dragged him down to the basement 
 
 and beat him until the boy's shrieks rang through 
 the whole building. Fearing that the boy might be 
 
 beaten to death, 's wife rushed down and, 
 
 throwing herself on her knees begged him to stop. 
 Finally his wife threw herself upon him and by 
 pinioning his arms forced him to stop. 
 
 " 'The boy complained to the superintendent. He 
 was sent to the coop, a cheerless attic room where, 
 handcuffed, he lay on the bare mattress on the floor 
 until released. He promptly ran away,' " etc. 
 
 "It is also charged that the new and well equipped 
 hospital was ostentatiously kept empty, although 
 there were always boys in need of hospital treat- 
 ment; this in order to impress visitors with the ex-
 
 332 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 tremely healthy condition of the school. The boys 
 who should have been confined there were in the 
 meantime dosed in the basement of one of the cot- 
 tages, where a nurse ran a so-called dispensary. The 
 teachers unite in attributing at least one case of 
 death to this neglect. 
 
 ; 'On November 6,' said a teacher, 'a boy of 
 
 eleven, by name of was brought 
 
 to the office by his father, who was visiting him 
 that day, and who requested that the child be sent 
 to the nurse for treatment, as he appeared to be 
 feverish and complained of pains in the chest. I 
 promised to inform the assistant superintendent. 
 This official gruffly instructed me to send the boy 
 to drill, as usual, after which he would be attended 
 to. It was bitter cold that day and the boy protest- 
 ed that he hadn't the strength to carry the gun, so I 
 appealed for him again, backing it up with an ap- 
 peal from the cottage father, all without avail, how- 
 ever. The boy was compelled to go through the en- 
 tire drill. That night the child's fever rose so high 
 that on my own responsibility I called a physician. 
 He reported that it was merely a slight cold. The 
 next day the fever showed no signs of abatement 
 and the male nurse was called upon to attend to him. 
 Several times when I entered the attic where he was 
 confined I heard his shrieks, "Oh, don't hit me. I 
 can't carry that gun." The nurse remained utterly 
 unmoved by the child's suffering.' 
 
 " 'This lasted for two days, the boy remaining 
 neglected in the attic of a cottage, while the bright, 
 well-equipped hospital stood conspicuously empty. 
 But when it became evident that the child was sink- 
 ing rapidly, he was removed to the hospital and his 
 parents called from the city. They came in time 
 to witness his death struggles. The mother went 
 stark mad.'
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 333 
 
 {i But perhaps the worst feature of the institution, 
 according to the statements of several of the teach- 
 ers who resigned, is that Superintendent 
 
 retains as attendants men and women known to be 
 immoral and exercising a corrupting influence on 
 the boys." 
 
 The following quotations from an article in the 
 Philadelphia Times of February 20, 1913, give an 
 account of an expose of a similar institution. 
 
 THREE RESIGN AS PROTEST 
 Dr. , resident physician at the 
 
 Schools, his wife, head nurse at the institution, 
 and her assistant have resigned from their respective 
 positions at that institution, because of the failure 
 
 of Superintendent ■■ to carry out medical 
 
 orders or recommendations. 
 
 The triple resignation came after sensational 
 charges of cruelty to the boy inmates of the schools 
 
 made by , of street, 
 
 father of the lad released by the officials of the insti- 
 tution after a fight lasting several months. 
 
 The boy's right foot is flat and his right leg 
 is apparently shorter than the left. When he entered 
 the hospital on June 24 he was physically sound. In 
 fact he had previously won a marathon race from 
 
 avenue to for boys under 16 
 
 years of age. It would be torture for the lad to 
 run a yard at present. 
 
 He is unable to walk up steps without grasping 
 
 a railing and literally pulling himself up. Dr. 
 
 , 's father and mother and his playmates 
 
 at the school are authority for the statement that 
 when he entered the hospital there on October 11, 
 1912, to undergo an operation for appendicitis he 
 was not lame. Dr. * further says that when
 
 334 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 the boy was discharged from the hospital, December 
 11 or 12, 1912, he was not lame. 
 
 VICIOUS BRUTALITY CHARGED.— On January 
 3, 1913, according to the boy, he was kicked in the 
 
 spine by , an official at . 
 
