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diff --git a/14818-h/14818-h.htm b/14818-h/14818-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdcc811 --- /dev/null +++ b/14818-h/14818-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8326 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Daughter of Anderson Crow, by George Barr McCutcheon</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: -5%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: -5%; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: -5%; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: -5%; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14818 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Daughter of Anderson Crow, by George Barr +McCutcheon, Illustrated by B. Martin Justice</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Frontispiece" id= +"Frontispiece"></a> <a href="images/001.jpg"><img src= +"images/001.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>Anderson Crow</b> +<br /></div> +<h1>THE DAUGHTER</h1> +<h1>OF ANDERSON CROW</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>GEORGE BARR MCCUTCHEON</h2> +<div class="center">Author of<br /> +<br /> +<i>Beverly of Graustark</i>, <i>Jane Cable</i>, etc.</div> +<h4>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY</h4> +<h3>B. MARTIN JUSTICE</h3> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/002.png" width="10%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h6>New York<br /> +Dodd, Mead and Company</h6> +<h4>1907</h4> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td align='right'>CHAPTER</td> +<td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">ANDERSON CROW, DETECTIVE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">THE PURSUIT BEGINS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">THE CULPRITS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">ANDERSON RECTIFIES AN ERROR</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">THE BABE ON THE DOORSTEP</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">REFLECTION AND DEDUCTION</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">THE MYSTERIOUS VISITOR</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">SOME YEARS GO BY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">THE VILLAGE QUEEN</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">ROSALIE HAS PLANS OF HER OWN</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">ELSIE BANKS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">THE SPELLING-BEE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">A TINKLETOWN SENSATION</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">ROSALIE DISAPPEARS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">THE HAUNTED HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">WICKER BONNER, HARVARD</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">THE MEN IN THE SLEIGH</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">WITH THE KIDNAPERS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">IN THE CAVE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">THE TRAP-DOOR</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">JACK, THE GIANT KILLER</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">TINKLETOWN'S CONVULSION</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">THE FLIGHT OF THE KIDNAPERS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">AS THE HEART GROWS OLDER</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">THE LEFT VENTRICLE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">THE GRIN DERISIVE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">THE BLIND MAN'S EYES</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">THE MYSTERIOUS QUESTIONER</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">THE HEMISPHERE TRAIN ROBBERY</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">"AS YOU LIKE IT"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">THE LUCK OF ANDERSON CROW</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">BILL BRIGGS TELLS A TALE</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">ELSIE BANKS RETURNS</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">THE STORY IS TOLD</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">ANDERSON CROW'S RESIGNATION</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#Frontispiece">Anderson Crow (Frontispiece)</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i036.jpg">"'Safe for a minute or two at least,' he +whispered"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">"A baby, alive and warm, lay packed in the blankets"</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i106.jpg">"September brought Elsie Banks"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i122.jpg">"The teacher was amazingly pretty on this +eventful night"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i140.jpg">"'What is the meaning of all +this?'"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i162.jpg">The haunted house</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">Wicker Bonner</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i192.jpg">"Rosalie was no match for the huge +woman"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i204.jpg">"She shrank back from another blow which +seemed impending"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">"Left the young man to the care of an excellent nurse"</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i268.jpg">"'I think I understand, Rosalie'"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i272.jpg">"'I beg your pardon,' he said +humbly'"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left"><a href="#i278.jpg">"It was a wise, discreet old oak"</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">"The huge automobile had struck the washout"</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW</h1> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3><i>Anderson Crow, Detective</i></h3> +<p>He was imposing, even in his pensiveness. There was no denying +the fact that he was an important personage in Tinkletown, and to +the residents of Tinkletown that meant a great deal, for was not +their village a perpetual monument to the American Revolution? Even +the most generalising of historians were compelled to devote at +least a paragraph to the battle of Tinkletown, while some of the +more enlightened gave a whole page and a picture of the conflict +that brought glory to the sleepy inhabitants whose ancestors were +enterprising enough to annihilate a whole company of British +redcoats, once on a time.</p> +<p>Notwithstanding all this, a particularly disagreeable visitor +from the city once remarked, in the presence of half a dozen +descendants (after waiting twenty minutes at the post-office for a +dime's worth of stamps), that Tinkletown was indeed a monument, but +he could not understand why the dead had been left unburied. There +was excellent cause for resentment, but the young man and his +stamps were far away before the full force of the slander +penetrated the brains of the listeners.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow was as imposing and as rugged as the tallest shaft +of marble in the little cemetery on the edge of the town. No one +questioned his power and authority, no one misjudged his altitude, +and no one overlooked his dignity. For twenty-eight years he had +served Tinkletown and himself in the triple capacity of town +marshal, fire chief and street commissioner. He had a system of +government peculiarly his own; and no one possessed the heart or +temerity to upset it, no matter what may have been the political +inducements. It would have been like trying to improve the laws of +nature to put a new man in his place. He had become a fixture that +only dissolution could remove. Be it said, however, that +dissolution did not have its common and accepted meaning when +applied to Anderson Crow. For instance, in discoursing upon the +obnoxious habits of the town's most dissolute rake—Alf +Reesling—Anderson had more than once ventured the opinion +that "he was carrying his dissolution entirely too far."</p> +<p>And had not Anderson Crow risen to more than local distinction? +Had not his fame gone abroad throughout the land? Not only was he +the Marshal of Tinkletown at a salary of $200 a year, but he was +president of the County Horse-thief Detectives' Association and +also a life-long delegate to the State Convention of the Sons of +the Revolution. Along that line, let it be added, every parent in +Tinkletown bemoaned the birth of a daughter, because that simple +circumstance of origin robbed the society's roster of a new +name.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/010.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Anderson Crow, at the age of forty-nine, had a proud official +record behind him and a guaranteed future ahead. Doubtless it was +of this that he was thinking, as he leaned pensively against the +town hitching-rack and gingerly chewed the blade of wire-grass +which dangled even below the chin whiskers that had been with him +for twenty years. The faraway expression in his watery-blue eyes +gave evidence that he was as great reminiscently as he was +personally. So successful had been his career as a law preserver, +that of late years no evil-doer had had the courage to ply his +nefarious games in the community. The town drunkard, Alf Reesling, +seldom appeared on the streets in his habitual condition, because, +as he dolefully remarked, he would deserve arrest and confinement +for "criminal negligence," if for nothing else. The marshal's fame +as a detective had long since escaped from the narrow confines of +Tinkletown. He was well known at the county seat, and on no less +than three occasions had his name mentioned in the "big city" +papers in connection with the arrest of notorious +horse-thieves.</p> +<p>And now the whole town was trembling with a new excitement, due +to the recognition accorded her triple official. On Monday morning +he had ventured forth from his office in the long-deserted +"calaboose," resplendent in a brand-new nickel-plated star. By noon +everybody in town knew that he was a genuine "detective," a member +of the great organisation known as the New York Imperial Detective +Association; and that fresh honour had come to Tinkletown through +the agency of a post-revolution generation. The beauty of it all +was that Anderson never lost a shred of his serenity in explaining +how the association had implored him to join its forces, even going +so far as to urge him to come to New York City, where he could +assist and advise in all of its large operations. And, moreover, he +had been obliged to pay but ten dollars membership fee, besides +buying the blazing star for the paltry sum of three dollars and a +quarter.</p> +<p>Every passer-by on this bright spring morning offered a +respectful "Howdy" to Anderson Crow, whose only recognition was a +slow and imposing nod of the head. Once only was he driven to +relinquish his pensive attitude, and that was when an impertinent +blue-bottle fly undertook to rest for a brief spell upon the +nickel-plated star. Never was blue-bottle more energetically put to +flight.</p> +<p>But even as the Tinkletown Pooh-Bah posed in restful supremacy +there were rushing down upon him affairs of the epoch-making kind. +Up in the clear, lazy sky a thunderbolt was preparing to hurl +itself into the very heart of Tinkletown, and at the very head of +Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>Afterward it was recalled by observing citizens that just before +noon—seven minutes to twelve, in fact—a small cloud no +bigger than the proverbial hand crossed the sun hurriedly as if +afraid to tarry. At that very instant a stranger drove up to the +hitching-rack, bringing his sweat-covered horse to a standstill so +abruptly in front of the marshal's nose that that dignitary's hat +fell off backward.</p> +<p>"Whoa!" came clearly and unmistakably from the lips of the +stranger who held the reins. Half a dozen loafers on the +post-office steps were positive that he said nothing more, a fact +that was afterward worth remembering.</p> +<p>"Here!" exclaimed Anderson Crow wrathfully. "Do you know what +you're doin', consarn you?"</p> +<p>"I beg pardon," everybody within hearing heard the young man +say. "Is this the city of Tinkletown?" He said "city," they could +swear, every man's son of them.</p> +<p>"Yes, it is," answered the marshal severely. "What of it?"</p> +<p>"That's all. I just wanted to know. Where's the store?"</p> +<p>"Which store?" quite crossly. The stranger seemed nonplussed at +this.</p> +<p>"Have you more than—oh, to be sure. I should say, where is +the <i>nearest</i> store?" apologised the stranger.</p> +<p>"Well, this is a good one, I reckon," said Mr. Crow laconically, +indicating the post-office and general store.</p> +<p>"Will you be good enough to hold my horse while I run in there +for a minute?" calmly asked the new arrival in town, springing +lightly from the mud-spattered buggy. Anderson Crow almost +staggered beneath this indignity. The crowd gasped, and then waited +breathlessly for the withering process.</p> +<p>"Why—why, dod-gast you, sir, what do you think I +am—a hitchin'-post?" exploded on the lips of the new +detective. His face was flaming red.</p> +<p>"You'll have to excuse me, my good man, but I thought I saw a +hitching-rack as I drove up. Ah, here it is. How careless of me. +But say, I won't be in the store more than a second, and it doesn't +seem worth while to tie the old crow-bait. If you'll just watch +him—or her—for a minute I'll be greatly obliged, +and—"</p> +<p>"Watch your own horse," roared the marshal thunderously.</p> +<p>"Don't get huffy," cried the young man cheerily. "It will be +worth a quarter to you."</p> +<p>"Do you know who I am?" demanded Anderson Crow, purple to the +roots of his goatee.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/014.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Yes, sir; I know perfectly well, but I refuse to give it away. +Here, take the bit, old chap, and hold Dobbin for about a minute +and half," went on the stranger ruthlessly; and before Anderson +Crow knew what had happened he was actually holding the panting nag +by the bit. The young man went up the steps three at a time, almost +upsetting Uncle Gideon Luce, who had not been so spry as the others +in clearing the way for him. The crowd had ample time in which to +study the face, apparel and manner of this energetic young man.</p> +<p>That he was from the city, good-looking and well dressed, there +was no doubt. He was tall and his face was beardless; that much +could be seen at a glance. Somehow, he seemed to be laughing all +the time—a fact that was afterward recalled with some +surprise and no little horror. At the time, the loungers thought +his smile was a merry one, but afterward they stoutly maintained +there was downright villainy in the leer. His coat was very dusty, +proving that he had driven far and swiftly. Three or four of the +loungers followed him into the store. He was standing before the +counter over which Mr. Lamson served his soda-water. In one hand he +held an envelope and in the other his straw hat. George Ray, more +observant than the rest, took note of the fact that it was with the +hat that he was fanning himself vigorously.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/015.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"A plain vanilla—please rush it along," commanded the +stranger. Mr. Lamson, if possible slower than the town itself, +actually showed unmistakable signs of acceleration. Tossing off the +soda, the stranger dried his lips with a blue-hemmed white +handkerchief. "Is this the post-office?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yep," said Mr. Lamson, who was too penurious to waste +words.</p> +<p>"Anything here for me?" demanded the newcomer.</p> +<p>"I'll see," said the postmaster, and from force of habit began +looking through the pile of letters without asking the man's name. +Mr. Lamson knew everybody in the county.</p> +<p>"Nothing here," taking off his spectacles conclusively.</p> +<p>"I didn't think there was," said the other complacently. "Give +me a bottle of witch hazel, a package of invisible hair-pins and a +box of parlor matches. Quick; I'm in a hurry!"</p> +<p>"Did you say hat-pins?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; I said hair-pins."</p> +<p>"We haven't any that ain't visible. How would safety-pins +do?"</p> +<p>"Never mind; give me the bottle and the matches," said the +other, glancing at a very handsome gold watch. "Is the old man +still holding my horse?" he called to a citizen near the door. +Seven necks stretched simultaneously to accommodate him, and seven +voices answered in the affirmative. The stranger calmly opened the +box of matches, filled his silver match-safe, and then threw the +box back on the counter, an unheard-of piece of profligacy in those +parts. "Needn't mind wrapping up the bottle," he said.</p> +<p>"Don't you care for these matches?" asked Mr. Lamson in mild +surprise.</p> +<p>"I'll donate them to the church," said the other, tossing a coin +upon the counter and dashing from the store. The crowd ebbed along +behind him. "Gentle as a lamb, isn't he?" he called to Anderson +Crow, who still clutched the bit. "Much obliged, sir; I'll do as +much for you some day. If you're ever in New York, hunt me up and +I'll see that you have a good time. What road do I take to Crow's +Cliff?"</p> +<p>"Turn to your left here," said Anderson Crow before he thought. +Then he called himself a fool for being so obliging to the +fellow.</p> +<p>"How far is it from here?"</p> +<p>"Mile and a half," again answered Mr. Crow helplessly. This time +he almost swore under his breath.</p> +<p>"But he can't get there," volunteered one of the bystanders.</p> +<p>"Why can't he?" demanded the marshal.</p> +<p>"Bridge over Turnip Creek is washed out. Did you forget +that?"</p> +<p>"Of course not," promptly replied Mr. Crow, who <i>had</i> +forgotten it; "But, dang it, he c'n swim, can't he?"</p> +<p>"You say the bridge is gone?" asked the stranger, visibly +excited.</p> +<p>"Yes, and the crick's too high to ford, too."</p> +<p>"Well, how in thunder am I to get to Crow's Cliff?"</p> +<p>"There's another bridge four miles upstream. It's still there," +said George Ray. Anderson Crow had scornfully washed his hands of +the affair.</p> +<p>"Confound the luck! I haven't time to drive that far. I have to +be there at half-past twelve. I'm late now! Is there no way to get +across this miserable creek?" He was in the buggy now, whip in +hand, and his eyes wore an anxious expression. Some of the men +vowed later that he positively looked frightened.</p> +<p>"There's a foot-log high and dry, and you can walk across, but +you can't get the horse and buggy over," said one of the men.</p> +<p>"Well, that's just what I'll have to do. Say, Mr. Officer, +suppose you drive me down to the creek and then bring the horse +back here to a livery stable. I'll pay you well for it. I must get +to Crow's Cliff in fifteen minutes."</p> +<p>"I'm no errant-boy!" cried Anderson Crow so wrathfully that two +or three boys snickered.</p> +<p>"You're a darned old crank, that's what you are!" exclaimed the +stranger angrily. Everybody gasped, and Mr. Crow staggered back +against the hitching-rail.</p> +<p>"See here, young man, none o' that!" he sputtered. "You can't +talk that way to an officer of the law. I'll—"</p> +<p>"You won't do anything, do you hear that? But if you knew who I +am you'd be doing something blamed quick." A dozen men heard him +say it, and they remembered it word for word.</p> +<p>"You go scratch yourself!" retorted Anderson Crow scornfully. +That was supposed to be a terrible challenge, but the stranger took +no notice of it.</p> +<p>"What am I to do with this horse and buggy?" he growled, half to +himself. "I bought the darned thing outright up in Boggs City, just +because the liveryman didn't know me and wouldn't let me a rig. Now +I suppose I'll have to take the old plug down to the creek and +drown him in order to get rid of him."</p> +<p>Nobody remonstrated. He looked a bit dangerous with his broad +shoulders and square jaw.</p> +<p>"What will you give me for the outfit, horse, buggy, harness and +all? I'll sell cheap if some one makes a quick offer." The +bystanders looked at one another blankly, and at last the +concentrated gaze fell upon the Pooh-Bah of the town. The case +seemed to be one that called for his attention; truly, it did not +look like public property, this astounding proposition.</p> +<p>"What you so derned anxious to sell for?" demanded Anderson +Crow, listening from a distance to see if he could detect a blemish +in the horse's breathing gear. At a glance, the buggy looked safe +enough.</p> +<p>"I'm anxious to sell for cash," replied the stranger; and +Anderson was floored. The boy who snickered this time had cause to +regret it, for Mr. Crow arrested him half an hour later for +carrying a bean-shooter. "I paid a hundred dollars for the outfit +in Boggs City," went on the stranger nervously. "Some one make an +offer—and quick! I'm in a rush!"</p> +<p>"I'll give five dollars!" said one of the onlookers with an +apologetic laugh. This was the match that started fire in the +thrifty noddles of Tinkletown's best citizens. Before they knew it +they were bidding against each other with the true "horse-swapping" +instinct, and the offers had reached $21.25 when the stranger +unceremoniously closed the sale by crying out, "Sold!" There is no +telling how high the bids might have gone if he could have waited +half an hour or so. Uncle Gideon Luce afterward said that he could +have had twenty-four dollars "just as well as not." They were +bidding up a quarter at a time, and no one seemed willing to drop +out. The successful bidder was Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"You can pay me as we drive along. Jump in!" cried the stranger, +looking at his watch with considerable agitation. "All I ask is +that you drive me to the foot-log that crosses the creek."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3><i>The Pursuit Begins</i></h3> +<p>Fifteen minutes later Anderson Crow was parading proudly about +the town. He had taken the stranger to the creek and had seen him +scurry across the log to the opposite side, supplied with +directions that would lead him to the nearest route through the +swamps and timberland to Crow's Cliff. The stranger had Anderson's +money in his pocket; but Anderson had a very respectable sort of +driving outfit to show for it. His wife kept dinner for him until +two o'clock, and then sent the youngest Crow out to tell her father +that he'd have to go hungry until supper-time.</p> +<p>It is no wonder that Anderson failed to reach home in time for +the midday meal. He started home properly enough, but what progress +could he make when everybody in town stopped him to inquire about +the remarkable deal and to have a look at the purchase. Without a +single dissenting voice, Tinkletown said Anderson had very much the +"best of the bargain." George Ray meant all right when he said, "A +fool for luck," but he was obliged to explain thoroughly the +witticism before the proud Mr. Crow could consider himself +appeased.</p> +<p>It was not until he pulled up in front of the <i>Weekly +Banner</i> establishment to tell the reporter "the news" that his +equanimity received its first jar. He was quite proud of the deal, +and, moreover, he enjoyed seeing his name in the paper. In the +meantime almost everybody in Tinkletown was discussing the awful +profligacy of the stranger. It had not occurred to anybody to +wonder why he had been in such a hurry to reach Crow's Cliff, a +wild, desolate spot down the river.</p> +<p>"The hoss alone is worth fifty dollars easy," volunteered Mr. +Crow triumphantly. The detective's badge on his inflated chest +seemed to sparkle with glee.</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson, isn't it a little queer that he should sell out +so cheap?" asked Harry Squires, the local reporter and +pressfeeder.</p> +<p>"What's that?" demanded Anderson Crow sharply.</p> +<p>"Do you think it's really true that he bought the nag up at +Boggs City?" asked the sceptic. Mr. Crow wallowed his quid of +tobacco helplessly for a minute or two. He could feel himself +turning pale.</p> +<p>"He said so; ain't that enough?" he managed to bluster.</p> +<p>"It seems to have been," replied Harry, who had gone to night +school in Albany for two years.