The Grave Robber's Secret by Anna Myers Page A

the street, he waited. Finally he saw Burke, wearing his stovepipe hat and swinging his walking stick. Robby waited until he passed before he slipped from the stoop and began to follow.
    For a time, he moved very slowly, but when Burke turned the corner, Robby ran after him. There were other people on the streets now, and Robby stayed back, his eyes straining for a glimpse of Burke’s big hat. Twice he lost sight of him, but both times he rounded a corner to see him again in the distance.
    The man walked briskly, a destination clearly in mind. In front of a large tavern, he stopped, adjusted his fancy black jacket, and went inside. Robby was amazed. Was this where Burke spent his days? He had never detected the smell of strong drink on the man.
    After a few minutes Robby eased the door open. At first, he could not see into the dark room, but gradually the view became plain. Some men sat at a long bar with a few others at tables scattered about the room. There was no sign of William Burke. Growing braver, Robby stepped just inside for another look. No one seemed to notice him, and he continued to search the room with his eyes. No Burke in sight. Then he saw a door in the back wall. Burke must have gone through that door. Robby backed quickly from the room.
    Outside he went to the side of the building. To his delight, a tree grew by a window. He had noticed no window in that side of the tavern. This had to be a window in the backroom. Grasping the lowest branch, Robby swung his legs up to lock around the tree. In no time, he rested comfortably on the second bough, directly beside the open window. Carefully, he stretched his body on the limb, giving himself the perfect view. A strong light came from a lantern inside, and Robby, shaded as he was from the sun, could plainly see William Burke. He sat at a round table with three other men. His top hat and long jacket hung from a nearby rack. His walking stick leaned against the table and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled an inch or so below his elbows. All of the other men had drinks beside them or in their hands. William Burke had none. All four had wallets, and Robby watched as they removed bills and placed them in the center of the table. Burke rolled a pair of dice. “Come seven or eleven!” he called.
    Robby had seen enough. He slipped to the lower branch of the tree, then dropped to the ground. Burke spent his days gambling. Robby knew he should be totally relieved. He supposed many of those same places had a back room to hide gambling, since he had never seen anyone doing it in the taverns where he had often gone to help his father get home. Gambling was probably against the law, but was it worse than robbing a grave? He would need to tell Martha, and he knew he should apologize for being suspicious, but he wasn’t sure he could. Besides, what about the name on the walking stick? Martha was keeping secrets from him. Hadn’t he told her about Da’s cruelty and even about Lolly? Then again, Martha didn’t know about the grave robbing. Maybe people were entitled to their secrets.
    He took his time walking to the hospital as the thought of what he had seen swam through his mind. It was a nice morning, warmer even than the day before. Spring had definitely come to Philadelphia. On one corner an organ grinder played on his hurdy-gurdy while his monkey held a hat to collect coins. Down the street, a girl sold pretty red and white flowers. When he had earned some money at the medical school, he would buy flowers for his little sister’s grave. Then a chill seemed to pass over him. He wondered if he could ever go back to that cemetery where Lolly lay and where he had climbed into graves to steal bodies. He’d best quit worrying about William Burke and his activities. If the Burkes should leave the boardinghouse, Robby would be back to the graves. He would apologize to Martha for speaking rudely to her.
    He was surprised to find the thick