Free The Alley by Eleanor Estes Page A

seeing Connie and me coming back from the A. & P. They might not even have gotten upstairs at all. I was just scared to go in until the police checked to make sure it was safe. How do I know whether or not those men were burglars or alumni?"
    "You're right," said Mrs. Stuart, who was very crisp and decided. "They've been up there for ages—now that you speak of it."
    "Let's go in," said Mama. "Connie, you wait out here with Wagsie."
    But at this moment, another police car came screaming into the street, stopped with a screech, and two more policemen arrived. They, too, wanted to know what the trouble was. Mama said that her house had been burglarized, that there were already two policemen inside looking for possible left-in burglars, that they had been in there for a long time, and that she didn't understand why they had not come out yet. Would the two new policemen go down into the cellar and see if there were any burglars hiding down there; because the two first policemen had certainly never gone down there—they had not even finished casing the upstairs. Was that such a lengthy thing to do, she asked?
    The two new policemen did not say a word. Looking melancholy, they went into the house and back to the kitchen, and could be heard, soon, clumping down the cellar steps. They didn't wave their pistols around and say, "We've got you covered, rat."
    "They are probably disappointed they were not the first policemen here," thought Connie.
    "Well, we might as well go in, too," said Mama. "Quite a party there now," she said. So she and Mrs. Stuart went into the burglarized house, being by this time completely nonplused about the two quiet first policemen. The whole house was quiet.
    "Can you imagine"—Connie rehearsed what she would say to Billy—"going into your own house—it burglarized, and with two policemen in it, you know not where? And with two other policemen down in the cellar?"
    However, the minute Mama and Mrs. Stuart stepped inside and started up the stairs, the two policemen, the
first
two, hearing them coming, started down the stairs. They were muttering to each other saying, "Ts, ts, it's terrible." And halfway down the stairs, they and Mama met. One policeman said, "Ah, lady. They sure ransacked your house." "Ransacked it," echoed the other. "They sure gave your house the works from top to bottom," one said. "Yes—everything is a mess—" said the other. "Bureau drawers—ts. They left no stone unturned."
    Mama was surprised. She couldn't believe it. She really thought that the burglars, seeing her and Connie coming home, had been interrupted at the very beginning of their work. But, being so scared of burglars—as who isn't? It's not cowardly to be scared of burglars; it's common sense!—she had not wanted to go inside the house until she was absolutely certain they had left. For a moment, she stared unbelievingly at the two policemen. Then she gasped, "Oh! My ring! My diamond ring!"
    Usually Mama wore her diamond ring. But she had been planning to have it made a little larger. It was getting tight for her finger—or rather, her finger was getting a little too large for her ring. She had asked Papa to put the ring in a safe place—'til she could get to town—and he had. At least, he
thought
he had put it in a safe place. He had put it on the clip of a pencil, in its brand-new little pencil case, that some of his staff had given him for Christmas. And this—the pencil with the ring on its clip and in its case—he had put in one of the little drawers of his wardrobe, the drawer he kept his socks in, and also some ancestral jewelry.
    Imagine! Only last night, Mama had said to Papa, "Where have you put my diamond ring, John? I feel funny without it on and not even knowing where it is. I have lost two pounds, and maybe it will fit my finger again now, and I won't have to have it enlarged." Papa showed her the ring. He showed her her diamond ring where it was on the little pencil in his wardrobe in his