</p> +<p>"Well, what in thunder are you talking about then?" exclaimed +Anderson Crow, whipping up.</p> +<p>"I'll bet three dollars it's a stolen outfit!"</p> +<p>"You go to Halifax!" shouted Anderson, but his heart was cold. +Something told him that Harry Squires was right. He drove home in a +state of dire uncertainty and distress. Somehow, his enthusiasm was +gone.</p> +<p>"Dang it!" he said, without reason, as he was unhitching the +horse in the barn lot.</p> +<p>"Hey, Mr. Crow!" cried a shrill voice from the street. He looked +up and saw a small boy coming on the run.</p> +<p>"What's up, Toby?" asked Mr. Crow, all a-tremble. He knew!</p> +<p>"They just got a telephone from Boggs City," panted the boy, +"down to the <i>Banner</i> office. Harry Squires says for you to +hurry down—buggy and all. It's been stole."</p> +<p>"Good Lord!" gasped Anderson. His badge danced before his eyes +and then seemed to shrivel.</p> +<p>Quite a crowd had collected at the <i>Banner</i> office. There +was a sudden hush when the marshal drove up. Even the horse felt +the intensity of the moment. He shied at a dog and then kicked over +the dashboard, upsetting Anderson Crow's meagre dignity and almost +doing the same to the vehicle.</p> +<p>"You're a fine detective!" jeered Harry Squires; and poor old +Anderson hated him ever afterward.</p> +<p>"What have you heerd?" demanded the marshal.</p> +<p>"There's been a terrible murder at Boggs City, that's all. The +chief of police just telephoned to us that a farmer named Grover +was found dead in a ditch just outside of town—shot through +the head, his pockets rifled. It is known that he started to town +to deposit four hundred dollars hog-money in the bank. The money is +missing, and so are his horse and buggy. A young fellow was seen in +the neighbourhood early this morning—a stranger. The chief's +description corresponds with the man who sold that rig to you. The +murderer is known to have driven in this direction. People saw him +going almost at a gallop."</p> +<p>It is not necessary to say that Tinkletown thoroughly turned +inside out with excitement. The whole population was soon at the +post-office, and everybody was trying to supply Anderson Crow with +wits. He had lost his own.</p> +<p>"We've got to catch that fellow," finally resolved the marshal. +There was a dead silence.</p> +<p>"He's got a pistol," ventured some one.</p> +<p>"How do you know?" demanded Mr. Crow keenly. "Did y' see +it?"</p> +<p>"He couldn't ha' killed that feller 'thout a gun."</p> +<p>"That's a fact," agreed Anderson Crow. "Well, we've got to get +him, anyhow. I call for volunteers! Who will join me in the +search?" cried the marshal bravely.</p> +<p>"I hate to go to Crow's Cliff after him," said George Ray. "It's +a lonesome place, and as dark as night 'mong them trees and +rocks."</p> +<p>"It's our duty to catch him. He's a criminal, and besides, he's +killed a man," said Crow severely.</p> +<p>"And he has twenty-one dollars of your money," added Harry +Squires. "I'll go with you, Anderson. I've got a revolver."</p> +<p>"Look out there!" roared Anderson Crow. "The blamed thing might +go off!" he added as the reporter drew a shiny six-shooter from his +pocket.</p> +<p>The example set by one brave man had its influence on the crowd. +A score or more volunteered, despite the objections of their wives, +and it was not long before Anderson Crow was leading his motley +band of sleuths down the lane to the foot-log over which the +desperado had gone an hour before.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/025.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>It was at the beginning of the man-hunt that various citizens +recalled certain actions and certain characteristics of the +stranger which had made them suspicious from the start. His +prodigal disposition of the box of matches impressed most of them +as reckless dare-devilism; his haste, anxiety, and a single +instance of mild profanity told others of his viciousness. One man +was sure he had seen the stranger's watch chain in farmer Grover's +possession; and another saw something black on his thumb, which he +now remembered was a powder stain.</p> +<p>"I noticed all them things," averred Anderson Crow, supreme once +more.</p> +<p>"But what in thunder did he want with those hair-pins?" inquired +George Ray.</p> +<p>"Never mind," said Anderson mysteriously. "You'll find out soon +enough."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/026.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Do you know Anderson?" some one asked.</p> +<p>"Of course I do," responded the marshal loftily.</p> +<p>"Well, what were they for, then?"</p> +<p>"I'm not givin' any clews away. You just wait a while and see if +I'm not right."</p> +<p>And they were satisfied that the detective knew all about it. +After crossing the foot-log the party was divided as to which +direction it should take. The marshal said the man had run to the +southeast, but for some inexplicable reason quite a number of the +pursuers wanted to hunt for him in the northwest. Finally it was +decided to separate into posses of ten, all to converge at Crow's +Cliff as soon as possible. There were enough double-barrelled +shotguns in the party to have conquered a pirate crew.</p> +<p>At the end of an hour Anderson Crow and his delegation came to +the narrow path which led to the summit of Crow's Cliff. They were +very brave by this time. A small boy was telling them he had seen +the fugitive about dinner-time "right where you fellers are +standin' now."</p> +<p>"Did he have any blood on him?" demanded Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"No, sir; not 'less it was under his clothes."</p> +<p>"Did he say anythin' to you?"</p> +<p>"He ast me where this path went to."</p> +<p>"See that, gentlemen!" cried Anderson. "I knew I was right. He +wanted—"</p> +<p>"Well, where did he go?" demanded Harry Squires.</p> +<p>"I said it went to the top of the clift. An' then he said, 'How +do you git to the river?' I tole him to go down this side path here +an' 'round the bottom of the hill."</p> +<p>"Didn't he go up the cliff?" demanded the marshal.</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Well, what in thunder did he ask me where the cliff was if +he—"</p> +<p>"So he went to the river, eh?" interrupted Squires. "Come on, +men; he went down through this brush and bottomland."</p> +<p>"He got lost, I guess," volunteered the boy.</p> +<p>"What!"</p> +<p>"'Cause he yelled at me after he'd gone in a-ways an' +ast—an' ast—" The boy paused irresolutely.</p> +<p>"Asked what?"</p> +<p>"He ast me where in h—— the path was."</p> +<p>"By ginger, that's him, right out an' out!" exclaimed Mr. Crow +excitedly.</p> +<p>"'Nen he said he'd give me a quarter if I'd show him the way; so +I—"</p> +<p>"Did he give you the quarter?" questioned one of the men.</p> +<p>"Yep. He'd a roll of bills as big as my leg." Everybody gasped +and thought of Grover's hog-money.</p> +<p>"You went to the river with him?" interrogated the reporter.</p> +<p>"I went as fur as the clearin', an' then he tole me to stop. He +said he could find the way from there. After that he run up the +bank as if some one was after him. There was a boat waitin' fer him +under the clift."</p> +<p>"Did he get into it?" cried Squires.</p> +<p>"He tole me not to look or he'd break my neck," said the boy. +The posse nervously fingered its arsenal.</p> +<p>"But you <i>did</i> look?"</p> +<p>"Yep. I seen 'em plain."</p> +<p>"Them? Was there more than one?"</p> +<p>"There was a woman in the skift."</p> +<p>"You don't say so!" gasped Squires.</p> +<p>"Dang it, ain't he tellin' you!" Anderson ejaculated +scornfully.</p> +<p>The boy was hurried off at the head of the posse, which by this +time had been reinforced. He led the way through the dismal +thickets, telling his story as he went.</p> +<p>"She was mighty purty, too," he said. "The feller waved his hat +when he seen her, an' she waved back. He run down an' jumped in the +boat, an' 'nen—'nen—"</p> +<p>"Then what?" exploded Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"He kissed her!"</p> +<p>"The d—— murderer!" roared Crow.</p> +<p>"He grabbed up the oars and rowed 'cross an' downstream. An' he +shuck his fist at me when he see I'd been watchin'," said the +youngster, ready to whimper now that he realised what a desperate +character he had been dealing with.</p> +<p>"Where did he land on the other side?" pursued the eager +reporter.</p> +<p>"Down by them willer trees, 'bout half a mile down. There's the +skift tied to a saplin'. Cain't you see it?"</p> +<p>Sure enough, the stern of a small boat stuck out into the deep, +broad river, the bow being hidden by the bushes.</p> +<p>"Both of 'em hurried up the hill over yender, an' that's the +last I seen of 'em," concluded the lad.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow and his man-hunters stared helplessly at the +broad, swift river, and then looked at each other in despair. There +was no boat in sight except the murderer's, and there was no bridge +within ten miles.</p> +<p>While they were growling a belated detachment of hunters came up +to the river bank greatly agitated.</p> +<p>"A telephone message has just come to town sayin' there would be +a thousand dollars reward," announced one of the late arrivals; and +instantly there was an imperative demand for boats.</p> +<p>"There's an old raft upstream a-ways," said the boy, "but I +don't know how many it will kerry. They use it to pole corn over +from Mr. Knoblock's farm to them big summer places in the hills up +yender."</p> +<p>"Is it sound?" demanded Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"Must be or they wouldn't use it," said Squires sarcastically. +"Where is it, kid?"</p> +<p>The boy led the way up the river bank, the whole company +trailing behind.</p> +<p>"Sh! Not too loud," cautioned Anderson Crow. Fifteen minutes +later a wobbly craft put out to sea, manned by a picked crew of +determined citizens of Tinkletown. When they were in midstream a +loud cry came from the bank they had left behind. Looking back, +Anderson Crow saw excited men dashing about, most of them pointing +excitedly up into the hills across the river. After a diligent +search the eyes of the men on the raft saw what it was that had +created such a stir at the base of Crow's Cliff.</p> +<p>"There he is!" cried Anderson Crow in awed tones. There was no +mistaking the identity of the coatless man on the hillside. A dozen +men recognised him as the man they were after. Putting his hands to +his mouth, Anderson Crow bellowed in tones that savoured more of +fright than command:</p> +<p>"Say!"</p> +<p>There was no response.</p> +<p>"Will you surrender peaceably?" called the captain of the +craft.</p> +<p>There was a moment of indecision on the part of the fugitive. He +looked at his companion, and she shook her head—they all saw +her do it.</p> +<p>Then he shouted back his reply.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/031.jpg" width="30%" alt="" +title="" /><br /> +<b>Then he shouted back his reply</b></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3><i>The Culprits</i></h3> +<p>"Ship ahoy!" shouted the coatless stranger between his +palms.</p> +<p>"Surrender or we'll fill you full of lead!" called Anderson +Crow.</p> +<p>"Who are you—pirates?" responded the fugitive with a laugh +that chilled the marrow of the men on the raft.</p> +<p>"I'll show you who we are!" bellowed Anderson Crow. "Send her +ashore, boys, fast. The derned scamp sha'n't escape us. Dead er +alive, we must have him."</p> +<p>As they poled toward the bank the woman grasped the man by the +arm, dragging him back among the trees. It was observed by all that +she was greatly terrified. Moreover, she was exceedingly fair to +look upon—young, beautiful, and a most incongruous companion +for the bloody rascal who had her in his power. The raft bumped +against the reedy bank, and Anderson Crow was the first man +ashore.</p> +<p>"Come on, boys; follow me! See that your guns are all right! +Straight up the hill now, an' spread out a bit so's we can surround +him!" commanded he in a high treble.</p> +<p>"'But supposin' he surrounds us," panted a cautious pursuer, +half way up the hill.</p> +<p>"That's what we've got to guard against," retorted Anderson +Crow. The posse bravely swept up to and across the greensward; but +the fox was gone: There was no sight or sound of him to be had. It +is but just to say that fatigue was responsible for the deep breath +that came from each member of the pursuing party.</p> +<p>"Into the woods after him!" shouted Anderson Crow. "Hunt him +down like a rat!"</p> +<p>In the meantime a coatless young man and a most enticing young +woman were scampering off among the oaks and underbrush, consumed +by excitement and no small degree of apprehension.</p> +<p>"They really seem to be in earnest about it, Jack," urged the +young woman insistently, to offset his somewhat sarcastic +comments.</p> +<p>"How the dickens do you suppose they got onto me?" he groaned. +"I thought the tracks were beautifully covered. No one suspected, +I'm sure."</p> +<p>"I told you, dear, how it would turn out," she cried in a +panic-stricken voice.</p> +<p>"Good heavens, Marjory, don't turn against me! It all seemed so +easy and so sure, dear. There wasn't a breath of suspicion. What +are we to do? I'll stop and fight the whole bunch if you'll just +let go my arm."</p> +<p>"No, you won't, Jack Barnes!" she exclaimed resolutely, her +pretty blue eyes wide with alarm. "Didn't you hear them say they'd +fill you full of lead? They had guns and everything. Oh, dear! oh, +dear! isn't it horrid?"</p> +<p>"The worst of it is they've cut us off from the river," he said +miserably. "If I could have reached the boat ahead of them they +never could have caught us. I could distance that old raft in a +mile."</p> +<p>"I know you could, dear," she cried, looking with frantic +admiration upon his broad shoulders and brawny bare arms. "But it +is out of the question now."</p> +<p>"Never mind, sweetheart; don't let it fuss you so. It will turn +out all right, I know it will."</p> +<p>"Oh, I can't run any farther," she gasped despairingly.</p> +<p>"Poor little chap! Let me carry you?"</p> +<p>"You big ninny!"</p> +<p>"We are at least three miles from your house, dear, and +surrounded by deadly perils. Can you climb a tree?"</p> +<p>"I can—but I won't!" she refused flatly, her cheeks very +red.</p> +<p>"Then I fancy we'll have to keep on in this manner. It's a +confounded shame—the whole business. Just as I thought +everything was going so smoothly, too. It was all arranged to a +queen's taste—nothing was left undone. Bracken was to meet us +at his uncle's boathouse down there, and—good heavens, there +was a shot!"</p> +<p>The sharp crack of a rifle broke upon the still, balmy air, as +they say in the "yellow-backs," and the fugitives looked at each +other with suddenly awakened dread.</p> +<p>"The fools!" grated the man.</p> +<p>"What do they mean?" cried the breathless girl, very white in +the face.</p> +<p>"They are trying to frighten us, that's all. Hang it! If I only +knew the lay of the land. I'm completely lost, Marjory. Do you know +precisely where we are?"</p> +<p>"Our home is off to the north about three miles. We are almost +opposite Crow's Cliff—the wildest part of the country. There +are no houses along this part of the river. All of the summer +houses are farther up or on the other side. It is too hilly here. +There is a railroad off there about six miles. There isn't a +boathouse or fisherman's hut nearer than two miles. Mr. Bracken +keeps his boat at the point—two miles south, at least."</p> +<p>"Yes; that's where we were to have gone—by boat. Hang it +all! Why did we ever leave the boat? You can never scramble through +all this brush to Bracken's place; it's all I can do. Look at my +arms! They are scratched to—"</p> +<p>"Oh, dear! It's dreadful, Jack. You poor fellow, let +me—"</p> +<p>"We haven't time, dearest. By thunder, I wouldn't have those +Rubes head us off now for the whole county. The jays! How could +they have found us out?"</p> +<p>"Some one must have told."</p> +<p>"But no one knew except the Brackens, you and I."</p><p>"I'll wager my +head Bracken is saying hard things for fair down the river +there."</p> +<p>"He—he—doesn't swear, Jack," she panted.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i036.jpg" id="i036.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/036.jpg"><img src="images/036.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"'Safe for a minute or two at least,' he whispered"</b></div> +<p>"Why, you are ready to drop! Can't you go a step farther? Let's +stop here and face 'em. I'll bluff 'em out and we'll get to +Bracken's some way. But I <i>won't</i> give up the game! Not for a +million!"</p> +<p>"Then we can't stop. You forget I go in for gymnasium work. I'm +as strong as anything, only I'm—I'm a bit nervous. Oh, I knew +something would go wrong!" she wailed. They were now standing like +trapped deer in a little thicket, listening for sounds of the +hounds.</p> +<p>"Are you sorry, dear?"</p> +<p>"No, no! I love you, Jack, and I'll go through everything with +you and for you. Really," she cried with a fine show of enthusiasm, +"this is jolly good fun, isn't it? Being chased like regular +bandits—"</p> +<p>"Sh! Drop down, dear! There's somebody passing above +us—hear him?"</p> +<p>They crawled into a maze of hazel bushes with much less dignity +than haste. Two men sped by an instant later, panting and +growling.</p> +<p>"Safe for a minute or two at least," he whispered as the +crunching footsteps were lost to the ear. "They won't come back +this way, dear."</p> +<p>"They had guns, Jack!" she whispered, terrified.</p> +<p>"I don't understand it, hanged if I do," he said, pulling his +brows into a mighty scowl. "They are after us like a pack of +hounds. It must mean something. Lord, but we seem to have stirred +up a hornet's nest!"</p> +<p>"Oh, dear, I wish we were safely at—" she paused.</p> +<p>"At home?" he asked quickly.</p> +<p>"At Bracken's," she finished; and if any of the pursuers had +been near enough he might have heard the unmistakable suggestion of +a kiss.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/039.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"I feel better," he said, squaring his shoulders. "Now, let me +think. We must outwit these fellows, whoever they are. By George, I +remember one of them! That old fellow who bought the horse is with +them. That's it! The horse is mixed up in this, I'll bet my head." +They sat upon the ground for several minutes, he thinking deeply, +she listening with her pretty ears intent.</p> +<p>"I wonder if they've left anybody to guard our boat?" he said +suddenly. "Come on, Marjory; let's investigate! By George, it would +be just like them to leave it unprotected!"</p> +<p>Once more they were moving cautiously through the brush, headed +for the river. Mr. Jack Barnes, whoever he was and whatever his +crime, was a resourceful, clever young man. He had gauged the +intelligence of the pursuers correctly. When he peered through the +brush along the river bank he saw the skiff in the reeds below, +just as they had left it. There was the lunch basket, the wee bit +of a steamer trunk with all its labels, a parasol and a small +handbag.</p> +<p>"Goody, goody!" Marjory cried like a happy child.</p> +<p>"Don't show yourself yet, dearie. I'll make sure. They may have +an ambuscade. Wait here for me."</p> +<p>He crept down the bank and back again before she could fully +subdue the tremendous thumping his temerity had started in her left +side.</p> +<p>"It's safe and sound," he whispered joyously. "The idiots have +forgotten the boat. Quick, dear; let's make a dash for it! Their +raft is upstream a hundred yards, and it is also deserted. If we +can once get well across the river we can give them the laugh."</p> +<p>"But they may shoot us from the bank," she protested as they +plunged through the weeds.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/040.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"They surely wouldn't shoot a woman!" he cried gayly.</p> +<p>"But you are not a woman!"</p> +<p>"And I'm not afraid of mice or men. Jump in!"</p> +<p>Off from the weeds shot the light skiff. The water splashed for +a moment under the spasmodic strokes of the oarsman, and then the +little boat streaked out into the river like a thing of life. +Marjory sat in the stern and kept her eyes upon the bank they were +leaving. Jack Barnes drove every vestige of his strength into the +stroke; somehow he pulled like a man who had learned how on a +college crew. They were half way across the broad river before they +were seen from the hills. The half dozen men who lingered at the +base of Crow's Cliff had shouted the alarm to their friends on the +other side, and the fugitives were sighted once more. But it was +too late. The boat was well out of gunshot range and making rapid +progress downstream in the shelter of the high bluffs below Crow's +Cliff. Jack Barnes was dripping with perspiration, but his stroke +was none the feebler.</p> +<p>"They see us!" she cried.</p> +<p>"Don't wriggle so, Marjory—trim boat!" he panted. "They +can't hit us, and we can go two miles to their one."</p> +<p>"And we can get to Bracken's!" she cried triumphantly. A deep +flush overspread her pretty face.</p> +<p>"Hooray!" he shouted with a grin of pure delight. Far away on +the opposite bank Anderson Crow and his sleuths were congregating, +their baffled gaze upon the man who had slipped out of their grasp. +The men of the posse were pointing at the boat and arguing +frantically; there were decided signs of dispute among them. +Finally two guns flew up, and then came the puffs of smoke, the +reports and little splashes of water near the flying skiff.</p> +<p>"Oh, they are shooting!" she cried in a panic.</p> +<p>"And rifles, too," he grated, redoubling his pull on the oars. +Other shots followed, all falling short. "Get down in the bottom of +the boat, Marjory. Don't sit up there and be—"</p> +<p>"I'll sit right where I am," she cried defiantly.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow waved to the men under Crow's Cliff, and they +began to make their arduous way along the bank in the trail of the +skiff. Part of the armed posse hurried down and boarded the raft, +while others followed the chase by land.</p> +<p>"We'll beat them to Bracken's by a mile," cried Jack Barnes.</p> +<p>"If they don't shoot us," she responded. "Why, oh, why are they +so intent upon killing us?"</p> +<p>"They don't want you to be a widow and—break a—lot +of hearts," he said. "If they—hit me now you—won't +be—dangerous as a—widow."</p> +<p>"Oh, you heartless thing! How can you jest about it? +I'd—I'd go into mourning, anyway, Jack," she concluded, on +second thought. "We are just as good as married, you see."</p> +<p>"It's nice—of you to say it, dear—but we're a +long—way from—Bracken's. Gee! That was close!"</p> +<p>A bullet splashed in the water not ten feet from the boat. "The +cowards! They're actually trying to kill us!" For the first time +his face took on a look of alarm and his eyes grew desperate. "I +can't let them shoot at you, Marjory, dear! What the dickens they +want I don't know, but I'm going to surrender." He had stopped +rowing and was making ready to wave his white handkerchief on +high.</p> +<p>"Never!" she cried with blazing eyes. "Give me the oars!" She +slid into the other rowing seat and tried to snatch the oars from +the rowlocks.</p> +<p>"Bravo! I could kiss you a thousand times for that. Come on, you +Indians! You're a darling, Marjory." Again the oars caught the +water, and Jack Barnes's white handkerchief lay in the bottom of +the boat. He was rowing for dear life, and there was a smile on his +face.</p> +<p>The raft was left far behind and the marksmen were put out of +range with surprising ease. Fifteen minutes later the skiff shot +across the river and up to the landing of Bracken's boathouse, +while a mile back in the brush Anderson Crow and his men were +wrathfully scrambling in pursuit.</p> +<p>"Hey, Bracken! Jimmy!" shouted Jack Barnes, jumping out upon the +little wharf. Marjory gave him her hands and was whisked ashore and +into his arms. "Run into the boathouse, dear. I'll yank this stuff +ashore. Where the dickens is Bracken?"</p> +<p>The boathouse door opened slowly and a sleepy young man looked +forth.</p> +<p>"I thought you'd never come," he yawned.</p> +<p>"Wake up, you old loafer! We're here and we are pursued! Where +are George and Amy?" cried Mr. Barnes, doing herculean duty as a +baggage smasher.