I
properly reasoned that if a burglar tried to shoot me while I was
rushing around the house after him in the darkness, a suit of
black pajamas would somewhat spoil his aim, and, not being able
to see me, he would not shoot at all. In this way I should save
Sarah the nerve shock that would follow the explosion of a pistol
in the house. For Sarah was very much more afraid of pistols than
of burglars. I am sure there were only two reasons why I had
never killed a burglar with a pistol: one was that no burglar had
ever entered our flat, and the other was that I never had a
pistol.
But I knew that one is much less protected in a suburb than in
town, and when I decided to build I studied the burglar
protection matter most carefully. I said nothing to Sarah about
it, for fear it would upset her nerves, but for months I
considered every method that seemed to have any merit, and that
would avoid getting a burglar's blood--or mine--spattered around
on our new furnishings. I desired some method by which I could
finish up a burglar properly without having to leave my bed, for
although Sarah is brave enough in sending me out of bed to catch
a burglar, I knew she must suffer severe nerve strain during the
time I was wandering about in the dark.
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