Reading skills are very important. Experts estimate that it is possible for any normal adult English speaker to read 1,000 words a minute and more, with special training. Yet most students read only about 300 words per minute. The following principles might be helpful for foreign students who wish io increase their reading skills:◊Always read faster than is comfortable. The faster your normal rate of reading becomes, the better your understanding will be.◊Keep reading ahead. Do not allow yourself to regress while reading, even when you come across a new word. If some word, term or phrase has clouded your understanding, you should reread it only after you have read the entire paragraph through once.◊Read selectively. As you read make a conscious effort to screen the nouns, pronouns, and verbs from the other words, since these are the words that give meaning to what you have read. In effect, you should really read the nouns, pronouns and verbs and merely see the rest of the words in the sentence.◊Read beyond the lines. As a good reader, you should see ideas implied through the words, and bridge the gap between the obvious and the suggested, thus obtaining much more information.Because the reading assignments in most college courses are very long, students should plan to read every day. If, however, they find that they cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning, they should not panic. Instead, they should ask their classmates how much they are reading and attempt to learn from them what to read first and what to postpone until a later date.Because much of the past learning experience of foreign students may have been for the purpose of passing examinations, they might be inclined to put off studying until late in the term. Such behavior can result in failure in the US system, where assignments must be completed on time and done regularly each day.With special training, a normal adult English speaker may read ______ words per minute.

Reading skills are very important. Experts estimate that it is possible for any normal adult English speaker to read 1,000 words a minute and more, with special training. Yet most students read only about 300 words per minute. The following principles might be helpful for foreign students who wish io increase their reading skills:◊Always read faster than is comfortable. The faster your normal rate of reading becomes, the better your understanding will be.◊Keep reading ahead. Do not allow yourself to regress while reading, even when you come across a new word. If some word, term or phrase has clouded your understanding, you should reread it only after you have read the entire paragraph through once.◊Read selectively. As you read make a conscious effort to screen the nouns, pronouns, and verbs from the other words, since these are the words that give meaning to what you have read. In effect, you should really read the nouns, pronouns and verbs and merely see the rest of the words in the sentence.◊Read beyond the lines. As a good reader, you should see ideas implied through the words, and bridge the gap between the obvious and the suggested, thus obtaining much more information.Because the reading assignments in most college courses are very long, students should plan to read every day. If, however, they find that they cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning, they should not panic. Instead, they should ask their classmates how much they are reading and attempt to learn from them what to read first and what to postpone until a later date.Because much of the past learning experience of foreign students may have been for the purpose of passing examinations, they might be inclined to put off studying until late in the term. Such behavior can result in failure in the US system, where assignments must be completed on time and done regularly each day.According to the author, what is the type of vocabulary the reader should not spend much time on while reading?

Reading skills are very important. Experts estimate that it is possible for any normal adult English speaker to read 1,000 words a minute and more, with special training. Yet most students read only about 300 words per minute. The following principles might be helpful for foreign students who wish io increase their reading skills:◊Always read faster than is comfortable. The faster your normal rate of reading becomes, the better your understanding will be.◊Keep reading ahead. Do not allow yourself to regress while reading, even when you come across a new word. If some word, term or phrase has clouded your understanding, you should reread it only after you have read the entire paragraph through once.◊Read selectively. As you read make a conscious effort to screen the nouns, pronouns, and verbs from the other words, since these are the words that give meaning to what you have read. In effect, you should really read the nouns, pronouns and verbs and merely see the rest of the words in the sentence.◊Read beyond the lines. As a good reader, you should see ideas implied through the words, and bridge the gap between the obvious and the suggested, thus obtaining much more information.Because the reading assignments in most college courses are very long, students should plan to read every day. If, however, they find that they cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning, they should not panic. Instead, they should ask their classmates how much they are reading and attempt to learn from them what to read first and what to postpone until a later date.Because much of the past learning experience of foreign students may have been for the purpose of passing examinations, they might be inclined to put off studying until late in the term. Such behavior can result in failure in the US system, where assignments must be completed on time and done regularly each day.What principle should foreign students follow when they come across a new word while reading?