</p> +<p>"Pursued?" cried the sleepy young man, suddenly awake.</p> +<p>"Yes, and shot at!" cried Marjory, running past him and into the +arms of a handsome young woman who was emerging from the house.</p> +<p>"We've no time to lose, Jimmy! They are on to us, Heaven knows +how. They are not more than ten minutes behind us. Get it over +with, Jimmy, for Heaven's sake! Here, George, grab this trunk!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3><i>Anderson Rectifies an Error</i></h3> +<p>In a jiffy the fugitives and their property were transferred to +the interior of the roomy boathouse, the doors bolted, and George +Crosby stationed at a window to act as lookout.</p> +<p>"Is it your father?" demanded the Rev. James Bracken, turning to +Marjory. Young Mrs. Crosby was looking on eagerly.</p> +<p>"Mr. Brewster is at home and totally oblivious to all this," +cried Jack Barnes. "I don't know what it means. Here's the license, +Jimmy. Are you ready, Marjory?"</p> +<p>"This is rather a squeamish business, Jack—" began the +young minister in the negligée shirt. He was pulling on his +coat as he made the remark.</p> +<p>"Oh, hurry, Jimmy; please hurry!" cried Marjory Brewster.</p> +<p>"Don't wait a second, Jimmy Bracken!" cried Amy Crosby, dancing +with excitement. "You can't go back on them now!"</p> +<p>Three minutes later there was no Marjory Brewster, but there was +a Mrs. John Ethelbert Barnes—and she was kissing her husband +rapturously.</p> +<p>"Now, tell us everything," cried Mrs. Crosby after the frantic +congratulations. The Reverend "Jimmy" Bracken, of the Eleventh +Presbyterian Church, was the only one who seemed uncertain as to +his position. In the first place, old Judge Brewster was a man of +influence in the metropolis, from which all had fled for a sojourn +in the hills. He and his daughter were Episcopalians, but that made +them none the less important in the eyes of "Jimmy" Bracken. In the +second place, Jack Barnes was a struggling lawyer, in the Year of +our Lord 1880, and possessed of objectionable poverty. The young +men had been room-mates at college. Friendship had overcome +discretion in this instance, at least. The deed being done, young +Mr. Bracken was beginning to wonder if it had not been overdone, so +to speak.</p> +<p>"I wish somebody would tell me!" exclaimed Jack Barnes, with a +perplexed frown. "The beastly jays shot at us and all that. You'd +think I was an outlaw. And they blazed away at Marjory, too, hang +them!"</p> +<p>Marjory, too excited to act like a blushing bride, took up the +story and told all that had happened. George Crosby became so +interested that he forgot to keep guard.</p> +<p>"This is a funny mess!" he exclaimed. "There's something +wrong—"</p> +<p>"Hey, you!" came a shout from the outside.</p> +<p>"There they are!" cried Marjory, flying to her husband's side. +"What are we to do?"</p> +<p>"You mean, what are they to do? We're married, and they can't +get around that, you know. Let 'em come!" cried the groom +exultantly. "You don't regret it, do you, sweetheart?" quite +anxiously. She smiled up into his eyes, and he felt very +secure.</p> +<p>"What do you fellows want?" demanded Crosby from the window. +Anderson Crow was standing on the river bank like a true Napoleon, +flanked by three trusty riflemen.</p> +<p>"Who air you?" asked Anderson in return. He was panting heavily, +and his legs trembled.</p> +<p>"None of your business! Get off these grounds at once; they're +private!"</p> +<p>"None o' your sass, now, young man; I'm an officer of the law, +an' a detective to boot! We sha'n't stand any nonsense. The place +is surrounded and he can't escape! Where is he?"</p> +<p>"That's for you to find out if you're such a good detective! +This is David Bracken's place, and you can find him at his home on +the hilltop yonder!"</p> +<p>"Ask him what we've done, George," whispered Barnes.</p> +<p>"We ain't after Mr. Bracken, young feller, but you know what we +<i>do</i> want! He's in there—you're shielding him—we +won't parley much longer! Send him out!" said Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"If you come a foot nearer you'll get shot into the middle of +kingdom come!" shouted Crosby defiantly.</p> +<p>The inmates gasped, for there was not a firearm on the +place.</p> +<p>"Be careful!" warned the Reverend "Jimmy" nervously.</p> +<p>"Goin' to resist, eh? Well, we'll get him; don't you worry; an' +that ornery female o' hisn', too!"</p> +<p>"Did you hear that?" exclaimed Jack Barnes. "Let me get at the +old rat." He was making for the door when the two women obstructed +the way. Both were frantic with fear.</p> +<p>"But he called you a female!" roared he.</p> +<p>"Well, I <i>am</i>!" she wailed miserably.</p> +<p>"Who is it you want?" asked Crosby from the window.</p> +<p>"That's all right," roared Anderson Crow; "purduce him at +once!"</p> +<p>"Is this the fellow?" and Crosby dragged the Reverend "Jimmy" +into view. There was a moment's inspection of the cadaverous face, +and then the sleuths shook their heads.</p> +<p>"Not on your life!" said Mr. Crow. "But he's in there—Ike +Smalley seen him an' his paramount go up the steps from the +landin'! 'Twon't do no good to hide him, young feller; +he's—"</p> +<p>"Well, let me tell you something. You are too late—they're +married!" cried Crosby triumphantly.</p> +<p>"I don't give a cuss if they're married and have sixteen +children!" shouted the exasperated Crow, his badge fairly dancing. +"He's got to surrender!"</p> +<p>"Oh, he does, eh?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir-ee-o-bob; he's got to give up, dead or alive! Trot him +out lively, now!"</p> +<p>"I don't mind telling you that Mr. Barnes is here; but I'd like +to know why you're hunting him down like a wild beast, shooting at +him and Miss—I mean Mrs. Barnes. It's an outrage!"</p> +<p>"Oh, we ain't the on'y people that can kill and slaughter! She's +just as bad as he is, for that matter—an' so are you and that +other lantern-jawed outlaw in there." The Reverend "Jimmy" gasped +and turned a fiery red.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/049.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Did he call me a—say!" and he pushed Crosby aside. "I'd +have you to understand that I'm a minister of the gospel—I am +the Reverend James Bracken, of—"</p> +<p>A roar of laughter greeted his attempt to explain; and there +were a few remarks so uncomplimentary that the man of cloth sank +back in sheer hopelessness.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll give them reason to think that I'm something of a +desperado," grated the Reverend "Jimmy," squaring his shoulders. +"If they attempt to put foot inside my uncle's house +I'll—I'll smash a few heads."</p> +<p>"Bravo!" cried Mrs. Crosby. She was his cousin, and up to that +time had had small regard for her mild-mannered relative.</p> +<p>"He can preach the funeral!" shouted Ike Smalley. By this time +there were a dozen men on the bank below.</p> +<p>"I give you fair warning," cried Anderson Crow impressively. +"We're goin' to surround the house, an' we'll take that rascal if +we have to shoot the boards into sawdust!"</p> +<p>"But what has he done, except to get married?" called Crosby as +the posse began to spread out.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/050.jpg" width="40%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Do you s'pose I'm fool enough to tell you if you don't know?" +said Anderson Crow. "Just as like as not you'd be claimin' the +thousand dollars reward if you knowed it had been offered! Spread +out, boys, an' we'll show 'em dern quick!"</p> +<p>There was dead silence inside the house for a full minute. Every +eye was wide and every mouth was open in surprise and +consternation.</p> +<p>"A thousand dollars reward!" gasped Jack Barnes. "Then, good +Lord, I <i>must</i> have done something!"</p> +<p>"What <i>have</i> you been doing, Jack Barnes?" cried his bride, +aghast.</p> +<p>"I must have robbed a train," said he dejectedly.</p> +<p>"Well, this is serious, after all," said Crosby. "It's not an +eloper they're after, but a desperado."</p> +<p>"A kidnaper, perhaps," suggested his wife.</p> +<p>"What are we to do?" demanded Jack Barnes.</p> +<p>"First, old man, what have you actually done?" asked the +Reverend "Jimmy."</p> +<p>"Nothing that's worth a thousand dollars, I'm dead sure," said +Barnes positively. "By George, Marjory, this is a nice mess I've +led you into!"</p> +<p>"It's all right, Jack; I'm happier than I ever was before in my +life. We ran away to get married, and I'll go to jail with you if +they'll take me."</p> +<p>"This is no time for kissing," objected Crosby sourly. "We must +find out what it all means. Leave it to me."</p> +<p>It was getting dark in the room, and the shadows were heavy on +the hills. While the remaining members of the besieged party sat +silent and depressed upon the casks and boxes, Crosby stood at the +window calling to the enemy.</p> +<p>"Is he ready to surrender?" thundered Anderson Crow from the +shadows.</p> +<p>Then followed a brief and entirely unsatisfactory dialogue +between the two spokesmen. Anderson Crow was firm in his decision +that the fugitive did not have to be told what he had done; and +George Crosby was equally insistent that he had to be told before +he could decide whether he was guilty or innocent.</p> +<p>"We'll starve him out!" said Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"But there are ladies here, my good man; you won't subject them +to such treatment!"</p> +<p>"You're all of a kind—we're going to take the whole +bunch!"</p> +<p>"What do you think will happen to you if you are mistaken in +your man?"</p> +<p>"We're not mistaken, dang ye!"</p> +<p>"He could sue you for every dollar you possess. I know, for I'm +a lawyer!"</p> +<p>"Now, I'm sure you're in the job with him. I s'pose you'll try +to work in the insanity dodge! It's a nest of thieves and robbers! +Say, I'll give you five minutes to surrender; if you don't, we'll +set fire to the derned shanty!"</p> +<p>"Look here, boys," said Jack Barnes suddenly, "I've done nothing +and am not afraid to be arrested. I'm going to give myself up." Of +course there was a storm of protest and a flow of tears, but the +culprit was firm. "Tell the old fossil that if he'll guarantee +safety to me I'll give up!"</p> +<p>Anderson was almost too quick in promising protection.</p> +<p>"Ask him if he will surrender and make a confession to +me—I am Anderson Crow, sir!" was the marshal's tactful +suggestion.</p> +<p>"He'll do both, Mr. Crow!" replied Crosby.</p> +<p>"We've got to take the whole bunch of you, young man. You're all +guilty of conspiracy, the whole caboodle!"</p> +<p>"But the ladies, you darned old Rube—they +can't—"</p> +<p>"Looky here, young feller, you can't dictate to me. I'll have +you to—"</p> +<p>"We'll all go!" cried Mrs. Crosby warmly.</p> +<p>"To the very end!" added the new Mrs. Barnes.</p> +<p>"What will your father say?" demanded the groom.</p> +<p>"He'll disown me anyway, dear, so what's the difference?"</p> +<p>"It's rather annoying for a minister—" began the Reverend +"Jimmy," putting on his hat.</p> +<p>"We'll beg off for you!" cried Mrs. Crosby ironically.</p> +<p>"But I'm going to jail, too," finished he grimly.</p> +<p>"All right," called Crosby from the window; "here we come!"</p> +<p>And forth marched the desperate quintet, three strapping young +men and two very pretty and nervous young women. They were met by +Anderson Crow and a dozen armed men from Tinkletown, every one of +them shaking in his boots. The irrepressible Mrs. Crosby said +"Boo!" suddenly, and half the posse jumped as though some one had +thrown a bomb at them.</p> +<p>"Now, I demand an explanation of this outrage," said Jack Barnes +savagely. "What do you mean by shooting at me and my—my wife +and arresting us, and all that?"</p> +<p>"You'll find out soon enough when you're strung up fer it," +snarled Anderson Crow. "An' you'll please hand over that money I +paid fer the hoss and buggy. I'll learn you how to sell stolen +property to me."</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm a horse-thief, am I? This is rich. And they'll string +me up, eh? Next thing you'll be accusing me of killing that farmer +up near Boggs City."</p> +<p>"Well, by gosh! you're a cool one!" ejaculated Anderson Crow. "I +s'pose you're goin' ter try the insanity dodge."</p> +<p>"It's lucky for me that they caught him," said Barnes as the +herd of prisoners moved off toward the string of boats tied to Mr. +Bracken's wharf.</p> +<p>"Come off!" exclaimed Squires, the reporter, scornfully. "We're +onto you, all right, all right."</p> +<p>"What! Do you think I'm the man who—well, holy mackerel! +Say, you gravestones, don't you ever hear any news out here? Wake +up! They caught the murderer at Billsport, not more than five miles +from your jay burg. I was driving through the town when they +brought him in. That's what made me late, dear," turning to +Marjory.</p> +<p>"Yes, and I'll bet my soul that here comes some one with the +news," cried George Crosby, who had heard nothing of the tragedy +until this instant.</p> +<p>A rowboat containing three men was making for the landing. +Somehow, Anderson Crow and his posse felt the ground sinking +beneath them. Not a man uttered a sound until one of the newcomers +called out from the boat:</p> +<p>"Is Anderson Crow there?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; what is it?" demanded Crow in a wobbly voice.</p> +<p>"Your wife wants to know when in thunder you're comin' home." By +this time the skiff was bumping against the landing.</p> +<p>"You tell her to go to Halifax!" retorted Anderson Crow. "Is +that all you want?"</p> +<p>"They nabbed that murderer up to Billsport long 'bout 'leven +o'clock," said Alf Reesling, the town drunkard. "We thought we'd +row down and tell you so's you wouldn't be huntin' all night for +the feller who—hello, you got him, eh?"</p> +<p>"Are you fellers lyin'?" cried poor Anderson Crow.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/055.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Not on your life. We knowed about the captcher over in town +just about half an hour after you started 'cross the river this +afternoon."</p> +<p>"You—four hours ago? You—you—" sputtered the +marshal. "An' why didn't you let us know afore this?"</p> +<p>"There was a game o' baseball in Hasty's lot, an'—" began +one of the newcomers sheepishly.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll be gosh-whizzled!" gasped Anderson Crow, sitting +down suddenly.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>An hour and a half later Mr. and Mrs. John Ethelbert Barnes were +driven up to Judge Brewster's country place in Mr. David Bracken's +brake. They were accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. George Crosby, and +were carrying out the plans as outlined in the original +programme.</p> +<p>"Where's papa?" Marjory tremulously inquired of the footman in +the hallway.</p> +<p>"He's waitin' for you in the library, miss—I should say +Mrs. Barnes," replied the man, a trace of excitement in his +face.</p> +<p>"Mrs. Barnes!" exclaimed four voices at once.</p> +<p>"Who told you, William?" cried Marjory, leaning upon Jack for +support.</p> +<p>"A Mr. Anderson Crow was here not half an hour ago, ma'am, to +assure Mr. Brewster as to how his new son-in-law was in nowise +connected with the murder up the way. He said as how he had +personally investigated the case, miss—ma'am, and Mr. +Brewster could rely on his word for it, Mr. Jack was not the man. +He told him as how you was married at the boathouse."</p> +<p>"Yes—and then?" cried Marjory eagerly.</p> +<p>"Mr. Brewster said that Mr. Jack wasn't born to be hanged, and +for me to have an extry plate laid at the table for him to-night," +concluded William with an expressive grin.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3><i>The Babe on the Doorstep</i></h3> +<p>It was midnight in Tinkletown, many months after the events +mentioned in the foregoing chapters, and a blizzard was raging. The +February wind rasped through the bare trees, shrieked around the +corners of lightless houses and whipped its way through the +scurrying snow with all the rage of a lion. The snow, on account of +the bitter cold in the air, did not fly in big flakes, but whizzed +like tiny bullets, cutting the flesh of men and beasts like the +sting of wasps. It was a good night to be indoors over a roaring +fire or in bed between extra blankets. No one, unless commanded by +emergency, had the temerity to be abroad that night.</p> +<p>The Crow family snoozed comfortably in spite of the calliope +shrieks of the wind. The home of the town marshal was blanketed in +peace and the wind had no terrors for its occupants. They slept the +sleep of the toasted. The windows may have rattled a bit, perhaps, +and the shutters may have banged a trifle too remorselessly, but +the Crows were not to be disturbed.</p> +<p>The big, old-fashioned clock in the hall downstairs was striking +twelve when Anderson Crow awoke with a start. He was amazed, for to +awake in the middle of the night was an unheard-of proceeding for +him. He caught the clang of the last five strokes from the clock, +however, and was comforting himself with the belief that it was +five o'clock, after all, when his wife stirred nervously.</p> +<p>"Are you awake, Anderson?" she asked softly.</p> +<p>"Yes, Eva, and it's about time to get up. It jest struck five. +Doggone, it's been blowin' cats and dogs outside, ain't it?" he +yawned.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/059.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Five? It's twelve-now, don't tell me you counted the strokes, +because I did myself. Ain't it queer we should both git awake at +this unearthly hour?"</p> +<p>"Well," murmured he sleepily now that it was not five o'clock, +"it's a mighty good hour to go back to sleep ag'in, I reckon."</p> +<p>"I thought I heard a noise outside," she persisted.</p> +<p>"I don't blame you," he said, chuckling. "It's been out there +all night."</p> +<p>"I mean something besides the wind. Sounded like some one +walkin' on the front porch."</p> +<p>"Now, look here, Eva, you ain't goin' to git me out there in +this blizzard—in my stockin' feet—lookin' fer +robbers—"</p> +<p>"Just the same, Anderson, I'm sure I heard some one. Mebby it's +some poor creature freezin' an' in distress. If I was you, I'd go +and look out there. Please do."</p> +<p>"Doggone, Eva, if you was me you'd be asleep instid of huntin' +up trouble on a night like this. They ain't nothin' down there an' +you—but, by cracky! mebby you're right. Supposin' there is +some poor cuss out there huntin' a place to sleep. I'll go and +look;" and Mr. Crow, the most tender-hearted man in the world, +crawled shiveringly but quickly from the warm bed. In his stocking +feet—Anderson slept in his socks on those bitter +nights—he made his way down the front stairs, grumbling but +determined. Mrs. Crow followed close behind, anxious to verify the +claim that routed him from his nest.</p> +<p>"It may be a robber," she chattered, as he pulled aside a front +window curtain. Anderson drew back hastily.</p> +<p>"Well, why in thunder didn't you say so before?" he gasped. +"Doggone, Eva, that's no way to do! He might 'a' fired through the +winder at me."</p> +<p>"But he's in the house by this time, if it was a robber," she +whispered. "He wouldn't stand out on the porch all night."</p> +<p>"That's right," he whispered in reply. "You're a good deducer, +after all. I wish I had my dark lantern. Thunderation!" He stubbed +his toe against the sewing machine. There is nothing that hurts +more than unintentional contact with a sewing machine. "Why in +sixty don't you light a light, Eva? How can I—"</p> +<p>"Listen!" she whispered shrilly. "Hear that? Anderson, there's +some one walkin' on the porch!"</p> +<p>"'y gosh!" faltered he. "Sure as Christmas! You wait here, Eva, +till I go upstairs an' put on my badge and I'll—"</p> +<p>"I'll do nothing of the kind. You don't ketch me stayin' down +here alone," and she grabbed the back of his nightshirt as he +started for the stairs.</p> +<p>"Sho! What air you afeerd of? I'll get my revolver, too. I never +did see such a coward'y calf as—"</p> +<p>Just then there was a tremendous pounding on the front door, +followed by the creaking of footsteps on the frozen porch, a +clatter down the steps, and then the same old howling of the wind. +The Crows jumped almost out of their scanty garments, and then +settled down as if frozen to the spot. It was a full minute before +Anderson found his voice—in advance of Mrs. Crow at that, +which was more than marvellous.</p> +<p>"What was that?" he chattered.</p> +<p>"A knock!" she gasped.</p> +<p>"Some neighbour's sick."</p> +<p>"Old Mrs. Luce. Oh, goodness, how my heart's going!"</p> +<p>"Why don't you open the door, Eva?"</p> +<p>"Why don't you? It's your place."</p> +<p>"But, doggone it, cain't you see—I mean feel—that I +ain't got hardly any clothes on? I'd ketch my death o' cold, an' +besides—"</p> +<p>"Well, I ain't got as much on as you have. You got socks on +an'—"</p> +<p>"But supposin' it's a woman," protested he. "You wouldn't want a +woman to see me lookin' like this, would you? Go ahead +an'—"</p> +<p>"I suppose you'd like to have a man see me like this. I ain't +used to receivin' men in—but, say, whoever it was, is gone. +Didn't you hear the steps? Open the door, Anderson. See what it +is."</p> +<p>And so, after much urging, Anderson Crow unbolted his front door +and turned the knob. The wind did the rest. It almost blew the door +off its hinges, carrying Mr. and Mrs. Crow back against the wall. A +gale of snow swept over them.</p> +<p>"Gee!" gasped Anderson, crimping his toes. Mrs. Crow was peering +under his arm.</p> +<p>"Look there!" she cried. Close to the door a large bundle was +lying.</p> +<p>"A present from some one!" speculated Mr. Crow; but some seconds +passed before he stooped to pick it up. "Funny time fer Santy to be +callin' 'round. Wonder if he thinks it's next Christmas."</p> +<p>"Be careful, Anderson; mebby it's an infernal machine!" cried +his wife.</p> +<p>"Well, it's loaded, 'y ginger," he grunted as straightened up in +the face of the gale. "Shut the door, Eva! Cain't you see it's +snowin'?"</p> +<p>"I'll bet it was Joe Ramsey leavin' a sack o' hickor' nuts fer +us," she said eagerly, slamming the door.</p> +<p>"You better bolt the door. He might change his mind an' come +back fer 'em," observed her husband. "It don't feel like hickor' +nuts. Why, Eva, it's a baskit—a reg'lar clothes baskit. What +in thunder do—"</p> +<p>"Let's get a light out by the kitchen fire. It's too cold in +here."</p> +<p>Together they sped to the kitchen with the mysterious offering +from the blizzard. There was a fire in the stove, which Anderson +replenished, while Eva began to remove the blankets and packing +from the basket, which she had placed on the hearth. Anderson +looked on eagerly.</p> +<p>"Lord!" fell from the lips of both as the contents of the basket +were exposed to their gaze.</p> +<p>A baby, alive and warm, lay packed in the blankets, sound asleep +and happy. For an interminable length of time the Crows, <i>en +dishabille</i>, stood and gazed open-mouthed and awed at the little +stranger. Ten minutes later, after the ejaculations and surmises, +after the tears and expletives, after the whole house had been +aroused, Anderson Crow was plunging amiably but aimlessly through +the snowstorm in search of the heartless wretch who had deposited +the infant on his doorstep. His top boots scuttled up and down the +street, through yards and barn lots for an hour, but despite the +fact that he carried his dark lantern and trailed like an Indian +bloodhound, he found no trace of the wanton visitor. In the +meantime, Mrs. Crow, assisted by the entire family, had stowed the +infant, a six-weeks-old girl, into a warm bed, ministering to the +best of her ability to its meagre but vociferous wants. There was +no more sleep in the Crow establishment that night. The head of the +house roused a half dozen neighbours from their beds to tell them +of the astounding occurrence, with the perfectly natural result +that one and all hurried over to see the baby and to hear the +particulars.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/064.