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"Who?" said David. "I'm all right. What's the matter?" "The burglar!" said Mother excitedly. "He put his head in the window and said 'pssssst!" "I tell you, burglars don't say pssssst!" Dad said. "They try to make as little noise as possible. Just let me catch him doing it again!" he added, waving his pistol.
And he was a little nervous himself now about that burglar. What if he should meet him when he went out again? He tried to forget about that by thinking of what he would put in the note for the Phoenix. He had got as far as "Dear Phoenix:" and was wondering how you spelled "Phoenix," when there came a swish and a thump at his window, followed by a cautious whisper: "Pssssst!"
It was not my desire to the police, did you say? Have they discovered any clues?" "No," said David reassuringly. "They can't find a thing. They think the Whispering Burglar climbed up a ladder to say pssssst! into the upstairs windows. Only they can't find the ladder. They call it the 'Missing Mystery Clue." The Phoenix gazed at the sky and mused. "In all the papers, you say?
I had to pick one at random. I thrust my head in a window and uttered a cautious pssssst! Imagine my dismay when I was answered by a piercing scream! I had to beat a hasty and undignified retreat into a garage until all was peaceful again. Then I did the same thing at the next house, and the next, with the same results." The Phoenix sighed.
With a hasty "Farewell, my boy," the Phoenix plunged headlong toward the window and tripped over the sill. There was a resounding crash outside as the bird landed on the rose arbor, a brief but furious thrashing and muttering, and then the receding flurry of wings. "He stuck his head in the window and said pssssst! at me!" David cried. "A big dark shape in the window!"
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