Reading skills are very important. Experts estimate that it is possible for any normal adult English speaker to read 1,000 words a minute and more, with special training. Yet most students read only about 300 words per minute. The following principles might be helpful for foreign students who wish io increase their reading skills:◊Always read faster than is comfortable. The faster your normal rate of reading becomes, the better your understanding will be.◊Keep reading ahead. Do not allow yourself to regress while reading, even when you come across a new word. If some word, term or phrase has clouded your understanding, you should reread it only after you have read the entire paragraph through once.◊Read selectively. As you read make a conscious effort to screen the nouns, pronouns, and verbs from the other words, since these are the words that give meaning to what you have read. In effect, you should really read the nouns, pronouns and verbs and merely see the rest of the words in the sentence.◊Read beyond the lines. As a good reader, you should see ideas implied through the words, and bridge the gap between the obvious and the suggested, thus obtaining much more information.Because the reading assignments in most college courses are very long, students should plan to read every day. If, however, they find that they cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning, they should not panic. Instead, they should ask their classmates how much they are reading and attempt to learn from them what to read first and what to postpone until a later date.Because much of the past learning experience of foreign students may have been for the purpose of passing examinations, they might be inclined to put off studying until late in the term. Such behavior can result in failure in the US system, where assignments must be completed on time and done regularly each day.According to the passage, who should the student turn to for advice if he cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning?

Reading skills are very important. Experts estimate that it is possible for any normal adult English speaker to read 1,000 words a minute and more, with special training. Yet most students read only about 300 words per minute. The following principles might be helpful for foreign students who wish io increase their reading skills:◊Always read faster than is comfortable. The faster your normal rate of reading becomes, the better your understanding will be.◊Keep reading ahead. Do not allow yourself to regress while reading, even when you come across a new word. If some word, term or phrase has clouded your understanding, you should reread it only after you have read the entire paragraph through once.◊Read selectively. As you read make a conscious effort to screen the nouns, pronouns, and verbs from the other words, since these are the words that give meaning to what you have read. In effect, you should really read the nouns, pronouns and verbs and merely see the rest of the words in the sentence.◊Read beyond the lines. As a good reader, you should see ideas implied through the words, and bridge the gap between the obvious and the suggested, thus obtaining much more information.Because the reading assignments in most college courses are very long, students should plan to read every day. If, however, they find that they cannot complete all the assigned readings in the beginning, they should not panic. Instead, they should ask their classmates how much they are reading and attempt to learn from them what to read first and what to postpone until a later date.Because much of the past learning experience of foreign students may have been for the purpose of passing examinations, they might be inclined to put off studying until late in the term. Such behavior can result in failure in the US system, where assignments must be completed on time and done regularly each day.In the United States, the foreign students must do their reading assignments ______.

American Social Relations American society is much more informal than that of many other countries and, in some ways, is characterized by less social distinction. The American mixture of pride in achievement and sense of “I’m just as good as anybody else.” Along with lack of importance placed on personal dignity, is difficult for a foreigner to understand. Americans in general do not like to be considered inferior, and they grumble loudly about inconveniences or not getting a “fair deal.” Yet they do not make a point of their personal honor. As an illustration of the difference between European and American reflection in this respect, John Whyte in American Words and Ways gives the following account. A… [European] professor [visiting in America] was once sent a bill for hospital services which he had never enjoyed. The bill was accompanied by a strong letter demanding payment. It was obvious that a mistake in names had been made, but the professor, thoroughly aroused by this reflection on his character and financial integrity, wrote a vigorous letter of reply (which an American might also have done). But in this letter of reply he demanded that the creditor write him a formal letter of apology … for this reflection on his honor. Since no publicity could possibly have been given to the mistake, for mistake it was, most Americans in that situation, after getting the matter off their chest (or without doing that) would have let the matter rest. An example of the same thing may be that although Americans like to talk about their accomplishments, it is their custom to show certain modesty in reply to compliments. When someone praises an American upon his achievement or upon his personal appearance, which, incidentally, is a very polite thing to do in America, the American turns it aside. If someone should say, “Congratulations upon being elected president of the club,” an American is expected to reply, “Well, I hope I can do a good job,” or something of the sort. Or if someone says, “That’s a pretty blue necktie you are wearing,” an American is likely to say, “I’m glad you like it,” or “Thank you. My wife gave it to me for my birthday.” The response to a compliment seldom conveys the idea, “I, too, think I’m pretty good.” Likewise, there are fewer social conventions that show social differences in America. Students do not rise when a teacher enters the room. One does not always address a person by his title, such as “Professor” or “Doctor” (“Doctor” is always used, however, for a doctor of medicine). The respectful “sir” is not always used in the northern and western parts of the country. Clothing in America, as in every place in the world, to a certain degree reflects a person’s social position and income, or, at least among the young, his attitudes toward society or toward himself. Yet no person is restricted to a certain uniform or manner of dress because of his occupations or class in society. A bank president may wear overalls to paint his house and is not ashamed of either the job or the clothing, and a common laborer may wear a rented tuxedo at his daughter’s wedding. Yet in spite of all the informality, America is not completely without customs that show consciousness of social distinction. For example, one is likely to use somewhat more formal language when talking to superiors. While the informal “Hello” is an acceptable greeting from employee to employer, the employee is more apt to say, “Hello, Jim.” Southerners make a point of saying “Yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am,” or “No, sir,” or “No, ma’am,” when talking to an older person or a person in po-sition of authority. Although this is a good form all over the United States, “Yes, Mr. Weston” or “No, Mrs. Baker” is somewhat more common in a similar situa-tion in the North or West. Certain other forms of politeness are observed on social occasions. Though people wear hats less now than in the past, women still occasionally wear hats in church and at public social functions (except those that are in the evening). In America there are still customs by which a man may show respect for a woman. He opens the door for her and lets her precede him through it. He walks on the side of the walk nearest the street. He takes her arm when crossing a street or descending a stairway. A younger person also shows respect for an older one in much the same fashion, by helping the older person in things requiring physical exertion or involving possible accident. American surface informality often confuses the foreigner because he interprets it to mean no formality at all. He does not understand the point at which informality stops. A teacher, though friendly, pleasant, and informal in class, expects students to study hard, and he grades each student’s work critically and carefully. He also expects to be treated with respect. Although students are free to ask questions about statements made by the teacher, and may say that they disagree with what he says, they are not expected to contradict him. Similarly, in boy-girl relationships a foreign student should not mistake the easy relationship and flattery that are part of the dating pattern in the United States, nor presume that it means more than it does. Also, because an American is perhaps more likely to admit and laugh at his own mistakes than one who stands more on his dignity, a foreigner sometimes does not know how to handle the American’s apparent modest. The American is quite ready to admit certain weaknesses, such as “I never was good at mathematics.” “I’m a rotten tennis player.” Or “I’m the world’s worst bridge player.” However, the stranger must not be too quick to agree with him. Americans think it is all right, even sporting, to admit a defect in themselves, but they feel that it is almost an insult to have someone else agree. A part of American idea of good sportsmanship is the point of being generous to a loser. This attitude is carried over into matters that have nothing to do with competition. If a man talks about his weak points, the listener says something in the way of encouragement, or points to other qualities in which the speaker excels. An American student reports that when he was in a foreign country he was completely stunned when he said to a native, “I don’t speak your language very well.” And the native replied, “I should say you don’t.” in a similar situation an American would have commented, “Well, you have only been here two months.” or “But you’re making progress.” Although Americans are quite informal, it is best for a foreigner, in case of doubt, to be too formal rather than not formal enough. Consideration for others is the basis of all courtesy. 1. What can be inferred from the passage with regard to the informal style prevalent in the American society?