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Early next morning Tinkletown wagged with an excitement so +violent that it threatened to end in a municipal convulsion. +Anderson Crow's home was besieged. The snow in his front yard was +packed to an icy consistency by the myriad of footprints that fell +upon it; the interior of the house was "tracked" with mud and slush +and three window panes were broken by the noses of curious but +unwelcome spectators. Altogether, it was a sensation unequalled in +the history of the village. Through it all the baby blinked and +wept and cooed in perfect peace, guarded by Mrs. Crow and the +faithful progeny who had been left by the stork, and not by a +mysterious stranger.</p> +<p>The missionary societies wanted to do something heroic, but Mrs. +Crow headed them off; the sewing circle got ready to take charge of +affairs, but Mrs. Crow punctured the project; figuratively, the +churches ached for a chance to handle the infant, but Mrs. Crow +stood between. And all Tinkletown called upon Anderson Crow to +solve the mystery before it was a day older.</p> +<p>"It's purty hard to solve a mystery that's got six weeks' start +o' me," said Anderson despairingly, "but I'll try, you bet. The +doggone thing's got a parent or two somewhere in the universe, an' +I'll locate 'em er explode somethin'. I've got a private opinion +about it myself."</p> +<p>Whatever this private opinion might have been, it was not +divulged. Possibly something in connection with it might have +accounted for the temporary annoyance felt by nearly every +respectable woman in Tinkletown. The marshal eyed each and every +one of them, irrespective of position, condition or age, with a +gleam so accusing that the Godliest of them flushed and then turned +cold. So knowing were these equitable looks that before night every +woman in the village was constrained to believe the worst of her +neighbour, and almost as ready to look with suspicion upon +herself.</p> +<p>One thing was certain—business was at a standstill in +Tinkletown. The old men forgot their chess and checker games at the +corner store; young men neglected their love affairs; women forgot +to talk about each other; children froze their ears rather than +miss any of the talk that went about the wintry streets; everybody +was asking the question, "Whose baby is it?"</p> +<p>But the greatest sensation of all came late in the day when Mrs. +Crow, in going over the garments worn by the babe, found a note +addressed to Anderson Crow. It was stitched to the baby's dress, +and proved beyond question that the strange visitor of the night +before had selected not only the house, but the individual. The +note was to the point. It said:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"February 18, 1883.</p> +<p>"ANDERSON CROW: To your good and merciful care an unhappy +creature consigns this helpless though well-beloved babe. All the +world knows you to be a tender, loving, unselfish man and father. +The writer humbly, prayerfully implores you to care for this babe +as you would for one of your own. It is best that her origin be +kept a secret. Care for her, cherish her as your own, and at the +end of each year the sum of a thousand dollars will be paid to you +as long as she lives in your household as a member thereof. Do not +seek to find her parents. It would be a fool's errand. May God +bless you and yours, and may God care for and protect +Rosalie—the name she shall bear."</p> +</div> +<p>Obviously, there was no signature and absolutely no clew to the +identity of the writer. Two telegraph line repairers who had been +working near Crow's house during the night, repairing damage done +by the blizzard, gave out the news that they had seen a cloaked and +mysterious-looking woman standing near the Methodist Church just +before midnight, evidently disregarding the rage of the storm. The +sight was so unusual that the men paused and gazed at her for +several minutes. One of them was about to approach her when she +turned and fled down the side street near by.</p> +<p>"Was she carryin' a big bundle?" asked Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>The men replied in the negative.</p> +<p>"Then she couldn't have been the party wanted. The one we're +after certainly had a big bundle."</p> +<p>"But, Mr. Crow, isn't it possible that these men saw her after +she left the basket at—" began the Presbyterian minister.</p> +<p>"That ain't the way I deduce it," observed the town detective +tartly. "In the first place, she wouldn't 'a' been standin' 'round +like that if the job was over, would she? Wouldn't she 'a' been +streakin' out fer home? 'Course she would."</p> +<p>"She may have paused near the church to see whether you took the +child in," persisted the divine.</p> +<p>"But she couldn't have saw my porch from the back end of the +church."</p> +<p>"Nobody said she was standing back of the church," said the +lineman.</p> +<p>"What's that? You don't mean it?" cried Anderson, pulling out of +a difficulty bravely. "That makes all the difference in the world. +Why didn't you say she was in front of the church? Cain't you see +we've wasted time here jest because you didn't have sense 'nough +to—"</p> +<p>"Anybody ought to know it 'thout being told, you old Rube," +growled the lineman, who was from Boggs City.</p> +<p>"Here, now, sir, that will do you! I won't 'low no man +to—"</p> +<p>"Anderson, be quiet!" cautioned Mrs. Crow. "You'll wake the +baby!" This started a new train of thought in Anderson's perplexed +mind.</p> +<p>"Mebby she was waitin' there while some one—her husband, +fer instance—was leavin' the baskit," volunteered Isaac +Porter humbly.</p> +<p>"Don't bother me, Ike; I'm thinkin' of somethin' else," muttered +Anderson. "Husband nothin'! Do you s'pose she'd 'a' trusted that +baby with a fool husband on a terrible night like that? Ladies and +gentlemen, this here baby was left by a <i>female</i> resident of +this very town." His hearers gasped and looked at him wide-eyed. +"If she has a husband, he don't know he's the father of this here +baby. Don't you see that a woman couldn't 'a' carried a heavy +baskit any great distance? She couldn't 'a' packed it from Boggs +City er New York er Baltimore, could she? She wouldn't 'a' been +strong enough. No, siree; she didn't have far to come, folks. An' +she was a woman, 'cause ain't all typewritin' done by women? You +don't hear of men typewriters, do you? People wouldn't have 'em. +Now, the thing fer me to do first is to make a house-to-house +search to see if I c'n locate a typewritin' machine anywheres. Get +out of the way, Toby. Doggone you boys, anyhow, cain't you see I +want ter get started on this job?"</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson," said Harry Squires, the reporter, "I'd like to +ask if there is any one in Tinkletown, male or female, who can +afford to pay you a thousand dollars a year for taking care of that +kid?"</p> +<p>"What's that?" slowly oozed from Anderson's lips.</p> +<p>"You heard what I said. Say, don't you know you can bring up a +kid in this town for eleven or twelve dollars a year?"</p> +<p>"You don't know what you're talkin' about," burst from +Anderson's indignant lips, but he found instant excuse to retire +from the circle of speculators. A few minutes later he and his wife +were surreptitiously re-reading the note, both filled with the fear +that it said $10.00 instead of $1000.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3><i>Reflection and Deduction</i></h3> +<p>"By gum, it does say a thousand," cried Anderson, mightily +relieved. "Harry Squires is a fool. He said jest now that it could +be did fer eleven or twelve dollars. Don't you suppose, Eva, that +the mother of this here child knows what it costs to bring 'em up? +Of course she does. When I find her I'll prove it by her own lips +that she knows. But don't bother me any more, Eva; I got to git out +an' track her down. This is the greatest job I've had in +years."</p> +<p>"See here, Anderson," said his wife thoughtfully and somewhat +stealthily, "let's go slow about this thing. What do you want to +find her for?"</p> +<p>"Why—why, doggone it, Eva, what air you talkin' about?" +began he in amazement.</p> +<p>"Well, it's just this way: I don't think we can earn a thousand +dollars a year easier than takin' care of this child. Don't you +see? Suppose we keep her fer twenty years. That means twenty +thousand dollars, don't it? It beats a pension all to pieces."</p> +<p>"Well, by ginger!" gasped Anderson, vaguely comprehending. +"Fifty years would mean fifty thousand dollars, wouldn't it. Gee +whiz, Eva!"</p> +<p>"I don't imagine we can keep her that long."</p> +<p>"No," reflectively; "the chances are she'd want ter git married +inside of that time. They always—</p> +<p>"'Tain't that, Anderson. You an' me'd have to live to be more'n +a hundred years old."</p> +<p>"That's so. We ain't spring chickens, are we, deary?"</p> +<p>She put her hard, bony hand in his and there was a suspicion of +moisture in the kindly old eyes.</p> +<p>"I love to hear you call me 'deary,' Anderson. We never get too +old for that."</p> +<p>He coughed and then patted her hand rather confusedly. Anderson +had long since forgotten the meaning of sentiment, but he was +surprised to find that he had not forgotten how to love his +wife.</p> +<p>"Shucks!" he muttered bravely. "We'll be kissin' like a couple +of young jay birds first thing we know. Doggone if it ain't funny +how a baby, even if it is some one else's, kinder makes a feller +foolisher'n he intends to be." Hand in hand they watched the +sleeping innocent for several minutes. Finally the detective shook +himself and spoke:</p> +<p>"Well, Eva, I got to make a bluff at findin' out whose baby it +is, ain't I? My reputation's at stake. I jest have to +investigate."</p> +<p>"I don't see that any harm can come from that, Anderson," she +replied, and neither appreciated the sarcasm unintentionally +involved.</p> +<p>"I won't waste another minute," he announced promptly. "I will +stick to my theory that the parents live in Tinkletown."</p> +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" snorted Mrs. Crow disgustedly, and then left him +to cultivate the choleric anger her exclamation had inspired.</p> +<p>"Doggone, I wish I hadn't patted her hand," he lamented. "She +didn't deserve it. Consarn it, a woman's always doin' something to +spoil things."</p> +<p>And so he fared forth with his badges and stars, bent on duty, +but not accomplishment. All the town soon knew that he was +following a clew, but all the town was at sea concerning its +character, origin, and plausibility. A dozen persons saw him stop +young Mrs. Perkins in front of Lamson's store, and the same +spectators saw his feathers droop as she let loose her wrath upon +his head and went away with her nose in the air and her cheeks far +more scarlet than when Boreas kissed them, and all in response to a +single remark volunteered by the faithful detective. He entered +Lamson's store a moment later, singularly abashed and red in the +face.</p> +<p>"Doggone," he observed, seeing that an explanation was expected, +"she might 'a' knowed I was only foolin'."</p> +<p>A few minutes later he had Alf Reesling, the town sot, in a far +corner of the store talking to him in a most peremptory fashion. It +may be well to mention that Alf had so far forgotten himself as to +laugh at the marshal's temporary discomfiture at the hands of Mrs. +Perkins.</p> +<p>"Alf, have you been havin' another baby up to your house without +lettin' me know?" demanded Anderson firmly.</p> +<p>"Anderson," replied Alf, maudlin tears starting in his eyes, +"it's not kind of you to rake up my feelin's like this. You know I +been a widower fer three years."</p> +<p>"I want you to understand one thing, Alf Reesling. A detective +never <i>knows</i> anything till he proves it. Let me warn you, +sir, you are under suspicion. An' now, let me tell you one thing +more. Doggone your ornery hide, don't you ever laugh ag'in like you +did jest now er I'll—"</p> +<p>Just then the door flew open with a bang and Edna Crow, +Anderson's eldest, almost flopped into the store, her cap in her +hand, eyes starting from her head. She had run at top speed all the +way from home.</p> +<p>"Pop," she gasped. "Ma says fer you to hurry home! She says fer +you to <i>run</i>!"</p> +<p>Anderson covered the distance between Lamson's store and his own +home in record time. Indeed, Edna, flying as fast as her slim legs +could twinkle, barely beat her father to the front porch. It was +quite clear to Mr. Crow that something unusual had happened or Mrs. +Crow would not have summoned him so peremptorily.</p> +<p>She was in the hallway downstairs awaiting his arrival, visibly +agitated. Before uttering a word she dragged him into the little +sitting-room and closed the door. They were alone.</p> +<p>"Is it dead?" he panted.</p> +<p>"No, but what do you think, Anderson?" she questioned +excitedly.</p> +<p>"I ain't had time to think. You don't mean to say it has begun +to talk an' c'n tell who it is," he faltered.</p> +<p>"Heavens no—an' it only six weeks old."</p> +<p>"Well, then, what in thunder <i>has</i> happened?"</p> +<p>"A <i>detective</i> has been here."</p> +<p>"Good gosh!"</p> +<p>"Yes, a <i>real</i> detective. He's out there in the kitchen +gettin' his feet warm by the bake-oven. He says he's lookin' for a +six-weeks-old baby. Anderson, we're goin' to lose that twenty +thousand."</p> +<p>"Don't cry, Eva; mebby we c'n find another baby some day. Has he +seen the—the—it?" Anderson was holding to the +stair-post for support.</p> +<p>"Not yet, but he says he understands we've got one here that +ain't been <i>tagged</i>—that's what he said—'tagged.' +What does he mean by that?"</p> +<p>"Why—why, don't you see? Just as soon as he tags it, it's +<i>it</i>. Doggone, I wonder if it would make any legal difference +if I tagged it first."</p> +<p>"He's a queer-lookin' feller, Anderson. Says he's in disguise, +and he certainly looks like a regular scamp."</p> +<p>"I'll take a look at him an' ast fer his badge." Marshal Crow +paraded boldly into the kitchen, where the strange man was regaling +the younger Crows with conversation the while he partook +comfortably of pie and other things more substantial.</p> +<p>"Are you Mr. Crow?" he asked nonchalantly, as Anderson appeared +before him.</p> +<p>"I am. Who are you?"</p> +<p>"I am Hawkshaw, the detective," responded the man, his mouth +full of blackberry pie.</p> +<p>"Gee whiz!" gasped Anderson. "Eva, it's the celebrated +Hawkshaw."</p> +<p>"Right you are, sir. I'm after the kid."</p> +<p>"You'll have to identify it," something inspired Anderson to +say.</p> +<p>"Sure. That's easy. It's the one that was left on your doorstep +last night," said the man glibly.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess you're right," began Anderson disconsolately.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/075.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Boy or girl?" demanded Mrs. Crow, shrewdly and very quickly. +She had been inspecting the man more closely than before, and +woman's intuition was telling her a truth that Anderson overlooked. +Mr. Hawkshaw was not only very seedy, but very drunk.</p> +<p>"Madam," he responded loftily, "it is nothing but a mere +child."</p> +<p>"I'll give you jest one minute to get out of this house," said +Mrs. Crow sharply, to Anderson's consternation. "If you're not +gone, I'll douse you with this kettle of scalding water. Open the +back door, Edna. He sha'n't take his dirty self through my parlour +again. <i>Open that door, Edna!</i>"</p> +<p>Edna, half paralysed with astonishment, opened the kitchen door +just in time. Mr. Hawkshaw was not so drunk but he could recognise +disaster when it hovered near. As she lifted the steaming kettle +from the stove he made a flying leap for the door. The rush of air +that followed him as he shot through the aperture almost swept Edna +from her feet. In ten seconds the tattered Hawkshaw was scrambling +over the garden fence and making lively if inaccurate tracks +through last year's cabbage patch.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3><i>The Mysterious Visitor</i></h3> +<p>The entire Crow family watched him in stupefaction until he +disappeared down the lane that led to Hapgood's grove. It was then, +and not until then, that Anderson Crow took a breath.</p> +<p>"Good Lord, Eva, what do you mean?" he gasped.</p> +<p>"Mean?" she almost shrieked. "Anderson Crow, didn't you +recognise that feller? He ain't no more detective than you er me. +He's the self-same tramp that you put in the calaboose last week, +and the week before, too. I thought I'd seen his ugly face before. +He's—"</p> +<p>"Great jumpin' geeswax!" roared the town marshal. "I recollect +him now. He's the one that said he'd been exposed to smallpox an' +wanted to be kept where it was warm all winter. Well, I'll +be—I'll be—"</p> +<p>"Don't say it, pa. He said it fer you when he clumb over that +barb-wire fence out there," cried Edna gleefully.</p> +<p>Several days of anxiety and energy followed this interesting +episode. In that time two tramps attempted to obtain food and +shelter at Crow's home, one on the plea that he was the father of +the unfortunate child, the other as an officer for the Foundlings' +Home at Boggs City. Three babies were left on the +doorstep—two in one night—their fond mothers confessing +fessing by letters that they appreciated Anderson's well-known +charitable inclinations and implored him to care for their +offspring as if they were his own. The harassed marshal experienced +some difficulty in forcing the mothers to take back their +children.</p> +<p>In each instance he was reviled by the estimable ladies, all of +whom accused him of being utterly heartless. Mrs. Crow came to his +rescue and told the disappointed mothers that the scalding water +was ready for application if they did not take their baskets of +babies away on short order. It may be well for the reputation of +Tinkletown to mention that one of the donors was Mrs. Raspus, a +negro washerwoman who did work for the "dagoes" engaged in building +the railroad hard by; another was the wife of Antonio Galli, a +member of the grading gang, and the third was Mrs. Pool, the widow +of a fisherman who had recently drowned himself in drink.</p> +<p>It is quite possible that Anderson might have had the three +infants on his hands permanently had not the mothers been so eager +to know their fate. They appeared in person early the next morning +to see if the babies had frozen to death on the doorstep. Mrs. Pool +even went so far as to fetch some extra baby clothes which she had +neglected to drop with her male. Mrs. Raspus came for her basket, +claiming it was the only one she had in which to "tote" the washing +for the men.</p> +<p>After these annoying but enlivening incidents Anderson was +permitted to recover from his daze and to throw off symptoms of +nervous prostration. Tinkletown resumed its tranquil attitude and +the checker games began to thrive once more. Little Rosalie was a +week older than when she came, but it was five weeks before +anything happened to disturb the even tenor of the foster-father's +way. He had worked diligently in the effort to discover the parents +of the baby, but without result. Two or three exasperated husbands +in Tinkletown had threatened to blow his brains out if he persisted +in questioning their wives in his insinuating manner, and one of +the kitchen girls at the village inn threw a dishpan at him on the +occasion of his third visit of inquiry. A colored woman in the +employ of the Baptist minister denied that Rosalie was her child, +but when he insisted, agreed with fine sarcasm to "go over an' have +a look at it," after his assurance that it was perfectly white.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/079.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Eva, I've investigated the case thoroughly," he said at last, +"an' there is no solution to the mystery. The only thing I c'n +deduce is that the child is here an' we'll have to take keer of +her. Now, I wonder if that woman really meant it when she said we'd +have a thousand dollars at the end of each year. Doggone, I wish +the year was up, jest to see."</p> +<p>"We'll have to wait, Anderson, that's all," said Mrs. Crow. "I +love the baby so it can't matter much. I'm glad you're through +investigatin'. It's been most tryin' to me. Half the women in town +don't speak to me."</p> +<p>It was at the end of Rosalie's fifth week as a member of the +family that something happened. Late one night when Anderson opened +the front door to put out the cat a heavily veiled woman mounted +the steps and accosted him. In some trepidation he drew back and +would have closed the door but for her eager remonstrance.</p> +<p>"I must see you, Mr. Crow," she cried in a low, agitated +voice.</p> +<p>"Who are you?" he demanded. She was dressed entirely in +black.</p> +<p>"I came to see you about the baby."</p> +<p>"That won't do, madam. There's been three tramps here to +hornswoggle us an' I—"</p> +<p>"I <i>must</i> see her, Mr. Crow," pleaded the stranger, and he +was struck by the richness of her voice.</p> +<p>"Mighty queer, it seems to me," he muttered hesitatingly. "Are +you any kin to it?"</p> +<p>"I am very much interested."</p> +<p>"By giminy, I believe you're the one who left her here," cried +the detective. "Are you a typewriter?"</p> +<p>"I'll answer your questions if you'll allow me to step inside. +It is very cold out here."</p> +<p>Anderson Crow stood aside and the tall, black figure entered the +hall. He led her to the warm sitting-room and gave her a chair +before the "base-burner."</p> +<p>"Here, Mr. Crow, is an envelope containing two hundred and fifty +dollars. That proves my good faith. I cannot tell you who I am nor +what relation I bear to the baby. I am quite fully aware that you +will not undertake to detain me, for it is not an easy matter to +earn a thousand dollars a year in this part of the world. I am +going abroad next week and do not expect to return for a long, long +time. Try as I would, I could not go without seeing the child. I +will not keep you out of bed ten minutes, and you and your wife may +be present while I hold Rosalie in my arms. I know that she is in +good hands, and I have no intention of taking her away. Please call +Mrs. Crow."</p> +<p>Anderson was too amazed to act at once. He began to flounder +interrogatively, but the visitor abruptly checked him.</p> +<p>"You are wasting time, Mr. Crow, in attempting to question my +authority or identity. No one need know that I have made this +visit. You are perfectly secure in the promise to have a thousand +dollars a year; why should you hesitate? As long as she lives with +you the money is yours. I am advancing the amount you now hold in +order that her immediate wants may be provided for. You are not +required to keep an account of the money paid to you. There are +means of ascertaining at once whether she is being well cared for +and educated by you, and if it becomes apparent that you are not +doing your duty, she shall be removed from your custody. From time +to time you may expect written instructions from—from one who +loves her."</p> +<p>"I jest want to ast if you live in Tinkletown?" Anderson managed +to say.</p> +<p>"I do not," she replied emphatically.</p> +<p>"Well, then, lift your veil. If you don't live here I sha'n't +know you."</p> +<p>"I prefer to keep my face covered, Mr. Crow; believe me and +trust me. Please let me see her." The plea was so earnest that +Anderson's heart gave a great thump of understanding.</p> +<p>"By ginger, you are her mother!" he gasped. Mrs. Crow came in at +this juncture, and she was much quicker at grasping the situation +than her husband. It was in her mind to openly denounce the woman +for her heartlessness, but her natural thriftiness interposed. She +would do nothing that might remove the golden spoon from the family +mouth.</p> +<p>The trio stole upstairs and into the warm bedchamber. There, +with Anderson Crow and his wife looking on from a remote corner of +the room, the tall woman in black knelt beside the crib that had +housed a generation of Crows. The sleeping Rosalie did not know of +the soft kisses that swept her little cheek. She did not feel the +tears that fell when the visitor lifted her veil, nor did she hear +the whisperings that rose to the woman's lips.</p> +<p>"That is all," murmured the mysterious stranger at last, +dropping her veil as she arose. She staggered as she started for +the door, but recovered herself instantly. Without a word she left +the room, the Crows following her down the stairs in silence. At +the bottom she paused, and then extended her hands to the old +couple. Her voice faltered as she spoke.