 He fell to the ground and was unable to rise. He 
 
 says stood by and laughed at him. Later 
 
 Dr. 's daughter called the physician's at- 
 tention to the fact that the boy had a pronounced 
 limp. The boy says he limped from the time he was 
 kicked by . 
 
 Prior to this, the day after 's release from 
 
 the hospital, and while still in a convalescent con- 
 dition, he says that , instructor in tail- 
 oring, struck him in the head, grabbed him by the 
 ear and threw him to the ground, at the same time 
 punching him in the side over the scar left by the 
 appendicitis operation. While the boy was on the 
 
 ground, he says, kicked him twice in the 
 
 back. 
 
 The resignations of Dr. and Mrs. and 
 
 Miss and the release of the boy were 
 
 preceded by a secret meeting of certain members 
 of the committee on admission, indentures and pro- 
 bation. The members present were , 
 
 president of the schools; , 
 
 , and . 
 
 ********* 
 
 Mr. says that the "monitor" of trustie sys- 
 tem used at is responsible for many of the 
 
 numerous injuries to inmates. Under this system 
 he declares boys have been so badly beaten that they 
 have become insane. He says there is one boy at 
 
 least in the Asylum as the result of beatings, 
 
 and another in an asylum at — ■ . 
 
 The boy now at the Hospital for the Insane 
 
 at - , according to -^^^^Js named . When 
 
 lie was admitted to -, — - says he had
 
 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 335 
 
 eczema. A boy named is the one sent to the 
 
 Insane Asylum, asserts. , 
 
 a monitor in cottage No. 12, caused the injury which 
 made insane, according to , by strik- 
 ing him in the head. says has stabbed 
 
 another boy and is greatly feared by the lads in less 
 
 favor with the officials. 
 
 ********* 
 
 When called, Dr. submitted his hospital 
 
 records, which show that boys were brought to him 
 with blackened and swollen arms, resulting from 
 prolonged exercise. This is known as the "pumping 
 punishment," according to young . 
 
 The records also show cases of boys being 
 stabbed and others being beaten, while during the 
 
 two years and a half Dr. was in charge of 
 
 the hospital at the institution there were nine at- 
 tempts at suicide. Mrs. , the physician's wife, 
 
 who was head nurse, told of finding one boy hang- 
 ing by a bed sheet tied about his neck. She also 
 told of cases of frozen feet due to boys having been 
 forced to scrub the basement in cold weather with- 
 out shoes. 
 
 The physician was not questioned as to numer- 
 ous other cases of alleged cruelty which came under 
 his notice, among them injuries resulting from 
 beatings, partial starvation and undue punishment, 
 
 "Truth is often stranger than fiction." In telling 
 what has been or might be accomplished in the 
 reformation of delinquents the truth seems so 
 strange to most of us that we hesitate in believing 
 it. Yet all who have made a genuine attempt have 
 the same strange tales to tell. As time goes on and 
 civilization becomes less of a sham, these strange 
 tales will become more numerous and finally so 
 numerous that they will lose their strangeness.
 
 336 A BUNCH OF LITTLE THIEVES 
 
 "When I first told one of our deputy sheriffs that 
 in the future I should send boys to Golden without 
 him, he said to my clerk : 'Well, I've always heard 
 Lindsey was crazy, but I never believed it till to-day!' 
 And when a hardened young criminal went, from 
 my court, 250 miles to Buena Vista reformatory 
 alone, and presented himself at the gates of the 
 prison, 'the sentry' (as I was afterwards told) 'al- 
 most fell off the walls.' " — Judge Ben Lindsey in the 
 "Beast." 
 
 Of all the strange tales that might be told here, 
 the life of Owen Kildare as told by himself in "My 
 Mamie Rose," is perhaps the strangest as well as 
 most illuminating. Bereft by environment of par- 
 ents and all the influences for good in the lives of 
 other children, he was born to a life on the Bowery. 
 He became a skilful thief, a loafer, idling around sa- 
 loons and dives, and a prize-fighter. His habits, 
 thoughts and desires, were the habits, thoughts ana 
 desires of the very lowest stratum of society. And 
 yet, a few kind words from the lips of a little girl, 
 a school teacher in his neighborhood, whom he had 
 suddenly taken the notion to defend from the abuse 
 of his comrades, fell upon him with a most irre- 
 sistible force and finally led him to a place among 
 the very highest members of his race. 
 
 "No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep 
 But yet might rise and be again a man."
 
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