American Social Relations American society is much more informal than that of many other countries and, in some ways, is characterized by less social distinction. The American mixture of pride in achievement and sense of “I’m just as good as anybody else.” Along with lack of importance placed on personal dignity, is difficult for a foreigner to understand. Americans in general do not like to be considered inferior, and they grumble loudly about inconveniences or not getting a “fair deal.” Yet they do not make a point of their personal honor. As an illustration of the difference between European and American reflection in this respect, John Whyte in American Words and Ways gives the following account. A… [European] professor [visiting in America] was once sent a bill for hospital services which he had never enjoyed. The bill was accompanied by a strong letter demanding payment. It was obvious that a mistake in names had been made, but the professor, thoroughly aroused by this reflection on his character and financial integrity, wrote a vigorous letter of reply (which an American might also have done). But in this letter of reply he demanded that the creditor write him a formal letter of apology … for this reflection on his honor. Since no publicity could possibly have been given to the mistake, for mistake it was, most Americans in that situation, after getting the matter off their chest (or without doing that) would have let the matter rest. An example of the same thing may be that although Americans like to talk about their accomplishments, it is their custom to show certain modesty in reply to compliments. When someone praises an American upon his achievement or upon his personal appearance, which, incidentally, is a very polite thing to do in America, the American turns it aside. If someone should say, “Congratulations upon being elected president of the club,” an American is expected to reply, “Well, I hope I can do a good job,” or something of the sort. Or if someone says, “That’s a pretty blue necktie you are wearing,” an American is likely to say, “I’m glad you like it,” or “Thank you. My wife gave it to me for my birthday.” The response to a compliment seldom conveys the idea, “I, too, think I’m pretty good.” Likewise, there are fewer social conventions that show social differences in America. Students do not rise when a teacher enters the room. One does not always address a person by his title, such as “Professor” or “Doctor” (“Doctor” is always used, however, for a doctor of medicine). The respectful “sir” is not always used in the northern and western parts of the country. Clothing in America, as in every place in the world, to a certain degree reflects a person’s social position and income, or, at least among the young, his attitudes toward society or toward himself. Yet no person is restricted to a certain uniform or manner of dress because of his occupations or class in society. A bank president may wear overalls to paint his house and is not ashamed of either the job or the clothing, and a common laborer may wear a rented tuxedo at his daughter’s wedding. Yet in spite of all the informality, America is not completely without customs that show consciousness of social distinction. For example, one is likely to use somewhat more formal language when talking to superiors. While the informal “Hello” is an acceptable greeting from employee to employer, the employee is more apt to say, “Hello, Jim.” Southerners make a point of saying “Yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am,” or “No, sir,” or “No, ma’am,” when talking to an older person or a person in po-sition of authority. Although this is a good form all over the United States, “Yes, Mr. Weston” or “No, Mrs. Baker” is somewhat more common in a similar situa-tion in the North or West. Certain other forms of politeness are observed on social occasions. Though people wear hats less now than in the past, women still occasionally wear hats in church and at public social functions (except those that are in the evening). In America there are still customs by which a man may show respect for a woman. He opens the door for her and lets her precede him through it. He walks on the side of the walk nearest the street. He takes her arm when crossing a street or descending a stairway. A younger person also shows respect for an older one in much the same fashion, by helping the older person in things requiring physical exertion or involving possible accident. American surface informality often confuses the foreigner because he interprets it to mean no formality at all. He does not understand the point at which informality stops. A teacher, though friendly, pleasant, and informal in class, expects students to study hard, and he grades each student’s work critically and carefully. He also expects to be treated with respect. Although students are free to ask questions about statements made by the teacher, and may say that they disagree with what he says, they are not expected to contradict him. Similarly, in boy-girl relationships a foreign student should not mistake the easy relationship and flattery that are part of the dating pattern in the United States, nor presume that it means more than it does. Also, because an American is perhaps more likely to admit and laugh at his own mistakes than one who stands more on his dignity, a foreigner sometimes does not know how to handle the American’s apparent modest. The American is quite ready to admit certain weaknesses, such as “I never was good at mathematics.” “I’m a rotten tennis player.” Or “I’m the world’s worst bridge player.” However, the stranger must not be too quick to agree with him. Americans think it is all right, even sporting, to admit a defect in themselves, but they feel that it is almost an insult to have someone else agree. A part of American idea of good sportsmanship is the point of being generous to a loser. This attitude is carried over into matters that have nothing to do with competition. If a man talks about his weak points, the listener says something in the way of encouragement, or points to other qualities in which the speaker excels. An American student reports that when he was in a foreign country he was completely stunned when he said to a native, “I don’t speak your language very well.” And the native replied, “I should say you don’t.” in a similar situation an American would have commented, “Well, you have only been here two months.” or “But you’re making progress.” Although Americans are quite informal, it is best for a foreigner, in case of doubt, to be too formal rather than not formal enough. Consideration for others is the basis of all courtesy. 2. What is the attitude Americans adopt towards their own achievement? Give an explanation please.