</p> +<p>"Let me clasp your hands and let me tell you that my love and my +prayers are forever for you and for that little one up there. Thank +you. I know you will be good to her. She is well born. Her blood is +as good as the best. Above all things, Mrs. Crow, she is not +illegitimate. You may easily suspect that her parents are wealthy +or they could not pay so well for her care. Some day the mystery +surrounding her will be cleared. It may not be for many years. I +can safely say that she will be left in your care for twenty years +at least. Some day you will know why it is that Rosalie is not +supposed to exist. God bless you."</p> +<p>She was gone before they could utter a word. They watched her +walk swiftly into the darkness; a few minutes later the sound of +carriage wheels suddenly broke upon the air. Anderson Crow and his +wife stood over the "base-burner," and there were tears in their +thoughtful eyes.</p> +<p>"She said twenty years, Eva. Let's see, this is 1883. What would +that make it?"</p> +<p>"About 1903 or 1904, Anderson."</p> +<p>"Well, I guess we c'n wait if other people can," mused he. Then +they went slowly upstairs and to bed.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3><i>Some Years Go By</i></h3> +<p>Tinkletown as a unit supported Anderson in his application for +guardianship papers. They were filed immediately after the secret +visit of the mysterious woman; the Circuit Court at Boggs City, +after hearing the evidence, at once entered the appointment of Mr. +Crow. When the court asked in mild surprise why he did not adopt +the child, Anderson and Eva looked at each other sheepishly and +were silent for a full minute. Then Anderson spoke up a bit +huskily:</p> +<p>"Well, you see, judge, her name would have to be Crow, an' while +it's a good name an' an honoured one, it don't jest seem to fit the +young 'un. She 'pears to be more of a canary than a crow, +figuratively speakin', and Eva an' me jest decided we'd give her a +different sort of a last name if we could find one. Seems to me +that Rosie Canary would be a good one, but Eva an' the childern are +ag'in me. They've decided to call her Rosalie Gray, an' I guess +that about settles it. If you don't mind, I reckon that name c'n go +in the records. Besides, you must recollect that she's liable to +have a lot of property some time, an' it seems more fit fer me to +be guardian than foster-father if that time ever comes. It'll be +easier to say good-bye if she keers to leave us."</p> +<p>That same day Anderson deposited two hundred and fifty dollars +to his credit in the First National Bank, saying to his wife as he +walked away from the teller's window, "I guess Rosalie cain't +starve till the bank busts, an' maybe not then."</p> +<p>Of course Tinkletown knew that a sum of money had been paid to +Anderson, but no one knew that it had been handed to him in person +by an interested party. Had Anderson and his wife even whispered +that such a visit had occurred, the town would have gone into a +convulsion of wrath; the marshal's pedestal would have been jerked +out from under him without compunction or mercy. Eva cautioned him +to be more than silent on the subject for the child's sake as well +as for their own, and Anderson saw wisdom in her counselling. He +even lagged in his avowed intention to unravel the mystery or die +in the attempt. A sharp reminder in the shape of an item in the +<i>Banner</i> restored his energies, and he again took up the case +with a vigour that startled even himself. Anything in the shape of +vigour startled his wife.</p> +<p>Harry Squires, the reporter, who poked more or less fun at +Anderson from time to time because he had the "power of the press +behind him," some weeks later wrote the following item about the +"baby mystery," as he called it, in large type:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"There is no news in regard to the child found upon the doorstep +of our esteemed fellow-citizen Anderson Crow, last February. The +item concerning its discovery first appeared in the columns of the +<i>Banner</i>, as will be remembered by our many readers. Detective +Crow promised developments some time ago, but they have not showed +up. It is rumoured that he has a new clew, but it cannot be +substantiated. The general impression is that he does not know +whether it is a boy or girl. We advise Mr. Crow to go slow. He +should not forget the time when he arrested Mr. John Barnes, two +years ago, for the murder of Mr. Grover, and afterward found that +the young gent was merely eloping with Judge Brewster's daughter, +which was no crime. We saw the girl. Those of our readers who were +alive at the time doubtless recall the excitement of that man-hunt +two years ago. Mr. Barnes, as innocent as a child unborn, came to +our little city engaged in the innocent pastime of getting married. +At the same time it was reported that a murder had been committed +in this county. Mr. Crow had his suspicions aroused and pursued Mr. +Barnes down the river and arrested him. It was a fine piece of +detective work. But, unfortunately for Mr. Crow, the real murderer +had been caught in the meantime. Mr. Barnes was guilty only of +stealing judge Brewster's daughter and getting married to her. The +last heard of them they were happy in New York. They even forgave +Mr. Crow, it is reported. It is to be hoped that our clever +detective will soon jump down upon the heartless parents of this +innocent child, but it is also to be hoped that he think at least +four times before he leaps."</p> +</div> +<p>To say that the foregoing editorial disturbed the evenness of +Mr. Crow's temper would be saying nothing at all. In the privacy of +his barn lot Anderson did a war dance that shamed Tecumseh. He +threatened to annihilate Harry Squires "from head to foot," for +publishing the base slander.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/087.jpg" width="40%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Doggone his hide," roared poor Anderson, "fer two cents I'd +tell all I know about him bein' tight up at Boggs City three years +ago. He couldn't walk half an inch that time without staggerin'. +Anyhow, I wouldn't have chased Mr. Barnes that time if it hadn't +been fer Harry Squires. He egged me on, doggone his hide. If he +didn't have that big typesetter from Albany over at the +<i>Banner</i> office to back him up I'd go over an' bust his snoot +fer him. After all the items I've give him, too. That's all the +thanks you git fer gittin' up news fer them blamed reporters. But +I'll show him! I wonder what he'd think if I traced that baby right +up to his own—<i>What's</i> that, Eva? Well, now, you don't +know anything about it neither, so keep your mouth shet. Harry +Squires is a purty sly cuss. Mebby it's his'n. You ain't supposed +to know. You jest let me do my own deducin'. I don't want no blamed +woman tellin' me who to shadder. An' you, too, Edner; get out of +the way, consarn ye! The next thing <i>you'll</i> be tellin' me +what to do—an' me your father, too!"</p> +<p>And that is why Anderson Crow resumed his search for the parents +of Rosalie Gray. Not that he hoped or expected to find them, but to +offset the pernicious influence of Harry's "item." For many days he +followed the most highly impossible clews, some of them +intractable, to supply a rather unusual word of description. In +other words, they reacted with a vigour that often found him +unprepared but serene. Consequences bothered Anderson but little in +those days of despised activity.</p> +<p>It is not necessary to dwell upon the incidents of the ensuing +years, which saw Rosalie crawl from babyhood to childhood and then +stride proudly through the teens with a springiness that boded ill +for Father Time. Regularly each succeeding February there came to +Anderson Crow a package of twenty dollar bills amounting to one +thousand dollars, the mails being inscrutable. The Crow family +prospered correspondingly, but there was a liberal frugality behind +it all that meant well for Rosalie when the time came for an +accounting. Anderson and Eva "laid by" a goodly portion of the +money for the child, whom they loved as one of their own flesh and +blood. The district school lessons were followed later on by a +boarding-school education down State, and then came the finishing +touches at Miss Brown's in New York.</p> +<p>Rosalie grew into a rare flower, as dainty as the rose, as +piquant as the daisy. The unmistakable mark of the high bred glowed +in her face, the fine traces of blue blood graced her every +movement, her every tone and look. At the time that she, as well as +every one else in Tinkletown, for that matter, was twenty years +older than when she first came to Anderson's home, we find her the +queen of the village, its one rich human possession, its one truly +sophisticated inhabitant. Anderson Crow and his wife were so proud +of her that they forgot their duty to their own offspring; but if +the Crow children resented this it was not exhibited in the +expressions of love and admiration for their foster-sister. Edna +Crow, the eldest of the girls—Anderson called her +"Edner"—was Rosalie's most devoted slave, while Roscoe, the +twelve-year-old boy, who comprised the rear rank of Anderson's +little army, knelt so constantly at her shrine that he fell far +behind in his studies, and stuck to the third reader for two +years.</p> +<p>Anderson had not been idle in all these years. He was fast +approaching his seventieth anniversary, but he was not a day older +in spirit than when we first made his acquaintance. True, his hair +was thinner and whiter, and his whiskers straggled a little more +carelessly than in other days, but he was as young and active as a +youth of twenty. Hard times did not worry him, nor did domestic +troubles. Mrs. Crow often admitted that she tried her best to worry +him, but it was like "pouring water on a duck's back." He went +blissfully on his way, earning encomiums for himself and honours +for Tinkletown. There was no grave crime committed in the land that +he did not have a well-defined scheme for apprehending the +perpetrators. His "deductions" at Lamson's store never failed to +draw out and hold large audiences, and no one disputed his theories +in public. The fact that he was responsible for the arrest of +various hog, horse, and chicken thieves from time to time, and for +the continuous seizure of the two town drunkards, Tom Folly and Alf +Reesling, kept his reputation untarnished, despite the numerous +errors of commission and omission that crept in between.</p> +<p>That Rosalie's mysterious friends—or enemies, it might +have been—kept close and accurate watch over her was +manifested from time to time. Once, when Anderson was very ill with +typhoid fever, the package of bills was accompanied by an unsigned, +typewritten letter. The writer announced that Mr. Crow's state of +health was causing some anxiety on Rosalie's account—the +child was then six years old—and it was hoped that nothing +serious would result. Another time the strange writer, in a letter +from Paris, instructed Mr. Crow to send Rosalie to a certain +boarding school and to see that she had French, German, and music +from competent instructors. Again, just before the girl went to New +York for her two years' stay in Miss Brown's school, there came a +package containing $2500 for her own personal use. Rosalie often +spoke to Anderson of this mysterious sender as the "fairy +godmother"; but the old marshal had a deeper and more significant +opinion.</p> +<p>Perhaps the most anxious period in the life of Anderson Crow +came when Rosalie was about ten years old. A new sheriff had been +elected in Bramble County, and he posed as a reformer. His sister +taught school in Tinkletown, and Rosalie was her favourite. She +took an interest in the child that was almost the undoing of Mr. +Crow's prosperity. Imagining that she was befriending the girl, the +teacher appealed to her brother, the sheriff, insisting that he do +what he could to solve the mystery of her birth. The sheriff saw a +chance to distinguish himself. He enlisted the help of an +aggressive prosecuting attorney, also new, and set about to +investigate the case.</p> +<p>The two officers of the law descended upon Tinkletown one day +and began to ask peremptory questions. They went about it in such a +high-handed, lordly manner that Anderson took alarm and his heart +sank like lead. He saw in his mind's eye the utter collapse of all +his hopes, the dashing away of his cup of leisure and the upsetting +of the "fairy godmother's" plans. Pulling his wits together, he set +about to frustrate the attack of the meddlers. Whether it was his +shrewdness in placing obstacles in their way or whether he coerced +the denizens into blocking the sheriff's investigation does not +matter. It is only necessary to say that the officious gentleman +from Boggs City finally gave up the quest in disgust and retired +into the oblivion usual to county officials who try to be +progressive. It was many weeks, however, before Anderson slept +soundly. He was once more happy in the consciousness that Rosalie +had been saved from disaster and that he had done his duty by +her.</p> +<p>"I'd like to know how them doggone jays from Boggs City expected +to find out anything about that child when I hain't been able to," +growled Mr. Crow in Lamson's store one night. "If they'll jest keep +their blamed noses out of this affair I'll find out who her parents +are some day. It takes time to trace down things like this. I guess +I know what I'm doin', don't I, boys?"</p> +<p>"That's what you do, Anderson," said Mr. Lamson, as Anderson +reached over and took a handful of licorice drops from the jar on +the counter.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>The Village Queen</h3> +<p>The spring of 1903 brought Rosalie back to Tinkletown after her +second and last year with Miss Brown in New York City. The sun +seemed brighter, the birds sang more blithely, the flowers took on +a new fragrance and the village spruced up as if Sunday was the +only day in the week. The young men of the town trembled when she +passed them by, and not a few of them grew thin and haggard for +want of food and sleep, having lost both appetite and repose +through a relapse in love. Her smile was the same as of yore, her +cheery greetings the same, and yet the village swains stood in awe +of this fine young aristocrat for days and days. Gradually it +dawned upon them that she was human, after all, despite her New +York training, and they slowly resumed the old-time manner of +courting, which was with the eyes exclusively.</p> +<p>A few of the more venturesome—but not the more +ardent—asked her to go walking, driving, or to the church +"sociables," and there was a rivalry in town which threatened to +upset commerce. There was no theatre in Tinkletown, but they +delighted in her descriptions of the gorgeous play-houses in New +York. The town hall seemed smaller than ever to them. The younger +merchants and their clerks neglected business with charming +impartiality, and trade was going to "rack and ruin" until Rosalie +declined to marry George Rawlins, the minister's son. He was looked +upon as the favoured one; but she refused him in such a decisive +manner that all others lost hope and courage. It is on record that +the day after George's <i>congé</i> Tinkletown indulged in a +complete business somersault. Never before had there been such +strict attention to customers; merchants and clerks alike settled +down to the inevitable and tried to banish Rosalie's face from the +cost tags and trading stamps of their dull, mercantile cloister. +Even Tony Brink, the blacksmith's 'prentice, fell into the habits +of industry, but with an absent-mindedness that got him kicked +through a partition in the smithy when he attempted to shoe the +fetlock of Mr. Martin's colt instead of its hoof.</p> +<p>The Crow family took on a new dignity. Anderson gave fifty +dollars to the Foreign Missionary Society of the Presbyterian +Church, claiming that a foreign education had done so much for his +ward; and Mrs. Crow succeeded in holding two big afternoon teas +before Rosalie could apply the check rein.</p> +<p>One night Anderson sat up until nearly ten o'clock—an +unheard-of proceeding for him. Rosalie, with the elder Crow girls, +Edna and Susie, had gone to protracted meeting with a party of +young men and women. The younger boys and girls were in bed, and +Mrs. Crow was yawning prodigiously. She never retired until +Anderson was ready to do likewise. Suddenly it dawned upon her that +he was unusually quiet and preoccupied. They were sitting on the +moonlit porch.</p> +<p>"What's the matter, Anderson? Ain't you well?" she asked at +last.</p> +<p>"No; I'm just thinkin'," he responded, rather dismally. +"Doggone, I cain't get it out of my head, Eva."</p> +<p>"Can't get what out?"</p> +<p>"About Rosalie."</p> +<p>"Well, what about her?"</p> +<p>"That's jest like a woman—always fergittin' the most +important things in the world. Don't you know that the twenty years +is up?"</p> +<p>"Of course I know it, but 'tain't worryin' me any. She's still +here, ain't she? Nobody has come to take her away. The thousand +dollars came all right last February, didn't it? Well, what's the +use worryin'?"</p> +<p>"Mebbe you're right, but I'm skeered to death fer fear some one +will turn up an' claim her, er that a big estate will be settled, +er somethin' awful like that. I don't mind the money, Eva; I jest +hate to think of losin' her, now that she's such a credit to us. +Besides, I'm up a stump about next year."</p> +<p>"Well, what happens then?"</p> +<p>"Derned if I know. That's what's worryin' me."</p> +<p>"I don't see why you—"</p> +<p>"Certainly you don't. You never do. I've got to do all the +thinkin' fer this fambly. Next year she's twenty-one years old an' +her own boss, ain't she? I ain't her guardeen after that, am I? +What happens then, I'd like to know."</p> +<p>"You jest have to settle with the court, pay over to her what +belongs to her and keep the thousand every spring jest the same. +Her people, whoever they be, are payin' you fer keepin' her an' not +her fer stayin' here. 'Tain't likely she'll want to leave a good +home like this 'un, is it? Don't worry till the time comes, +Anderson."</p> +<p>"That's jest the point. She's lived in New York an' she's got +used to it. She's got fine idees; even her clothes seem to fit +different. Now, do you s'pose that fine-lookin' girl with all her +New York trimmin's 's goin' to hang 'round a fool little town like +this? Not much! She's goin' to dig out o' here as soon's she gits a +chance; an' she's goin' to live right where her heart tells her she +belongs—in the metropolees of New York. She don't belong in +no jim-crow town like this. Doggone, Eva, I hate to see 'er +go!"</p> +<p>There was such a wail of bitterness in the old constable's +remark that Mrs. Crow felt the tears start to her own eyes. It was +the girl they both wanted, after all—not the money. Rosalie, +coming home with her party some time afterward, found the old +couple still seated on the porch. The young people could not +conceal their surprise.</p> +<p>"Counting the stars, pop?" asked Edna Crow.</p> +<p>"He's waiting for the eclipse," bawled noisy Ed Higgins, the +grocer's clerk. "It's due next winter. H'are you, Anderson?"</p> +<p>"How's that?" was Anderson's rebuke.</p> +<p>"I mean Mr. Crow," corrected Ed, with a nervous glance at +Rosalie, who had been his companion for the evening.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/097.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Oh, I'm jest so-so," remarked Anderson, mollified. "How was the +party?"</p> +<p>"It wasn't a party, Daddy Crow," laughed Rosalie, seating +herself in front of him on the porch rail. "It was an experience +meeting. Alf Reesling has reformed again. He told us all about his +last attack of delirium tremens."</p> +<p>"You don't say so! Well, sir, I never thought Alf could find the +time to reform ag'in. He's too busy gittin' tight," mused Anderson. +"But I guess reformin' c'n git to be as much a habit as anythin' +else."</p> +<p>"I think he was a little woozy to-night," ventured 'Rast +Little.</p> +<p>"A little what?"</p> +<p>"Drunk," explained 'Rast, without wasting words. 'Rast had +acquired the synonym at the business men's carnival in Boggs City +the preceding fall. Sometimes he substituted the words "pie-eyed," +"skeed," "lit up," etc., just to show his worldliness.</p> +<p>After the young men had departed and the Crow girls had gone +upstairs with their mother Rosalie slipped out on the porch and sat +herself down upon the knee of her disconsolate guardian.</p> +<p>"You are worried about something, Daddy Crow," she said gently. +"Now, speak up, sir. What is it?"</p> +<p>"It's time you were in bed," scolded Anderson, pulling his +whiskers nervously.</p> +<p>"Oh, I'm young, daddy. I don't need sleep. But you never have +been up as late as this since I've known you."</p> +<p>"I was up later'n this the time you had the whoopin'-cough, all +right."</p> +<p>"What's troubling you, daddy?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothin'—nothin' at all. Doggone, cain't a man set out +on his own porch 'thout—"</p> +<p>"Forgive me, daddy. Shall I go away and leave you?"</p> +<p>"Gosh a'mighty, no!" he gasped. "That's what's worryin' +me—oh, you didn't mean forever. You jest meant to-night? +Geminy crickets, you did give me a skeer!" He sank back with a +great sigh of relief.</p> +<p>"Why, I never expect to leave you forever," she cried, caressing +his scanty hair. "You couldn't drive me away. This is home, and +you've been too good to me all these years. I may want to travel +after a while, but I'll always come back to you, Daddy Crow."</p> +<p>"I'm—I'm mighty glad to hear ye say that, Rosie. Ye +see—ye see, me an' your ma kinder learned to love you, +an'—an—"</p> +<p>"Why, Daddy Crow, you silly old goose! You're almost +crying!"</p> +<p>"What's that? Now, don't talk like that to me, you little +whipper-snapper, er you go to bed in a hurry. I never cried in my +life," growled Anderson in a great bluster.</p> +<p>"Well, then, let's talk about something else—me, for +instance. Do you know, Daddy Crow, that I'm too strong to live an +idle life. There is no reason why I shouldn't have an occupation. I +want to work—accomplish something."</p> +<p>Anderson was silent a long time collecting his nerves. "You +wouldn't keer to be a female detective, would you?" he asked +drily.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>Rosalie Has Plans of Her Own</h3> +<p>"Do be serious, daddy. I want to do something worth while. I +could teach school or—"</p> +<p>"Not much! You ain't cut out fer that job. Don't you know that +ever'body hates school-teachers when they're growed up? Jerusalem, +how I still hate old Rachel Kidwell! An' yet she's bin dead nigh +onto thirty years. She was my first teacher. You wasn't born to be +hated by all the boys in the district. I don't see what put the +idee of work inter your head You got 'bout eight thousand dollars +in the bank an'—"</p> +<p>"But I insist that the money is yours, daddy. My fairy godmother +paid it to you for keeping, clothing, and educating me. It is not +mine."</p> +<p>"You talk like I was a boardin' school instead o' bein' your +guardeen. No, siree; it's your money, an' that ends it. You git it +when you're twenty-one."</p> +<p>"We'll see, daddy," she replied, a stubborn light in her dark +eyes. "But I want to learn to do something worth while. If I had a +million it would be just the same."</p> +<p>"You'll have something to do when you git married," observed he +sharply.</p> +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> +<p>"I s'pose you're goin' to say you never expect to git married. +They all say it—an' then take the first feller 'at comes +along."</p> +<p>"I didn't take the first, or the second, or the third, or +the—"</p> +<p>"Hold on! Gosh a'mighty, have you had that many? Well, why don't +you go into the matrimonial agent's business? That's an +occupation."</p> +<p>"Oh, none of them was serious, daddy," she said +naïvely.</p> +<p>"You could have all of the men in the county!" he declared +proudly. "Only," he added quickly, "it wouldn't seem jest right an' +proper."</p> +<p>"There was a girl at Miss Brown's a year ago who had loads of +money, and yet she declared she was going to have an occupation. +Nobody knew much about her or why she left school suddenly in the +middle of a term. I liked her, for she was very nice to me when I +first went there, a stranger. Mr. Reddon—you've heard me +speak of him—was devoted to her, and I'm sure she liked him. +It was only yesterday I heard from her. She is going to teach +school in this township next winter."