"Yes, indeed," replied Victor. "We are extremely and tremendously
wicked. Perhaps in all the world you could not find three men more
wicked than those who now stand before you."
"'Tis so," said the fat man, approvingly.
"But you shouldn't be so wicked," said the girl;
"it's--it's--naughty!"
Victor cast down his eyes and blushed.
"Naughty!" gasped Beni, with a horrified look.
"'Tis a hard word," said Luigi, sadly, and buried his face in his
hands.
"I little thought," murmured Victor, in a voice broken by emotion,
"ever to be so reviled--and by a lady! Yet, perhaps you spoke
thoughtlessly. You must consider, miss, that our wickedness has an
excuse. For how are we to be bandits, let me ask, unless we are
wicked?"
Martha was puzzled and shook her head, thoughtfully. Then she
remembered something.
"You can't remain bandits any longer," said she, "because you are
now in America."
"America!" cried the three, together.
"Certainly. You are on Prairie avenue, in Chicago. Uncle Walter sent
you here from Italy in this chest."
The bandits seemed greatly bewildered by this announcement. Lugui
sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker and wiped his forehead
with a yellow silk handkerchief.
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