The Wrong House The night was dark. And the house was dark. Dark-and silent. The two men ran toward it quietly. They slipped quickly through the dark bushes which surrounded the house. They reached the porch, ran up the steps, and knelt down, breathing heavily, in the dark shadows. They waited, listening. Silence. Perfect silence. Then--- out of the blackness---a whisper: “ We can’t stay out here… Take this suitcase…Let me try those keys. We’ve got to get in!” Ten…twenty…thirty seconds. With one of the keys, the first man opened the door. Silently, the two men entered the house, closed the door behind them, and locked it. Whispering, they discussed the situation. They wondered if they had awakened anyone in the house. “Let’s have a look at this place. Careful, Hy. I hope there isn’t anybody awake!” And the soft rays of a flashlight swept the room. It was a large room. A living room. Rugs, carefully rolled, lay piled on one side. The furniture---chairs, tables, couches---was covered by sheets. Dust lay like a light snow over everything. The man who held the flashlight spoke first. “Well, Blackie,” he said, “we’re in luck. Looks as if the family’s away.” “Yeah, gone for the summer, I guess. We better make sure, though.” Together they searched the house. They went on tiptoe through every room. There could be no doubt about it, the family was away. Had been away for weeks. Yes, Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns were in luck. Only once in the past ten days had their luck failed them. It had been with them when they made their big robbery---their truly magnificent robbery---on the Coast. It had been with them during their thousand-mile trip eastward, by car. It had been with them every moment---but one. That moment had come just one hour before. It came when Blackie, driving the car, ran over a policeman. And Blackie, thinking of the suitcase at Hy’s feet, had driven away. Swiftly. There had been a chase, of course. A wild, crazy chase. And when a bullet had punctured the gasoline tank, they had had to abandon the car. But luck or no luck, here they were. Alone, and without a car, in a completely strange town. But safe and sound---with the suitcase. The suitcase lay in the center of the table, in the center of the room. In it, neat little package on neat little package, lay nearly three hundred thousand dollars. “Listen,” said Hogan. “We have to get a car. Quick, too. and we can’t steal one: It’s too dangerous. We have to buy one. That means that we have to wait until the lots open. That will be about eight o’clock in this town.” “But what are we going to do with that?” Burns pointed to the suitcase. “Hide it right here. Sure! Why not? It’s much safer here than with us---until we get a car.” And so they hid the suitcase. They carried it down to the basement and buried it in an unfinished corner where no cement had been laid. Just before dawn, they slipped out. As they were walking down the street, Hogan remarked that a Samuel W. Rogers lived in the house they had just left. “How do you know?” “Saw the name on some of the library books. The guy’s really got a lot of books. Looks like a library in there.” The used car lots opened at eight, as they had supposed. Shortly before nine, Hogan and Burns had a car. A nice little car. Very quiet. Very inconspicuous. Very speedy. They arranged fro temporary plates and drove off. There blocks from the house, they stopped. Hogan got out. Walked toward the house. He’d just go around to the rear, he thought, and slip in. Fifty yards from the house, he stopped. Stared, swore softly. The front door was open. The window shades were up. The family had returned! Well, what bad luck! And what could they do? Break into the cellar that night, and pick up the suitcase? No---too dangerous, Hogan would have to think of something. “Leave it to me, kid.” He told Burns. “You drive the car. I’ll do the special brain work. Let’s find a telephone. Quick!” Ten minutes later, Hogan was consulting a telephone directory. Yes, there it was---Samuel W. Rogers, 555-6329. A moment later he was talking to the surprised Mr. Rogers. “Hello,” he began. “is his Mr. Rogers---Mr. Samuel Rogers?” “Yes, this is Mr. Rogers.” Hogan cleared his throat. “Mr. Rogers,” he said---and his tone was sharp, official, impressive---“this is Headquarters, Police Headquarters, talking. I am Simpson. Sergeant Simpson, of the detective division…” “Yes, yes!” came over the wire. “The Chief---the Chief of Police, you know,” here Hogan lowered his voice a little---“has ordered me to get in touch with you. He’s sending me out with one of our men to see you.” “Am I in trouble of some kind?” asked Mr. Rogers. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. But I have something of great importance to talk to you about.” “Very well,” came the voice of Mr. Rogers. “I’ll wait for you.” “And, Mr. Rogers,” Hogan cautioned, “please keep quiet about this. Don’t say anything to anybody. You’ll understand why when I see you.” On the way back to the house, Hogan explained his idea to Burns. Within ten minutes, “Sergeant Simpson” and “Detective Johnson” were conversing with the surprised Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers was a small man. Rather insignificant. He had pale blue eyes. Not much of a chin. A funny little face. He was nervous---a badly frightened man. Hogan told the whole story. Somewhat changed, of course. Mr. Rogers was surprised, but he was delighted to be able to help the police. He accompanied Hy Hogan to the cellar. And together they dug up the suitcase. Took it to the living room, opened it, saw that it had not been touched---that it really did hold a small fortune. Bills, bills, bills! Hogan closed the suitcase. “And now, Mr. Rogers,” he announced, in his best official manner, “Johnson and I must run along. The Chief wants a report---quick. We have to catch to rest of the robbers. I’ll keep in touch with you.” He picked up the suitcase and rose. Burns also rose. Mr. Rogers also rose. The trio walked to the door. Mr. Rogers opened it. “ Come on in, boys,” he said pleasantly---and in walked three men. Large men. Strong men. Men in police uniforms who, without fear, stared at Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns. “What does this mean, Mr. Rogers?” asked Hogan. “It’s quite simple,” said Mr. Rogers. “It just happens that I am the Chief of Police!” 1. In the first few paragraphs of the story, how de we know that the two men were breaking into the house?

The Wrong House The night was dark. And the house was dark. Dark-and silent. The two men ran toward it quietly. They slipped quickly through the dark bushes which surrounded the house. They reached the porch, ran up the steps, and knelt down, breathing heavily, in the dark shadows. They waited, listening. Silence. Perfect silence. Then--- out of the blackness---a whisper: “ We can’t stay out here… Take this suitcase…Let me try those keys. We’ve got to get in!” Ten…twenty…thirty seconds. With one of the keys, the first man opened the door. Silently, the two men entered the house, closed the door behind them, and locked it. Whispering, they discussed the situation. They wondered if they had awakened anyone in the house. “Let’s have a look at this place. Careful, Hy. I hope there isn’t anybody awake!” And the soft rays of a flashlight swept the room. It was a large room. A living room. Rugs, carefully rolled, lay piled on one side. The furniture---chairs, tables, couches---was covered by sheets. Dust lay like a light snow over everything. The man who held the flashlight spoke first. “Well, Blackie,” he said, “we’re in luck. Looks as if the family’s away.” “Yeah, gone for the summer, I guess. We better make sure, though.” Together they searched the house. They went on tiptoe through every room. There could be no doubt about it, the family was away. Had been away for weeks. Yes, Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns were in luck. Only once in the past ten days had their luck failed them. It had been with them when they made their big robbery---their truly magnificent robbery---on the Coast. It had been with them during their thousand-mile trip eastward, by car. It had been with them every moment---but one. That moment had come just one hour before. It came when Blackie, driving the car, ran over a policeman. And Blackie, thinking of the suitcase at Hy’s feet, had driven away. Swiftly. There had been a chase, of course. A wild, crazy chase. And when a bullet had punctured the gasoline tank, they had had to abandon the car. But luck or no luck, here they were. Alone, and without a car, in a completely strange town. But safe and sound---with the suitcase. The suitcase lay in the center of the table, in the center of the room. In it, neat little package on neat little package, lay nearly three hundred thousand dollars. “Listen,” said Hogan. “We have to get a car. Quick, too. and we can’t steal one: It’s too dangerous. We have to buy one. That means that we have to wait until the lots open. That will be about eight o’clock in this town.” “But what are we going to do with that?” Burns pointed to the suitcase. “Hide it right here. Sure! Why not? It’s much safer here than with us---until we get a car.” And so they hid the suitcase. They carried it down to the basement and buried it in an unfinished corner where no cement had been laid. Just before dawn, they slipped out. As they were walking down the street, Hogan remarked that a Samuel W. Rogers lived in the house they had just left. “How do you know?” “Saw the name on some of the library books. The guy’s really got a lot of books. Looks like a library in there.” The used car