</p> +<p>"An' she's got money?"</p> +<p>"I am sure she had it in those days. It's the strangest thing in +the world that she should be coming here to teach school in No. 5. +Congressman Ritchey secured the appointment for her, she says. The +township trustee—whatever his name is—for a long time +insisted that he must appoint a teacher from Tinkletown and not an +outsider. I am glad she is coming here because—well, daddy, +because she is like the girls I knew in the city. She has asked me +to look up a boarding place for next winter. Do you know of any +one, daddy, who could let her have a nice room?"</p> +<p>"I'll bet my ears you'd like to have your ma take her in right +here. But I don't see how it c'n be done, Rosie-posie. There's so +derned many of us now, an'—"</p> +<p>"Oh, I didn't mean that, daddy. She couldn't come here. But +don't you think Mrs. Jim Holabird would take her in for the +winter?"</p> +<p>"P'raps. She's a widder. She might let her have Jim's room now +that there's a vacancy. You might go over an' ast her about it +to-morrer. It's a good thing she's a friend of yourn, Rosalie, +because if she wasn't I'd have to fight her app'intment."</p> +<p>"Why, daddy!" reproachfully.</p> +<p>"Well, she's a foreigner, an' I don't think it's right to give +her a job when we've got so many home products that want the place +an' who look unpopular enough to fill the bill. I'm fer home +industry every time, an' 'specially as this girl don't appear to +need the place. I don't see what business Congressman Ritchey has +foolin' with our school system anyhow. He'd better be reducin' the +tariff er increasin' the pensions down to Washington."</p> +<p>"I quite agree with you, Daddy Crow," said Rosalie with a +diplomacy that always won for her. She knew precisely how to handle +her guardian, and that was why she won where his own daughters +failed. "And now, good-night, daddy. Go to bed and don't worry +about me. You'll have me on your hands much longer than you think +or want. What time is it?"</p> +<p>Anderson patted her head reflectively as he solemnly drew his +huge silver time-piece from an unlocated pocket. He held it out +into the bright moonlight.</p> +<p>"Geminy crickets!" he exclaimed. "It's forty-nine minutes to +twelve!" Anderson Crow's policy was to always look at things +through the small end of the telescope.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/103.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>The slow, hot summer wore away, and to Rosalie it was the +longest that she ever had experienced. She was tired of the +ceaseless twaddle of Tinkletown, its flow of "missions," +"sociables," "buggy-horses," "George Rawlin's new dress-suit," +"harvesting," and "politics"—for even the children talked +politics. Nor did the assiduous attentions of the village young men +possess the power to shorten the days for her—and they +certainly lengthened the nights. She liked them because they were +her friends from the beginning—and Rosalie was not a snob. +Not for the world would she have hurt the feelings of one poor, +humble, adoring soul in Tinkletown; and while her smile was none +the less sweet, her laugh none the less joyous, in her heart there +was the hidden longing that smiled only in dreams. She longed for +the day that was to bring Elsie Banks to live with Mrs. Holabird, +for with her would come a breath of the world she had known for two +years, and which she had learned to love so well.</p> +<p>In three months seven men had asked her to marry them. Of the +seven, one only had the means or the prospect of means to support +her. He was a grass-widower with five grown children. Anderson took +occasion to warn her against widowers.</p> +<p>"Why," he said, "they're jest like widders. You know Dave Smith +that runs the tavern down street, don't you? Well, doggone ef he +didn't turn in an' marry a widder with seven childern an' a +husband, an' he's led a dog's life ever sence."</p> +<p>"Seven children and a husband? Daddy Crow!"</p> +<p>"Yep. Her derned husband wouldn't stay divorced when he found +out Dave could support a fambly as big as that. He figgered it +would be jest as easy to take keer of eight as seven, so he +perlitely attached hisself to Dave's kitchen an' started in to eat +hisself to death. Dave was goin' to have his wife apply fer another +divorce an' leave the name blank, so's he could put in either +husband ef it came to a pinch, but I coaxed him out of it. He +finally got rid of the feller by askin' him one day to sweep out +the office. He could eat all right, but it wasn't natural fer him +to work, so he skipped out. Next I heerd of him he had married a +widder who was gittin' a pension because her first husband fit fer +his country. The Government shet off the pension jest as soon as +she got married ag'in, and then that blamed cuss took in washin' +fer her. He stayed away from home on wash-days, but as every day +was wash-day with her, he didn't see her by daylight fer three +years. She died, an' now he's back at Dave's ag'in. He calls Dave +his husband-in-law."</p> +<p>It required all of Anderson's social and official diplomacy to +forestall an indignation meeting when it was announced that a +stranger, Miss Banks, had been selected to teach school No. 5. +There was some talk of mobbing the township trustee and Board of +County Commissioners, but Anderson secured the names of the more +virulent talkers and threatened to "jail" them for conspiracy.</p> +<p>"Why, Anderson," almost wailed George Ray, "that girl's from the +city. What does she know about grammar an' history an' all that? +They don't teach anything but French an' Italian in the cities an' +you know it."</p> +<p>"Pshaw!" sniffed Anderson. "I hate grammar an' always did. I c'n +talk better Italian than grammar right now, an' I hope Miss Banks +will teach every child in the district how to talk French. You'd +orter hear Rosalie talk it. Besides, Rosie says she's a nice girl +an'—an' needs the job." Anderson lied bravely, but he +swallowed twice in doing it.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i106.jpg" id="i106.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/106.jpg"><img src="images/106.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"September brought Elsie Banks"</b></div> +<p>September brought Elsie Banks to make life worth living for +Rosalie. The two girls were constantly together, talking over the +old days and what the new ones were to bring forth, especially for +Miss Gray, who had resumed wood carving as a temporary occupation. +Miss Banks was more than ever reluctant to discuss her own affairs, +and Rosalie after a few trials was tactful enough to respect her +mute appeal. It is doubtful if either of the girls mentioned the +name of big, handsome Tom Reddon—Tom, who had rowed in his +college crew; but it is safe to say that both of them thought of +him more than once those long, soft, autumn nights—nights +when Tinkletown's beaux were fairly tumbling over themselves in the +effort to make New York life seem like a flimsy shadow in +comparison.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3><i>Elsie Banks</i></h3> +<p>Aderson Crow stood afar off—among the bleak, leafless +trees of Badger's Grove—and gazed thoughtfully, even +earnestly, upon the little red schoolhouse with its high brick +chimney and snow-clad roof. A biting January wind cut through his +whiskers and warmed his nose to a half-broiled shade of red. On the +lapel of his overcoat glistened his social and official badges, +augmented by a new and particularly shiny emblem of respect +bestowed by the citizens of Tinkletown.</p> +<p>At first it had been the sense of the town to erect a monument +in recognition of his part in the capture of the Bramble County +horse-thief gang, but a thrifty and considerate committee of five +substituted a fancy gold badge with suitable inscriptions on both +sides, extolling him to the skies "long before he went there +hisself" (to quote Uncle Gideon Luce, whose bump of perception was +a stubborn prophet when it came to picking out the site of Mr. +Crow's heaven). For a full half hour the marshal of Tinkletown had +been standing among the trees surveying the schoolhouse at the foot +of the slope. If his frosted cheeks and watery eyes ached for the +warmth that urged the curls of smoke to soar away from the +chimney-top, his attitude did not betray the fact. He was watching +and thinking, and when Anderson thought of one thing he never +thought of another at the same time.</p> +<p>"It'll soon be recess time," he reflected. "Then I'll step down +there an' let on to be makin' a social call on the schoolma'am. By +gum, I believe she's the one! It'll take some tarnation good work +to find out the truth about her, but I guess I c'n do it all right. +The only thing I got to guard ag'inst is lettin' anybody else know +of the mystery surroundin' her. Gosh! it'll surprise some of the +folks 'round here, 'specially Rosalie. An' mebby the township +trustee won't be sorry he give the school this year to a strange +girl instid o' to Jane Rankin er Effie Dickens! Congressman Ritchey +hadn't no business puttin' his nose into our affairs anyhow, no +matter if this here teacher is a friend of his fambly. He's got +some kind a holt on these here trustees—'y gosh, I'd like to +know what 'tis. He c'n jest wrap 'em round his finger an' make 'em +app'int anybody he likes. Must be politics. There, it's recess! +I'll jest light out an' pay the schoolhouse a little visit."</p> +<p>Inside a capacious and official pocket of Mr. Crow's coat +reposed a letter from a law firm in Chicago. It asked if within the +last two years a young woman had applied for a position as teacher +in the township schools at Tinkletown. A description accompanied +the inquiry, but it was admitted she might have applied under a +name not her own, which was Marion Lovering. In explanation, the +letter said she had left her home in Chicago without the consent of +her aunt, imbued with the idea that she would sooner support +herself than depend upon the charity of that worthy though wealthy +relative. The aunt had recently died, and counsel for the estate +was trying to establish proof concerning the actions and +whereabouts of Miss Lovering since her departure from Chicago.</p> +<p>The young woman often had said she would become a teacher, a +tutor, a governess, or a companion, and it was known that she had +made her way to that section of the world presided over by Anderson +Crow—although the distinguished lawyers did not put it in +those words. A reward of five hundred dollars for positive +information concerning the "life of the girl" while in "that or any +other community" was promised.</p> +<p>Miss Banks's appointment came through the agency of the +district's congressman, in whose home she had acted as governess +for a period. Moreover, she answered the description in that she +was young, pretty, and refined. Anderson Crow felt that he was on +the right track; he was now engaged in as pretty a piece of +detective business as had ever fallen to his lot, and he was not +going to spoil it by haste and overconfidence.</p> +<p>Just why Anderson Crow should "shadow" the schoolhouse instead +of the teacher's temporary place of abode no one could possibly +have known but himself—and it is doubtful if <i>he</i> knew. +He resolved not to answer the Chicago letter until he was quite +ready to produce the girl and the proof desired.</p> +<p>"I'd be a gol-swiggled fool to put 'em onter my s'picions an' +then have 'em cheat me out of the reward," he reflected keenly. +"You cain't trust them Chicago lawyers an inch an' a half. Doggone +it, I'll never fergit that feller who got my pockit-book out to +Central Park that time. He tole me positively he was a lawyer from +Chicago, an' had an office in the Y.M.C.A. Building. An' the idee +of him tellin' me he wanted to see if my pockit-book had better +leather in it than hisn!"</p> +<p>The fact that the school children, big and little, loved Miss +Banks possessed no point of influence over their elders of the +feminine persuasion. They turned up their Tinkletown noses and +sniffed at her because she was a "vain creature," who thought more +of "attractin' the men than she did of anything else on earth." And +all this in spite of the fact that she was the intimate friend of +the town goddess, Rosalie Gray.</p> +<p>Everybody in school No. 5 over the age of seven was deeply, +jealously in love with Miss Banks. Many a frozen snowball did its +deadly work from ambush because of this impotent jealousy.</p> +<p>But the merriest rivalry was that which developed between Ed +Higgins, the Beau Brummel of Tinkletown, and 'Rast Little, whose +father owned the biggest farm in Bramble County. If she was amused +by the frantic efforts of each suitor to outwit the other she was +too tactful to display her emotion. Perhaps she was more highly +entertained by the manner in which Tinkletown femininity paired its +venom with masculine admiration.</p> +<p>"Mornin', Miss Banks," was Anderson's greeting as he stamped +noisily into the room. He forgot that he had said good-morning to +her when she stopped in to see Rosalie on her way to the +schoolhouse. The children ceased their outdoor game and peered +eagerly through the windows, conscious that the visit of this +dignitary was of supreme importance. Miss Banks looked up from the +papers she was correcting, the pucker vanishing from her pretty +brow as if by magic.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/113.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Crow. What are you doing away out here in the +country? Jimmy"—to a small boy—"please close the door." +Anderson had left it open, and it was a raw January wind which +followed him into the room.</p> +<p>"'Scuse me," he murmured. "Seems I ain't got sense enough to +shet a door even. My wife says—but you don't keer to hear +about that, do you? Oh, I jest dropped in," finally answering her +question. He took a bench near the big stove and spread his hands +before the sheet-iron warmth. "Lookin' up a little affair, that's +all. Powerful chilly, ain't it?"</p> +<p>"Very." She stood on the opposite side of the stove, puzzled by +this unexpected visit, looking at him with undisguised +curiosity.</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/114.jpg" width="75%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Ever been to Chicago?" asked Anderson suddenly, hoping to catch +her unawares.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes. I have lived there," she answered readily. He shifted +his legs twice and took a hasty pull at his whiskers.</p> +<p>"That's what I thought. Why don't you go back there?"</p> +<p>"Because I'm teaching school here, Mr. Crow."</p> +<p>"Well, I reckon that's a good excuse. I thought mebby you had a +different one."</p> +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I dunno. I jest asked."</p> +<p>"You are a detective, are you not?" asked Miss Banks, smiling +brightly and with understanding.</p> +<p>"Oh, off an' on I do a little detectin'. See my badge?"</p> +<p>"Am I suspected of a heinous crime?" she asked so abruptly that +he gasped. "Won't you take off your cap, Mr. Crow?" He removed it +sheepishly.</p> +<p>"Lord, no!" he exclaimed in confusion. "I mean the +crime—not the cap. Well, I guess I'll be goin'. School's +goin' to take up, I reckon. See you later, Miss Banks." He restored +his cap to its accustomed place and was starting toward the door, a +trifle dazed and bewildered.</p> +<p>"What is it that you wish to find out, Mr. Crow?" she suddenly +called to him. He halted and faced about so quickly that his reply +came like a shot out of a gun.</p> +<p>"I'm on the lookout fer a girl—an' she'll be's rich's +Crowses if I c'n only find 'er. I dassent tell 'er name jest now," +he went on, slowly retracing his steps, "'cause I don't want +people—er her either, fer that matter—to git onter my +scheme. But you jest wait." He was standing very close to her now +and looking her full in the face. "You're sure you don't know +anythin' 'bout her?"</p> +<p>"Why, how should I know? You've told me nothing."</p> +<p>"You've got purty good clothes fer a common school-teacher," he +flung at her in an aggressive, impertinent tone, but the warm +colour that swiftly rose to her cheeks forced him to recall his +words, for he quickly tempered them with, "Er, at least, that's +what all the women folks say."</p> +<p>"Oh, so some one has been talking about my affairs? Some of your +excellent women want to know more about me than—"</p> +<p>"Don't git excited, Miss Banks," he interrupted; "the women +ain't got anythin' to do with it—I mean, it's nothin' to +them. I—"</p> +<p>"Mr. Crow," she broke in, "if there is anything you or anybody +in Tinkletown wants to know about me you will have to deduce it for +yourself. I believe that is what you call it—deduce? And now +good-bye, Mr. Crow. Recess is over," she said pointedly; and Mr. +Crow shuffled out as the children galloped in.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/116.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>That evening Ed Higgins and 'Rast Little came to call, but she +excused herself because of her correspondence. In her little +upstairs room she wrote letter after letter, one in particular +being voluminous. Mrs. Holabird, as she passed her door, distinctly +heard her laugh aloud. It was a point to be recalled afterward with +no little consideration. Later she went downstairs, cloaked warmly, +for a walk to the post-office. Ed Higgins was still in the parlour +talking to the family. He hastily put in his petition to accompany +her, and it was granted absently. Then he surreptitiously and +triumphantly glanced through the window, the scene outside pleasing +him audibly. 'Rast was standing at the front gate talking to +Anderson Crow. Miss Banks noticed as they passed the confused twain +at the gate that Anderson carried his dark lantern.</p> +<p>"Any trace of the heiress, Mr. Crow?" she asked merrily.</p> +<p>"Doggone it," muttered Anderson, "she'll give the whole snap +away!"</p> +<p>"What's that?" asked 'Rast.</p> +<p>"Nothin' much," said Anderson, repairing the damage. "Ed's got +your time beat to-night, 'Rast, that's all!"</p> +<p>"I could 'a' took her out ridin' to-night if I'd wanted to," +lied 'Rast promptly. "I'm goin' to take her to the spellin'-bee +to-morrow night out to the schoolhouse."</p> +<p>"Did she say she'd go with you?"</p> +<p>"Not yet. I was jest goin' to ast her to-night."</p> +<p>"Mebby Ed's askin' her now."</p> +<p>"Gosh dern it, that's so! Maybe he is," almost wailed 'Rast; and +Anderson felt sorry for him as he ambled away from the gate and its +love-sick guardian.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3><i>The Spelling-Bee</i></h3> +<p>Young Mr. Higgins found his companion bubbling over with +vivacity. Her pretty chin was in the air and every word bore the +promise of a laugh. He afterward recalled one little incident of +their walk through the frosty night, and repeated it to Anderson +Crow with more awe than seemed necessary. They were passing the +town pump on their way to the post-office. The street was dark and +deserted.</p> +<p>"Gosh!" said Ed, "I bet the town pump's froze up!"</p> +<p>"It doesn't seem very cold," she said brightly.</p> +<p>"Gee! it's below zero! I bet 'Rast thinks it's pretty doggone +cold up there by your gate."</p> +<p>"Poor 'Rast! His mother should keep him indoors on nights like +this." Ed laughed loud and long and a tingle of happiness shot +through his erstwhile shivering frame. "I'm not a bit cold," she +went on. "See—feel my hand. I'm not even wearing +mittens."</p> +<p>Ed Higgins gingerly clasped the little hand, but it was +withdrawn at once. He found it as warm as toast. Words of love +surged to his humble lips; his knees felt a tendency to lower +themselves precipitously to the frozen sidewalk; he was ready to +grovel at her feet—and he wondered if they were as warm as +toast. But 'Rast Little came up at that instant and the chance was +lost.</p> +<p>"Doggone!" slipped unconsciously but bitterly from Ed's +lips.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/119.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Can I be your company to the spellin'-bee to-morrow night, Miss +Banks?" burst unceremoniously from the lips of the newcomer.</p> +<p>"Thank you, 'Rast. I was just wondering how I should get out to +the schoolhouse. You are very kind. We'll go in the bob-sled with +the Holabirds."</p> +<p>"Doggone!" came in almost a wail from poor Ed. He could have +killed 'Rast for the triumphant laugh that followed.</p> +<p>In the meantime Anderson Crow was preparing to crawl in between +the icy sheets at home. Mrs. Crow was "sitting up" with old Mrs. +Luce, who was ill next door.</p> +<p>"She's a girl with a past," reflected Anderson. "She's a +mystery, that's what she is; but I'll unravel her. She had a mighty +good reason fer sawin' me off out there to-day. I was gittin' too +close home. She seen I was about to corner her. By gum, I hope she +don't suspect nothin'! She's found out that Ed Higgins has a good +job down to Lamson's store, an' she's settin' her cap fer him. It +shows she'd ruther live in the city than in the country—so +it's all up with 'Rast. That proves she's from Chicago er some +other big place. Ed's gettin' eight dollars a week down there at +Lamson's. By gum, that boy's doin' well! I used to think he +wouldn't amount to nothin'. It shows that the best of us git fooled +in a feller once in a while. To-morrow night I'll go out to the +spellin'-match, an' when the chanct comes I'll sidle up to her an' +whisper her real name in her ear. I bet four dollars an' a half +that'll fetch her purty prompt. Doggone, these here sheets air +cold! It's forty below zero right here in this bed."</p> +<p>Anderson Crow soon slept, but he did not dream of the tragedy +the next night was to bring upon Tinkletown, nor of the test his +prowess was to endure.</p> +<p>The next night and the "spellin'-bee" at school No. 5 came on +apace together. It was bitterly cold and starlight. By eight +o'clock the warm schoolhouse was comfortably filled with the +"spellers" of the neighbourhood, their numbers increased by +competitors from Tinkletown itself. In the crowd were men and women +who time after time had "spelled down" whole companies, and who +were eager for the conflict. They had "studied up" on their +spelling for days in anticipation of a hard battle in the words. +Mrs. Borum and Mrs. Cartwill, both famous for their victories and +for the rivalry that existed between them, were selected as +captains of the opposing sides, and Miss Banks herself was to "give +out" the words. The captains selected their forces, choosing +alternately from the anxious crowd of grown folks. There were no +children there, for it was understood that big words would be given +out—words children could not pronounce, much less spell.</p> +<p>The teacher was amazingly pretty on this eventful night. She was +dressed as no other woman in Bramble County, except Rosalie Gray, +could have attired herself—simply, tastefully, daintily. Her +face was flushed and eager and the joy of living glowed in every +feature. Ed Higgins and 'Rast Little were struck senseless, +nerveless by this vision of health and loveliness. Anderson Crow +stealthily admitted to himself that she was a stranger in a strange +land; she was not of Tinkletown or any place like it.</p> +<p>Just as the captains were completing their selections of +spellers the door opened and three strangers entered the +school-room, overcoated and furred to the tips of their +noses—two men and a woman. As Miss Banks rushed forward to +greet them—she had evidently been expecting them—the +startled assemblage caught its breath and stared. To the further +amazement of every one, Rosalie hastened to her side and joined in +the effusive welcome. Every word of joyous greeting was heard by +the amazed listeners and every word from the strangers was as +distinct. Surely the newcomers were friends of long standing. When +their heavy wraps were removed the trio stood forth before as +curious an audience as ever sat spellbound. The men were young, +well dressed and handsome; the woman a beauty of the most dashing +type. Tinkletown's best spellers quivered with excitement.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i122.jpg" id="i122.