house they discovered a
large barometer hanging on the wall behind the front door: it had been
overlooked by those who removed the furniture. Before returning the
key to the agent, Rushton sent one of his men to the house for the
barometer, which he kept in his office for a few weeks to see if there
would be any inquiries about it. If there had been, it would have been
easy to say that he had brought it there for safety--to take care of
till he could find the owner. The people to whom it belonged thought
the thing had been lost or stolen in transit, and afterwards one of the
workmen who had assisted to pack and remove the furniture was dismissed
from his employment on suspicion of having had something to do with its
disappearance. No one ever thought of Rushton in connection with the
matter, so after about a month he had it taken to his own dwelling and
hung up in the hall near the carved oak marble-topped console table
that he had sneaked last summer from 596 Grand Parade.

And there it hangs unto this day: and close behind it, supported by
cords of crimson silk, is a beautiful bevelled-edged card about a foot
square, and upon this card is written, in letters of gold: 'Christ is
the head of this house; the unseen Guest at every meal, the silent
Listener to every conversation.'

And on the other side of the barometer is another card of the same kind
and size which says: 'As for me and my house we will serve the Lord.'

From another place they stole two large brass chandeliers. This house
had been empty for a very long time, and its owner--who did not reside
in the town--wished to sell it. The agent, to improve the chances of a
sale, decided to have the house overhauled and redecorated. Rushton &
Co.'s tender being the lowest, they got the work. The chandeliers in
the drawing-room and the dining-room were of massive brass, but they
were all blackened and tarnished. Misery suggested to the agent that
they could be cleaned and relacquered, which would make them equal to
new: in fact, they would be better than new ones, for such things as
these were not made now, and for once Misery was telling the truth.
The agent agreed and the work was done: it was an extra, of course, and
as the firm got twice as much for the job as they paid for having it
done, they were almost satisfied.

When this and all the other work was finished they sent in their
account and were paid.

Some months afterwards the house was sold, a