lots opened at eight, as they had supposed. Shortly before nine, Hogan and Burns had a car. A nice little car. Very quiet. Very inconspicuous. Very speedy. They arranged fro temporary plates and drove off. There blocks from the house, they stopped. Hogan got out. Walked toward the house. He’d just go around to the rear, he thought, and slip in. Fifty yards from the house, he stopped. Stared, swore softly. The front door was open. The window shades were up. The family had returned! Well, what bad luck! And what could they do? Break into the cellar that night, and pick up the suitcase? No---too dangerous, Hogan would have to think of something. “Leave it to me, kid.” He told Burns. “You drive the car. I’ll do the special brain work. Let’s find a telephone. Quick!” Ten minutes later, Hogan was consulting a telephone directory. Yes, there it was---Samuel W. Rogers, 555-6329. A moment later he was talking to the surprised Mr. Rogers. “Hello,” he began. “is his Mr. Rogers---Mr. Samuel Rogers?” “Yes, this is Mr. Rogers.” Hogan cleared his throat. “Mr. Rogers,” he said---and his tone was sharp, official, impressive---“this is Headquarters, Police Headquarters, talking. I am Simpson. Sergeant Simpson, of the detective division…” “Yes, yes!” came over the wire. “The Chief---the Chief of Police, you know,” here Hogan lowered his voice a little---“has ordered me to get in touch with you. He’s sending me out with one of our men to see you.” “Am I in trouble of some kind?” asked Mr. Rogers. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. But I have something of great importance to talk to you about.” “Very well,” came the voice of Mr. Rogers. “I’ll wait for you.” “And, Mr. Rogers,” Hogan cautioned, “please keep quiet about this. Don’t say anything to anybody. You’ll understand why when I see you.” On the way back to the house, Hogan explained his idea to Burns. Within ten minutes, “Sergeant Simpson” and “Detective Johnson” were conversing with the surprised Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers was a small man. Rather insignificant. He had pale blue eyes. Not much of a chin. A funny little face. He was nervous---a badly frightened man. Hogan told the whole story. Somewhat changed, of course. Mr. Rogers was surprised, but he was delighted to be able to help the police. He accompanied Hy Hogan to the cellar. And together they dug up the suitcase. Took it to the living room, opened it, saw that it had not been touched---that it really did hold a small fortune. Bills, bills, bills! Hogan closed the suitcase. “And now, Mr. Rogers,” he announced, in his best official manner, “Johnson and I must run along. The Chief wants a report---quick. We have to catch to rest of the robbers. I’ll keep in touch with you.” He picked up the suitcase and rose. Burns also rose. Mr. Rogers also rose. The trio walked to the door. Mr. Rogers opened it. “ Come on in, boys,” he said pleasantly---and in walked three men. Large men. Strong men. Men in police uniforms who, without fear, stared at Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns. “What does this mean, Mr. Rogers?” asked Hogan. “It’s quite simple,” said Mr. Rogers. “It just happens that I am the Chief of Police!” 2. What did they conclude about the residents of the house? Why?

The Wrong House The night was dark. And the house was dark. Dark-and silent. The two men ran toward it quietly. They slipped quickly through the dark bushes which surrounded the house. They reached the porch, ran up the steps, and knelt down, breathing heavily, in the dark shadows. They waited, listening. Silence. Perfect silence. Then--- out of the blackness---a whisper: “ We can’t stay out here… Take this suitcase…Let me try those keys. We’ve got to get in!” Ten…twenty…thirty seconds. With one of the keys, the first man opened the door. Silently, the two men entered the house, closed the door behind them, and locked it. Whispering, they discussed the situation. They wondered if they had awakened anyone in the house. “Let’s have a look at this place. Careful, Hy. I hope there isn’t anybody awake!” And the soft rays of a flashlight swept the room. It was a large room. A living room. Rugs, carefully rolled, lay piled on one side. The furniture---chairs, tables, couches---was covered by sheets. Dust lay like a light snow over everything. The man who held the flashlight spoke first. “Well, Blackie,” he said, “we’re in luck. Looks as if the family’s away.” “Yeah, gone for the summer, I guess. We better make sure, though.” Together they searched the house. They went on tiptoe through every room. There could be no doubt about it, the family was away. Had been away for weeks. Yes, Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns were in luck. Only once in the past ten days had their luck failed them. It had been with them when they made their