Fifteen years ago Horace had served his first and only time in prison for stealing jewels. The minister at the prison had liked Horace—everyone did—and had tried to help him toward an honest way of life. But Horace did not want to become honest; he only wanted to make sure that his dishonesty never got him into trouble again.
Horace hated prison. He hated the food, the lack of exercise, the ugly worn-out books in the prison library. Horace loved rare, expensive books; this was the reason he robbed a safe every year. Each year he planned carefully just what he would do, stole enough to last for twelve months, and secretly bought the books he loved through an agent.