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/122.jpg"><img src="images/122.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"The teacher was amazingly pretty on this eventful +night"</b></div> +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," said Miss Banks, her voice trembling +with eagerness, "let me introduce my friends, Mrs. Farnsworth, Mr. +Farnsworth, and Mr. Reddon. They have driven over to attend the +spelling-match." Ed Higgins and 'Rast Little observed with sinking +hearts that it was Mr. Reddon whom she led forward by the hand, and +they cursed him inwardly for the look he gave her—because she +blushed beneath it.</p> +<p>"You don't live in Boggs City," remarked Mr. Crow, appointing +himself spokesman. "I c'n deduce that, 'cause you're carrying +satchels an' valises."</p> +<p>"Mr. Crow is a famous detective," explained Miss Banks. Anderson +attempted to assume an unconscious pose, but in leaning back he +missed the end of the bench, and sat sprawling upon the lap of Mrs. +Harbaugh. As Mrs. Harbaugh had little or no lap to speak of, his +downward course was diverted but not stayed. He landed on the floor +with a grunt that broke simultaneously with the lady's squeak; a +fraction of a second later a roar of laughter swept the room. It +was many minutes before quiet was restored and the "match" could be +opened. Mrs. Cartwill chose Mrs. Farnsworth and her rival selected +the husband of the dashing young woman. Mr. Reddon firmly and +significantly announced his determination to sit near the teacher +"to preserve order," and not enter the contest of words.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/125.jpg" width="40%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Possibly it was the presence of the strangers that rattled and +unnerved the famed spellers of both sides, for it was not long +until the lines had dwindled to almost nothing. Three or four +arrogant competitors stood forth and valiantly spelled such words +as "Popocatepetl," "Tschaikowsky," "terpsichorean," +"Yang-tse-Kiang," "Yseult," and scores of words that could scarcely +be pronounced by the teacher herself. But at last, just as the +sleepy watchers began to nod and yawn the hardest, Mrs. Cartwill +stood alone and victorious, her single opponent having gone down on +the word "sassafras." Anderson Crow had "gone down" early in the +match by spelling "kerosene" "kerry-seen." Ed Higgins followed with +"ceriseen," and 'Rast Little explosively had it "coal-oil."</p> +<p>During the turmoil incident to the dispersing of the gathered +hosts Miss Banks made her way to 'Rast Little's side and informed +him that the Farnsworths were to take her to Mrs. Holabird's in +their big sleigh. 'Rast was floored. When he started to +remonstrate, claiming to be her "company," big Tom Reddon +interposed and drew Miss Banks away from her lover's wrath.</p> +<p>"But I'm so sorry for him, Tom," she protested contritely. "He +<i>did</i> bring me here—in a way."</p> +<p>"Well, I'll take you home another way," said good-looking Mr. +Reddon. It was also noticed that Rosalie Gray had much of a +confidential nature to say to Miss Banks as they parted for the +evening, she to go home in Blucher Peabody's new sleigh.</p> +<p>'Rast and Ed Higgins almost came to blows out at the hitch-rack, +where the latter began twitting his discomfited rival. Anderson +Crow kept them apart.</p> +<p>"I'll kill that big dude," growled 'Rast. "He's got no business +comin' here an' rakin' up trouble between me an' her. You mark my +words, I'll fix him before the night's over, doggone his hide!"</p> +<p>At least a dozen men, including Alf Reesling, heard this threat, +and not one of them was to forget it soon. Anderson Crow noticed +that Mrs. Holabird's bob-sled drove away without either Miss Banks +or 'Rast Little in its capacious depths. Miss Banks announced that +her three friends from the city and she would stay behind and close +the schoolhouse, putting everything in order. It was Friday night, +and there would be no session until the following Monday. Mr. Crow +was very sleepy for a detective. He snored all the way home.</p> +<p>The next morning two farmers drove madly into Tinkletown with +the astounding news that some one had been murdered at schoolhouse +No. 5. In passing the place soon after daybreak they had noticed +blood on the snow at the roadside. The school-room door was half +open and they entered. Blood in great quantities smeared the floor +near the stove, but there was no sign of humanity, alive or dead. +Miss Banks's handkerchief was found on the floor saturated.</p> +<p>Moreover, the school-teacher was missing. She had not returned +to the home of Mrs. Holabird the night before. To make the horror +all the more ghastly, Anderson Crow, hastening to the schoolhouse, +positively identified the blood as that of Miss Banks.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3><i>A Tinkletown Sensation</i></h3> +<p>Sensations came thick and fast in Tinkletown during the next few +hours. Investigation proved that 'Rast Little was nowhere to be +found. He had not returned to his home after the spelling-bee, nor +had he been seen since. Mrs. Holabird passed him in the road on her +way home in the "bob-sled." In response to her command to "climb +in" he sullenly said he was going to walk home by a "short cut" +through the woods. A farmer had seen the stylish Farnsworth sleigh +driving north furiously at half-past eleven, the occupants huddled +in a bunch as if to protect themselves from the biting air. The +witness was not able to tell "which was which" in the sleigh, but +he added interest to the situation by solemnly asserting that one +of the persons in the rear seat was "bundled up" more than the +rest, and evidently was unable to sit erect.</p> +<p>According to his tale, the figure was lying over against the +other occupant of the seat. He was also, positive that there were +three figures in the front seat! Who was the extra person? was the +question that flashed into the minds of the listeners. A small boy +came to the schoolhouse at nine o'clock in the morning with 'Rast +Little's new derby hat. He had picked it up at the roadside not far +from the schoolhouse and in the direction taken by the Farnsworth +party.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/129.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Anderson gave orders that no word of the catastrophe be carried +to Rosalie, who was reported to be ill of a fever the next morning +after the spelling-bee. She had a cough, and the doctor had said +that nothing should be said or done to excite her.</p> +<p>The crowd at the schoolhouse grew larger as the morning passed +Everybody talked in whispers; everybody was mystified beyond +belief. All eyes were turned to Anderson Crow, who stood aloof, +pondering as he had never pondered before. In one hand he held Miss +Banks's bloody handkerchief and in the other a common school +text-book on physiology. His badges and stars fairly revelled in +their own importance.</p> +<p>"Don't pester him with questions," warned Isaac Porter, +addressing Alf Reesling, the town drunkard, who had just +arrived.</p> +<p>"But I got something I want to say to him," persisted Alf +eagerly. Two or three strong men restrained him.</p> +<p>"Thunderation, Alf," whispered Elon Jones, "cain't you see he's +figurin' something out? You're liable to throw him clear off the +track if you say a word to him."</p> +<p>"Well, this is something he'd oughter know," almost whimpered +Alf, rubbing his frozen ears.</p> +<p>"Sh!" muttered the bystanders, and poor Alf subsided. He was +unceremoniously hustled into the background as Mr. Crow moved from +the window toward the group.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen," said Anderson gravely, "there is somethin' wrong +here." It is barely possible that this was not news to the crowd, +but with one accord they collectively and severally exchanged looks +of appreciation. "I've been readin' up a bit on the human body, an' +I've proved one thing sure in my own mind."</p> +<p>"You bet you have, Anderson," said Elon Jones. "It's all +settled. Let's go home."</p> +<p>"Settled nothin'!" said the marshal. "It's jest begun. Here's +what I deduce: Miss Banks has been foully dealt with. Ain't this +her blood, an' ain't she used her own individual handkerchief to +stop it up? It's blood right square from her heart, gentlemen!"</p> +<p>"I don't see how—" began Ed Higgins; but Anderson silenced +him with a look.</p> +<p>"Of course <i>you</i> don't, but you would if you'd 'a' been a +detective as long's I have. What in thunder do you s'pose I got +these badges and these medals fer? Fer <i>not</i> seein' how? No, +siree! I got 'em fer <i>seein</i>' how; that's what!"</p> +<p>"But, Andy—"</p> +<p>"Don't call me 'Andy,'" commanded Mr. Crow.</p> +<p>"Well, then, Anderson, I'd like to know how the dickens she +could use her own handkerchief if she was stabbed to the heart," +protested Ed. He had been crying half the time. Anderson was +stunned for the moment.</p> +<p>"Why—why—now, look here, Ed Higgins, I ain't got +time to explain things to a derned idgit like you. Everybody else +understands <i>how</i>, don't you?" and he turned to the crowd. +Everybody said yes. "Well, that shows what a fool you are, Ed. +Don't bother me any more. I've got work to do."</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson," began Alf Reesling from the outer circle, "I +got something important to tell—"</p> +<p>"Who is that? Alf Reesling?" cried Anderson wrathfully.</p> +<p>"Yes; I want to see you private, Anderson. Its important," +begged Alf.</p> +<p>"How many times have I got to set down on you, Alf Reesling?" +exploded Anderson. "Doggone, I'd like to know how a man's to solve +mysteries if he's got to stand around half the time an' listen to +fambly quarrels. Tell yer wife I'll—"</p> +<p>"This ain't no family quarrel. Besides, I ain't got no wife. +It's about this here—"</p> +<p>"That'll do, now, Alf! Not another word out of you!" commanded +Anderson direfully.</p> +<p>"But, dern you, Anderson," exploded Alf, "I've got to tell +you—"</p> +<p>But Anderson held up a hand.</p> +<p>"Don't swear in the presence of the dead," he said solemnly. +"You're drunk, Alf; go home!" And Alf, news and all was hustled +from the schoolhouse by a self-appointed committee of ten.</p> +<p>"Now, we'll search fer the body," announced Anderson. "Git out +of the way, Bud!"</p> +<p>"I ain't standin' on it," protested twelve-year-old Bud +Long.</p> +<p>"Well, you're standin' mighty near them blood-stains +an'—"</p> +<p>"Yes, 'n ain't blood a part of the body?" rasped Isaac Porter +scornfully; whereupon Bud faded into the outer rim.</p> +<p>"First we'll look down cellar," said Mr. Crow. "Where's the +cellar at?"</p> +<p>"There ain't none," replied Elon Jones.</p> +<p>"What? No cellar? Well, where in thunder did they hide the body, +then?"</p> +<p>"There's an attic," ventured Joe Perkins.</p> +<p>A searching party headed by Anderson Crow shinned up the ladder +to the low garret. No trace of a body was to be found, and the +searchers came down rather thankfully. Then, under Mr. Crow's +direction, they searched the wood piles, the woods, and the fields +for many rods in all directions. At noon they congregated at the +schoolhouse. Alf Reesling was there.</p> +<p>"Find it?" said he thickly, with a cunning leer. He had been +drinking. Anderson was tempted to club him half to death, but +instead he sent him home with Joe Perkins, refusing absolutely to +hear what the town drunkard had to say.</p> +<p>"Well, you'll wish you'd listened to me," ominously hiccoughed +Alf; and then, as a parting shot, "I wouldn't tell you now fer +eighteen dollars cash. You c'n go to thunder!" It was +<i>lèse majesté</i>, but the crowd did nothing worse +than stare at the offender.</p> +<p>Before starting off on the trail of the big sleigh, Anderson +sent this message by wire to the lawyers in Chicago:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"<i>I have found the girl you want, but the body is lost. Would +you just as soon have her dead as alive</i>?</p> +<p>"ANDERSON CROW."</p> +</div> +<p>In a big bob-sled the marshal and a picked sextette of men set +off at one o'clock on the road over which the sleigh had travelled +many hours before. Anderson had failed to report the suspected +crime to the sheriff at Boggs City and was working alone on the +mystery. He said he did not want anybody from town interfering with +his affairs.</p> +<p>"Say, Andy—Anderson," said Harry Squires, now editor of +the <i>Banner</i>, "maybe we're hunting the wrong body and the +wrong people."</p> +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> +<p>"Well, ain't 'Rast Little missing? Maybe he's been killed, eh? +And say, ain't there some chance that he did the killing? Didn't he +say he was going to murder that city chap? Well, supposing he did. +We're on the wrong track, ain't we?"</p> +<p>"Doggone you, Harry, that don't fit in with my deductions," +wailed Anderson. "I wish you'd let me alone. 'Rast may have done +the killin', but it's our place to find the body, ain't it? Whoever +has been slew was taken away last night in the sleigh. S'posin it +was Mr. Reddon! Well, consarn it, ain't he got a body same as +anybody else? We've just got to find somebody's body, that's all. +We've got to prove the corpus deelicti. Drive up, Bill!"</p> +<p>With a perseverance that spoke well for the detective's +endurance, but ill for his intelligence, the "bob" sped along +aimlessly. It was ridiculous to think of tracking a sleigh over a +well-travelled road, and it was not until they reached the +cross-roads that Harry Squires suggested that inquiries be made of +the farmers in the neighbourhood. After diligent effort, a farmer +was discovered who said he had heard the sleigh bells at midnight, +and, peering from his window, had caught a glimpse of the party +turning south at the cross-roads.</p> +<p>"Jest as I thought!" exclaimed Anderson. "They went south so's +to skip Boggs City. Boys, they've got her body er 'Rast's body er +that other feller's body with 'em, an' they're skootin' down this +pike so's to get to the big bridge. My idee is that they allowed to +drop the body in the river, which ain't friz plum over."</p> +<p>"Gee! We ain't expected to search all over the bottom of the +river, are we, Anderson?" shivered Isaac Porter, the pump +repairer.</p> +<p>"<i>I</i> ain't," said the leader, "but I can deputise anybody I +want to."</p> +<p>And so they hurried on to the six-span bridge that crossed the +ice-laden river. As they stood silent, awed and shivering on the +middle span, staring down into the black water with its navy of +swirling ice-chunks, even the heart of Anderson Crow chilled and +grew faint.</p> +<p>"Boys," he said, "we've lost the track! Not even a bloodhound +could track 'em in that water."</p> +<p>"Bloodhound?" sniffed Harry Squires. "A hippopotamus, you +mean."</p> +<p>They were hungry and cold, and they were ready to turn homeward. +Anderson said he "guessed" he'd turn the job over to the sheriff +and his men. Plainly, he was much too hungry to do any more +trailing. Besides, for more than an hour he had been thinking of +the warm wood fire at home. Bill Rubley was putting the "gad" to +the horses when a man on horseback rode up from the opposite end of +the bridge. He had come far and in a hurry, and he recognised +Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson!" he called, "somebody broke into Colonel +Randall's summer home last night an' they're there yet. Got fires +goin' in all the stoves, an' havin' a high old time. They ain't got +no business there, becuz the place is closed fer the winter. Aleck +Burbank went over to order 'em out; one of the fellers said he'd +bust his head if he didn't clear out. I think it's a gang!"</p> +<p>A hurried interview brought out the facts. The invaders had come +up in a big sleigh long before dawn, and—but that was +sufficient. Anderson and his men returned to the hunt, eager and +sure of their prey. Darkness was upon them when they came in sight +of Colonel Randall's country place in the hills. There were lights +in the windows and people were making merry indoors; while outside +the pursuing Nemesis and his men were wondering how and where to +assault the stronghold.</p> +<p>"I'll jest walk up an' rap on the door," said Anderson Crow, +"lettin' on to be a tramp. I'll ast fer somethin' to eat an' a +place to sleep. While I'm out there in the kitchen eatin' you +fellers c'n sneak up an' surround us. Then you c'n let on like +you're lookin' fer me because I'd robbed a hen-roost er something, +an' that'll get 'em off their guard. Once we all git inside the +house with these shotguns we've got 'em where we want 'em. Then +I'll make 'em purduce the body."</p> +<p>"Don't we git anythin' to eat, too?" demanded Isaac Porter +faintly.</p> +<p>"The horses ain't had nothin' to eat, Ike," said Anderson. +"Ain't you as good as a horse?"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3><i>A Case of Mistaken Identity</i></h3> +<p>Detective Crow found little difficulty in gaining admittance to +Colonel Randall's summer home. He had secreted his badge, and it +was indeed a sorry-looking tramp who asked for a bite to eat at the +kitchen door.</p> +<p>Three or four young women were busy with chafing dishes in this +department of the house, and some good-looking young men were +looking on and bothering them with attentions. In the front part of +the house a score of people were laughing and making merry.</p> +<p>"Gosh!" said the new tramp, twisting his chin whiskers, "how +many of you are there?"</p> +<p>"Oh, there are many more at home like us," trilled out one of +the young women gaily. "You're just in time, you poor old thing, to +have some of the bride-to-be's cake."</p> +<p>"I guess I'm in the wrong house," murmured Anderson blankly. "Is +it a weddin'?"</p> +<p>"No; but there will be one before many days. It's just a +reunion. How I wish Rosalie Gray were here!" cried another +girl.</p> +<p>Just then there was a pounding on the door, and an instant later +Isaac Porter stalked in at the head of the posse.</p> +<p>"Throw up your hands!" called Anderson, addressing himself to +the posse, the members of which stopped in blank amazement. Some of +them obligingly stuck their hands on high. "What do you want +here?"</p> +<p>"We—we—we're lookin' fer a tramp who said he robbed +a hen roost," faltered Isaac Porter.</p> +<p>"What is the meaning of all this?" called a strong voice from +the dining-room, and the flabbergasted Tinkletownians turned to +face Colonel Randall himself, the owner of the house.</p> +<p>"Derned if I know!" muttered Anderson Crow; and he spoke the +truth.</p> +<p>"Why, it's Anderson Crow!" cried a gay young voice.</p> +<p>"Jumpin' Jehosophat!" ejaculated the detective; "it's the +body!"</p> +<p>"The school-teacher!" exclaimed the surprised Tinkletownians, as +with their eyes they proceeded to search the figure before them for +blood stains. But no sooner had the chorused words escaped their +lips than they realised how wretchedly commonplace was their +blundering expression in comparison with the faultlessly +professional phraseology of their leader; and, overwhelmed with +mortification, the posse ached to recall them; for that the correct +technical term had been applied by one for years trained to the +vernacular of his calling was little consolation to these sensitive +souls, now consumed with envy.</p> +<p>In the meantime, the quarry, if we may be permitted so to +designate her, stood before them as pretty as a picture. At her +side was Tom Reddon, and a dozen guests of the house fell in behind +them.</p> +<p>"Did Rosalie tell you?" demanded Miss Banks. "The mean thing! +She said she wouldn't."</p> +<p>"Ro—Rosalie!" gasped Anderson; "tell me what?" +nervously.</p> +<p>"That I was—was coming over here with Tom. Didn't she tell +you?"</p> +<p>"I should say not. If she'd told me you don't suppose I'd'a' +driv' clear over here in this kinder weather fer nothin', do you? +Thunder! Did she know 'bout it?"</p> +<p>"Certainly, Mr. Crow. She helped with the plans."</p> +<p>"Well, good gosh a'mighty! An' we was a-keepin' from her the +awful news fer fear 'twould give her a backset."</p> +<p>"Awful news! What do you mean? Oh, you frighten me +terribly!"</p> +<p>"Doggone! I don't believe Rosalie was sick at all," continued +Anderson, quite regardless of the impatience of his listeners; "she +jest wanted to keep from answerin' questions. She jest regularly +let everybody believe you had been slaughtered, an' never opened +her mouth."</p> +<p>"Slaughtered!" cried half a dozen people.</p> +<p>"Sure! Hain't you heard 'bout the murder?"</p> +<p>"Murder?" apprehensively from the excited New Yorkers.</p> +<p>"Yes—the teacher of schoolhouse No. 5 was brutally +butchered las—las—night—by—"</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i140.jpg" id="i140.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/140.jpg"><img src="images/140.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"What is the meaning of all this?"</b></div> +<p>"Go slow, Anderson! Better hold your horses!" cautioned Harry +Squires. "Don't forget the body's alive and kic—" and +stopping short, in the hope that his break might escape the +school-teacher's attention, he confusedly substituted, "and +here."</p> +<p>Anderson's jaw dropped, but the movement was barely perceptible, +the discomfiture temporary, for to the analytical mind of the great +detective the fact that a murder had been committed was fully +established by the discovery of the blood. That a body was +obviously necessary for the continuance of further investigations +he frankly acknowledged to himself; and not for one instant would +any supposition or explanation other than assassination be +tolerated. And it was with unshaken conviction that he +declared:</p> +<p>"Well, somebody was slew, wasn't they? That's as plain's the +nose on y'r face. Don't you contradict me, Harry Squires. I guess +Anderson Crow knows blood when he sees it."</p> +<p>"Do you mean to tell me that you've been trailing us all day in +the belief that some one of us had killed somebody?" demanded Tom +Reddon.</p> +<p>Harry Squires explained the situation, Anderson being too far +gone to step into the breach. It may be of interest to say that the +Tinkletown detective was the sensation of the hour. The crowd, +merry once more, lauded him to the skies for the manner in which +the supposed culprits had been trailed, and the marshal's pomposity +grew almost to the bursting point.</p> +<p>"But how about that blood?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Harry Squires with a sly grin, "it was positively +identified as yours, Miss Banks."</p> +<p>"Well, it's the first time I was ever fooled," confessed +Anderson glibly. "I'll have to admit it. The blood really belonged +to 'Rast Little. Boys, the seegars are on me."</p> +<p>"No, they're on me," exclaimed Tom Reddon, producing a box of +Perfectos.</p> +<p>"But, Miss Banks, you are wanted in Chicago," insisted Anderson. +Reddon interrupted him.</p> +<p>"Right you are, my dear Sherlock, and I'm going to take her +there as soon as I can. It's what I came East for."</p> +<p>"Ain't—I mean, wasn't you Miss Lovering?" muttered +Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"Good heavens, no!" cried Miss Banks. "Who is she—a +shoplifter?"</p> +<p>"I'll tell you the story, Mr. Crow, if you'll come with me," +said Mr. Farnsworth, stepping forward with a wink.</p> +<p>In the library he told the Tinkletown posse that Tom Reddon had +met Miss Banks while she was at school in New York. He was a +Chicago millionaire's son and she was the daughter of wealthy New +York people. Her mother was eager to have the young people marry, +but the girl at that time imagined herself to be in love with +another man. In a pique she left school and set forth to earn her +own living. A year's hardship as governess in the family of +Congressman Ritchey and subsequent disillusionment as a country +school-teacher brought her to her senses and she realised that she +cared for Tom Reddon after all. She and Miss Gray together prepared +the letter which told Reddon where she could be found, and that +eager young gentleman did the rest. He had been waiting for months +for just such a message from her. The night of the spelling-match +he induced her to come to Colonel Randall's, and now the whole +house-party, including Miss Banks, was to leave on the following +day for New York. The marriage would take place in a very few +weeks.