big robbery---their truly magnificent robbery---on the Coast. It had been with them during their thousand-mile trip eastward, by car. It had been with them every moment---but one. That moment had come just one hour before. It came when Blackie, driving the car, ran over a policeman. And Blackie, thinking of the suitcase at Hy’s feet, had driven away. Swiftly. There had been a chase, of course. A wild, crazy chase. And when a bullet had punctured the gasoline tank, they had had to abandon the car. But luck or no luck, here they were. Alone, and without a car, in a completely strange town. But safe and sound---with the suitcase. The suitcase lay in the center of the table, in the center of the room. In it, neat little package on neat little package, lay nearly three hundred thousand dollars. “Listen,” said Hogan. “We have to get a car. Quick, too. and we can’t steal one: It’s too dangerous. We have to buy one. That means that we have to wait until the lots open. That will be about eight o’clock in this town.” “But what are we going to do with that?” Burns pointed to the suitcase. “Hide it right here. Sure! Why not? It’s much safer here than with us---until we get a car.” And so they hid the suitcase. They carried it down to the basement and buried it in an unfinished corner where no cement had been laid. Just before dawn, they slipped out. As they were walking down the street, Hogan remarked that a Samuel W. Rogers lived in the house they had just left. “How do you know?” “Saw the name on some of the library books. The guy’s really got a lot of books. Looks like a library in there.” The used car lots opened at eight, as they had supposed. Shortly before nine, Hogan and Burns had a car. A nice little car. Very quiet. Very inconspicuous. Very speedy. They arranged fro temporary plates and drove off. There blocks from the house, they stopped. Hogan got out. Walked toward the house. He’d just go around to the rear, he thought, and slip in. Fifty yards from the house, he stopped. Stared, swore softly. The front door was open. The window shades were up. The family had returned! Well, what bad luck! And what could they do? Break into the cellar that night, and pick up the suitcase? No---too dangerous, Hogan would have to think of something. “Leave it to me, kid.” He told Burns. “You drive the car. I’ll do the special brain work. Let’s find a telephone. Quick!” Ten minutes later, Hogan was consulting a telephone directory. Yes, there it was---Samuel W. Rogers, 555-6329. A moment later he was talking to the surprised Mr. Rogers. “Hello,” he began. “is his Mr. Rogers---Mr. Samuel Rogers?” “Yes, this is Mr. Rogers.” Hogan cleared his throat. “Mr. Rogers,” he said---and his tone was sharp, official, impressive---“this is Headquarters, Police Headquarters, talking. I am Simpson. Sergeant Simpson, of the detective division…” “Yes, yes!” came over the wire. “The Chief---the Chief of Police, you know,” here Hogan lowered his voice a little---“has ordered me to get in touch with you. He’s sending me out with one of our men to see you.” “Am I in trouble of some kind?” asked Mr. Rogers. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. But I have something of great importance to talk to you about.” “Very well,” came the voice of Mr. Rogers. “I’ll wait for you.” “And, Mr. Rogers,” Hogan cautioned, “please keep quiet about this. Don’t say anything to anybody. You’ll understand why when I see you.” On the way back to the house, Hogan explained his idea to Burns. Within ten minutes, “Sergeant Simpson” and “Detective Johnson” were conversing with the surprised Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers was a small man. Rather insignificant. He had pale blue eyes. Not much of a chin. A funny little face. He was nervous---a badly frightened man. Hogan told the whole story. Somewhat changed, of course. Mr. Rogers was surprised, but he was delighted to be able to help the police. He accompanied Hy Hogan to the cellar. And together they dug up the suitcase. Took it to the living room, opened it, saw that it had not been touched---that it really did hold a small fortune. Bills, bills, bills! Hogan closed the suitcase. “And now, Mr. Rogers,” he announced, in his best official manner, “Johnson and I must run along. The Chief wants a report---quick. We have to catch to rest of the robbers. I’ll keep in touch with you.” He picked up the suitcase and rose. Burns also rose. Mr. Rogers also rose. The trio walked to the door. Mr. Rogers opened it. “ Come on in, boys,” he said pleasantly---and in walked three men. Large men. Strong men. Men in police uniforms who, without fear, stared at Hy Hogan and Blackie Burns. “What does this mean, Mr. Rogers?” asked Hogan. “It’s quite simple,” said Mr. Rogers. “It just happens that I am the Chief of Police!” 3. What caused them to abandon their car?