</p> +<p>"I'll accept your explanation," said Mr. Crow composedly as he +took a handful of cigars. "Well, I guess I'll be startin' back. +It's gettin' kind o' late-like."</p> +<p>There was a telegram at the livery stable for him when he +reached that haven of warmth and rest in Tinkletown about dawn the +next day. It was from Chicago and marked "Charges collect."</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>"What girl and whose body," it said, "do you refer to? Miss +Lovering has been dead two years, and we are settling the estate in +behalf of the other heirs. We were trying to establish her place of +residence. Never mind the body you have lost."</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>"Doggone," said Anderson, chuckling aloud, "that was an awful +good joke on 'Rast, wasn't it?"</p> +<p>The stablemen stood around and looked at him with jaws that were +drooping helplessly. The air seemed laden with a sombre uncertainty +that had not yet succeeded in penetrating the nature of Marshal +Crow.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/145.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Is it from her?" finally asked Ike Smith hoarsely, his lips +trembling.</p> +<p>"From what her?"</p> +<p>"Rosalie."</p> +<p>"Thunder, no! It's from my lawyers in Chicago."</p> +<p>"Ain't you—ain't you heerd about it?" half groaned Ike, +moving away as if he expected something calamitous.</p> +<p>"What the dickens are you fellers drivin' at?" demanded +Anderson. The remainder of his posse deserted the red-hot stove and +drew near with the instinctive feeling that something dreadful had +happened.</p> +<p>"Ro—Rosalie has been missin' sence early last night. She +was grabbed by some feller near Mrs. Luce's, chucked into a big +wagon an' rushed out of town before Ros Crow could let out a yell. +Clean stole her—look out! Ketch him, Joe!"</p> +<p>Anderson dropped limply into a hostler's arms.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3><i>Rosalie Disappears</i></h3> +<p>Things had happened in Tinkletown that night. Alf Reesling +finally found some one who would listen to his story. He told the +minister and the minister alarmed the town. To be brief, Alf +admitted that 'Rast Little was at his house in the outskirts of the +village, laid up with a broken arm and a bad cut in the top of his +head.</p> +<p>"He came crawlin' up to my place about six o'clock in the +mornin'," explained Alf, "an' I took the poor cuss in. That's what +I wanted to tell Anderson, but the old rip wouldn't listen to me. +Seems as though 'Rast waited around the schoolhouse last night to +git a crack at that feller from town. Miss Banks and her three +friends set around the stove in the schoolhouse for about an hour +after the crowd left, an' 'Rast got so cold he liked to died out +there in the woodshed.</p> +<p>"Purty soon they all come out, an' 'Rast cut acrost the lot to +git inside the house by the fire. He was so derned cold that he +didn't feel like crackin' anybody. When they wasn't lookin' he +sneaked inside. Jest as he was gittin' ready to hug the stove he +heard Miss Banks an' one of the men comin' back. He shinned up the +ladder into the garret just in time. In they come an' the feller +lit a lamp. 'Rast could hear 'em talkin'. She said good-bye to the +schoolhouse forever, an' the feller kissed her a couple of times. +'Rast pretty nigh swore out loud at that. Then she said she'd leave +a note in her desk fer the trustees, resignin' her job, er whatever +she called it. He heard her read the note to the man, an' it said +somethin' about goin' away unexpected to git married. 'Rast says ef +Anderson had looked in the desk he'd have found the note.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/147.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Then she packed up some books an' her an' the feller went out. +'Rast was paralysed. He heerd the sleigh-bells jingle an' then he +come to. He started down the ladder so quick that he missed his +hold and went kerslam clear to the bottom. Doggone ef he didn't +light on his head, too. He don't know how long he laid there, but +finally he was resurrected enough to crawl over by the stove. His +arm was broke an' he was bleedin' like a stuck hog. Miss Banks had +left her handkerchief on the desk, an' he says he tried to bind up +his head with it, but it was too infernal small. Somehow he got +outside an' wandered around half crazy fer a long time, finally +pullin' up at my house, derned nigh froze to death an' so weak he +couldn't walk no more. He'd lost his hat an' his ear muffs an' his +way all at the same time. If Anderson had let me talk this mornin' +he'd 'a' knowed there wasn't no murder. It was just a match."</p> +<p>Hours passed before Anderson was himself again and able to +comprehend the details of the story which involved the +disappearance of his ward. It slowly filtered through his mind as +he sat stark-eyed and numb before the kitchen fire that this was +the means her mysterious people had taken to remove her from his +custody. The twenty years had expired, and they had come to claim +their own. There was gloom in the home of Anderson Crow—gloom +so dense that death would have seemed bright in comparison. Mrs. +Crow was prostrated, Anderson in a state of mental and physical +collapse, the children hysterical.</p> +<p>All Tinkletown stood close and ministered dumbly to the misery +of the bereaved ones, but made no effort to follow or frustrate the +abductors. The town seemed as helpless as the marshal, not +willingly or wittingly, but because it had so long known him as +leader that no one possessed the temerity to step into his place, +even in an hour of emergency.</p> +<p>A dull state of paralysis fell upon the citizens, big and +little. It was as if universal palsy had been ordained to pinch the +limbs and brains of Tinkletown until the hour came for the +rehabilitation of Anderson Crow himself. No one suggested a move in +any direction—in fact, no one felt like moving at all. +Everything stood stockstill while Anderson slowly pulled himself +together; everything waited dumbly for its own comatose condition +to be dispelled by the man who had been hit the hardest.</p> +<p>It was not until late in the afternoon that Blucher Peabody, the +druggist, awoke from his lethargy and moved as though he intended +to take the initiative. "Blootch" was Rosalie's most persistent +admirer. He had fallen heir to his father's apothecary shop and +notion store, and he was regarded as one of the best catches in +town. He approached the half-frozen crowd that huddled near old +Mrs. Luce's front gate. In this crowd were some of the prominent +men of the town, young and old; they left their places of business +every half hour or so and wandered aimlessly to the now historic +spot, as if drawn by a magnet. Just why they congregated there no +one could explain and no one attempted to do so. Presumably it was +because the whole town centred its mind on one of two +places—the spot where Rosalie was seized or the home of +Anderson Crow. When they were not at Mrs. Luce's gate they were +tramping through Anderson's front yard and into his house.</p> +<p>"Say," said "Blootch" so loudly that the crowd felt like +remonstrating with him, "what's the use of all this?"</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/150.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>No one responded. No one was equal to it on such short +notice.</p> +<p>"We've got to do something besides stand around and whisper," he +said. "We've got to find Rosalie Gray."</p> +<p>"But good gosh!" ejaculated Isaac Porter, "they've got purty +nigh a day's start of us."</p> +<p>"Well, that don't matter. Anderson would do as much for us. +Let's get a move on."</p> +<p>"But where in thunder will we hunt?" murmured George Ray.</p> +<p>"To the end of the earth," announced Blootch, inflating his +chest and slapping it violently, a strangely personal proceeding, +which went unnoticed. He had reached the conclusion that his chance +to be a hero was at hand and not to be despised. Here was the +opportunity to outstrip all of his competitors in the race for +Rosalie's favour. It might be confessed that, with all his good +intentions, his plans were hopelessly vague. The group braced up a +little at the sound of his heroic words.</p> +<p>"But the derned thing's round," was the only thing Ed Higgins +could find to say. Ed, as fickle as the wind, was once more deeply +in love with Rosalie, having switched from Miss Banks immediately +after the visit to Colonel Randall's.</p> +<p>"Aw, you go to Guinea!" was Blootch's insulting reply. Nothing +could be more disparaging than that, but Ed failed to retaliate. +"Let's appoint a committee to wait on Anderson and find out what he +thinks we'd better do."</p> +<p>"But Anderson ain't—" began some one. Blootch calmly +waived him into silence.</p> +<p>"What he wants is encouragement, and not a lot of soup and broth +and lemonade. He ain't sick. He's as able-bodied as I am. Every +woman in town took soup to him this noon. He needs a good stiff +drink of whiskey and a committee to cheer him up. I took a bottle +up to 'Rast Little last night and he acted like another man."</p> +<p>At last it was decided that a committee should first wait on +Anderson, ascertaining his wishes in the premises, and then proceed +to get at the bottom of the mystery. In forming this committee the +wise men of the town ignored Mr. Peabody, and he might have been +left off completely had he not stepped in and appointed himself +chairman.</p> +<p>The five good men and true descended upon the marshal late in +the afternoon, half fearful of the result, but resolute. They found +him slowly emerging from his spell of lassitude. He greeted them +with a solemn nod of the head. Since early morning he had been +conscious of a long stream of sympathisers passing through the +house, but it was not until now that he felt equal to the task of +recognising any of them.</p> +<p>His son Roscoe had just finished telling him the story of the +abduction. Roscoe's awestruck tones and reddened eyes carried great +weight with them, and for the tenth time that day he had his +sisters in tears. With each succeeding repetition the details grew +until at last there was but little of the original event remaining, +a fact which his own family properly overlooked.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen," said Anderson, as if suddenly coming from a trance, +"this wasn't the work of Tinkletown desperadoes." Whereupon the +committee felt mightily relieved. The marshal displayed signs of a +returning energy that augured well for the enterprise. After the +chairman had impressively announced that something must be done, +and that he was willing to lead his little band to death's +door—and beyond, if necessary—Mr. Crow pathetically +upset all their hopes by saying that he had long been expecting +such a calamity, and that nothing could be done.</p> +<p>"They took the very night when I was not here to pertect her," +he lamented. "It shows that they been a-watchin' me all along. The +job was did by persons who was in the employ of her family, an' she +has been carried off secretly to keep me from findin' out who and +what her parents were. Don't ye see? Her mother—or father, +fer that matter—couldn't afford to come right out plain an' +say they wanted their child after all these years. The only way was +to take her away without givin' themselves away. It's been the plan +all along. There ain't no use huntin' fer her, gentlemen. She's in +New York by this time, an' maybe she's ready fer a trip to +Europe."</p> +<p>"But I should think she'd telegraph to you," said Blootch.</p> +<p>"Telegraph yer granny! Do you s'pose they'd 'a' stole her if +they intended to let her telegraph to anybody? Not much. They're +spiritin' her away until her estate's settled. After a while it +will all come out, an' you'll see if I ain't right. But she's gone. +They've got her away from me an'—an' we got to stand it, +that's all. I—I—cain't bear to think about it. It's +broke my heart mighty ne—near. Don't mind me +if—I—cry, boys. You would, too, if you was me."</p> +<p>As the committee departed soon after without any plan of action +arising from the interview with the dejected marshal, it may be +well to acquaint the reader with the history of the abduction, as +told by Roscoe Crow and his bosom friend, Bud Long, thoroughly +expurgated.</p> +<p>According to instructions, no one in the Crow family mentioned +the strange disappearance of Elsie Banks to Rosalie. Nor was she +told of the pursuit by the marshal and his posse. The girl, far +from being afflicted with a fever, really now kept in her room by +grief over the departure of her friend and companion. She was in +tears all that night and the next day, suffering intensely in her +loss. Rosalie did not know that the teacher was to leave Tinkletown +surreptitiously until after the spelling-bee. The sly, blushing +announcement came as a shock, but she was loyal to her friend, and +not a word in exposure escaped from her lips. Of course, she knew +nothing of the sensational developments that followed the +uncalled-for flight of Elsie Banks.</p> +<p>Shortly after the supper dishes had been cleared away Rosalie +came downstairs and announced that she was going over to read to +old Mrs. Luce, who was bedridden. Her guardian's absence was not +explained to her, and she did not in the least suspect that he had +been away all day on a fool's errand. Roscoe and Bud accompanied +her to Mrs. Luce's front door, heavily bound by promises to hold +their tongues regarding Miss Banks.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/154.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"We left her there at old Mis' Luce's," related Roscoe, "an' +then went over to Robertson's Pond to skate. She tole us to stop in +fer her about nine o'clock, didn't she, Bud? Er was it eight?" He +saw the necessity for accuracy.</p> +<p>"Ten," corrected Bud deliberately.</p> +<p>"Well, pop, we stopped fer her, an'—an'—"</p> +<p>"Stop yer blubberin', Roscoe," commanded Anderson as harshly as +he could.</p> +<p>"An' got her," concluded Roscoe. "She put on her shawl an' +mittens an' said she'd run us a race all the way home. We all got +ready to start right in front of old Mis' Luce's gate. Bud he +stopped an' said, 'Here comes Tony Brink.' We all looked around, +an' sure enough, a heavy-set feller was comin' to'rds us. It looked +like Tony, but when he got up to us I see it wasn't him. He ast us +if we could tell him where Mr. Crow lived—"</p> +<p>"He must 'a' been a stranger," deduced Anderson +mechanically.</p> +<p>"—an' Bud said you lived right on ahead where the street +lamps was. Jest then a big sleigh turned out of the lane back of +Mis' Luce's an' drove up to where we was standin'. Bud was standin' +jest like this— me here an' Rosalie a little off to one side. +S'posin' this chair was her an'—"</p> +<p>"Yes—yes, go on," from Anderson.</p> +<p>"The sleigh stopped, and there was two fellers in it. There was +two seats, too."</p> +<p>"Front and back?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"I understand. It was a double-seated one," again deduced the +marshal.</p> +<p>"An' nen, by gum, 'fore we could say Jack Robinson, one of the +fellers jumped out an' grabbed Rosalie. The feller on the groun', +he up an' hit me a clip in the ear. I fell down, an' so did +Bud—"</p> +<p>"He hit me on top of the head," corrected Bud sourly.</p> +<p>"I heerd Rosalie start to scream, but the next minute they had a +blanket over her head an' she was chucked into the back seat. It +was all over in a second. I got up, but 'fore I could run a feller +yelled, 'Ketch him!' An' another feller did. 'Don't let 'em get +away,' said the driver in low, hissin' tones—"</p> +<p>"Regular villains," vowed Anderson.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir. 'Don't let 'em git away er they'll rouse the town.' +'What'll we do with 'em?' asked the feller who held both of us. +'Kill 'em?' Gosh, I was skeered. Neither one of us could yell, +'cause he had us by the neck, an' he was powerful strong. 'Chuck +'em in here an' I'll tend to 'em,' said the driver. Next thing we +knowed we was in the front of the sleigh, an' the whole outfit was +off like a runaway. They said they'd kill us if we made a noise, +an' we didn't. I wish I'd'a' had my rifle, doggone it! I'd'a' +showed 'em."</p> +<p>"They drove like thunder out to'rds Boggs City fer about two +mile," said Bud, who had been silent as long as human nature would +permit. "'Nen they stopped an' throwed us out in the road. 'Go +home, you devils, an' don't you tell anybody about us er I'll come +back here some day an' give you a kick in the slats.'</p> +<p>"Slats?" murmured Anderson.</p> +<p>"That's short fer ribs," explained Bud loftily.</p> +<p>"Well, why couldn't he have said short ribs an' been done with +it?" complained Anderson.</p> +<p>"Then they whipped up an' turned off west in the pike," resumed +Bud. "We run all the way home an' tole Mr. Lamson, an' +he—"</p> +<p>"Where was Rosalie all this time?" asked Anderson.</p> +<p>"Layin' in the back seat covered with a blanket, jest the same +as if she was dead. I heerd 'em say somethin' about chloroformin' +her. What does chloroform smell like, Mr. Crow?"</p> +<p>"Jest like any medicine. It has drugs in it. They use it to pull +teeth. Well, what then?"</p> +<p>"Well," interposed Roscoe, "Mr. Lamson gave the alarm, an' +nearly ever'body in town got out o' bed. They telegraphed to Boggs +City an' all around, but it didn't seem to do no good. Them horses +went faster'n telegraphs."</p> +<p>"Did you ever see them fellers before?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; but I think I'd know 'em with their masks off."</p> +<p>"Was they masked?"</p> +<p>"Their faces were."</p> +<p>"Oh, my poor little Rosalie!" sobbed old Anderson +hopelessly.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>The Haunted House</h3> +<p>Days passed without word or sign from the missing girl. The +marshal haunted the post-office and the railroad station, hoping +with all his poor old heart that word would come from her; but the +letter was not there, nor was there a telegram at the station when +he strolled over to that place. The county officials at Boggs City +came down and began a cursory investigation, but Anderson's +emphatic though doleful opinions set them quite straight, and they +gave up the quest. There was nothing to do but to sit back and +wait.</p> +<p>In those three days Anderson Crow turned greyer and older, +although he maintained a splendid show of resignation. He had made +a perfunctory offer of reward for Rosalie, dead or alive, but he +knew all the time that it would be fruitless. Mark Riley, the +bill-poster, stuck up the glaring reward notices as far away as the +telegraph poles in Clay County. The world was given to understand +that $1000 reward would be paid for Rosalie's return or for +information leading to the apprehension and capture of her +abductors.</p> +<p>There was one very mysterious point in connection with the +affair—something so strange that it bordered on the +supernatural. No human being in Bramble County except the two boys +had seen the double-seated sleigh. It had disappeared as if +swallowed by the earth itself.</p> +<p>"Well, it don't do any good to cry over spilt milk," said +Anderson bravely. "She's gone, an' I only hope she ain't bein' +mistreated. I don't see why they should harm her. She's never done +nobody a wrong. Like as not she's been taken to a comfortable place +in New York, an' we'll hear from her as soon as she recovers from +the shock. There ain't no use huntin' fer her, I know, but I jest +can't help nosin' around a little. Mebby I can git some track of +her. I'd give all I got in this world to know that she's safe an' +sound, no matter if I never see her ag'in."</p> +<p>The hungry look in his eyes deepened, and no one bandied jests +with him as was the custom in days gone by.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>There were not many tramps practising in that section of the +State. Anderson Crow proudly announced that they gave Tinkletown a +wide berth because of his prowess; but the vagabond gentry took an +entirely different view of the question. They did not infest the +upper part of the State for the simple but eloquent reason that it +meant starvation to them. The farmers compelled the weary wayfarer +to work all day like a borrowed horse for a single meal at the +"second table." There was no such thing as a "hand-out," as it is +known in the tramp's vocabulary. It is not extraordinary, +therefore, that tramps found the community so unattractive that +they cheerfully walked miles to avoid it. A peculiarly +well-informed vagrant once characterised the up-state farmer as +being so "close that he never shaved because it was a waste of +hair."</p> +<p>It is hardly necessary to state, in view of the attitude of both +farmer and tramp, that the misguided vagrant who wandered that way +was the object of distinct, if not distinguished, curiosity. In the +country roads he was stared at with a malevolence that chilled his +appetite, no matter how long he had been cultivating it on barren +soil. In the streets of Tinkletown, and even at the county seat, he +was an object of such amazing concern that he slunk away in pure +distress. It was indeed an unsophisticated tramp who thought to +thrive in Bramble County even for a day and a night. In front of +the general store and post-office at Tinkletown there was a +sign-post, on which Anderson Crow had painted these words:</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"No tramps or Live Stock +Allowed on these Streets.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">By order of</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">A. CROW, Marshal."</span></p> +<p>The live stock disregarded the command, but the tramp took +warning. On rare occasions he may have gone through some of the +houses in Tinkletown, but if he went through the streets no one was +the wiser. Anderson Crow solemnly but studiously headed him off in +the outskirts, and he took another direction. Twice in his career +he drove out tramps who had burglarised the houses of prominent +citizens in broad daylight, but what did it matter so long as the +"hoboes" were kept from desecrating the main street of the town? +Mr. Crow's official star, together with his badge from the New York +detective agency, his Sons of the Revolution pin, and his G.A.R. +insignia, made him a person to be feared. If the weather became too +hot for coat and vest the proud dignitary fastened the badges to +his suspenders, and their presence glorified the otherwise humble +"galluses."</p> +<p>On the fourth day after the abduction Marshal Crow was suddenly +aroused from his lethargy by the news that the peace and security +of the neighbourhood was being imposed upon.</p> +<p>"The dickens you say!" he observed, abandoning the perpetual +grip upon his straggling chin whiskers.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," responded the excited small boy, who, with two +companions, had run himself quite out of breath all over town +before he found the officer at Harkin's blacksmith shop.</p> +<p>"Well, dang 'em!" said Mr. Crow impressively.</p> +<p>"We was skatin' in the marsh when we heerd 'em plain as day," +said the other boy. "You bet I'm nuvver goin' nigh that house +ag'in."</p> +<p>"Sho! Bud, they ain't no sech thing as ghosts," said Mr. Crow; +"it's tramps."</p> +<p>"You know that house is ha'nted," protested Bud. "Wasn't ole +Mrs. Rank slew there by her son-in-law? Wasn't she chopped to +pieces and buried there right in her own cellar?"</p> +<p>"Thunderation, boy, that was thirty year ago!"</p> +<p>"Well, nobody's lived in the ha'nted house sence then, has they? +Didn't Jim Smith try to sleep there oncet on a bet, an' didn't he +hear sech awful noises 'at he liked to went crazy?" insisted +Bud.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i162.jpg" id="i162.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/162.jpg"><img src="images/162.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>The haunted house</b></div> +<p>"I <i>do</i> recollect that Jim run two mile past his own house +before he could stop, he was in sech a hurry to git away from the +place. But Jim didn't <i>see</i> anything. Besides, that was twenty +year ago. Ghosts don't hang aroun' a place when there ain't nothin' +to ha'nt. Her son-in-law was hung, an' she ain't got no one else to +pester. I tell you it's tramps."</p> +<p>"Well, we just thought we'd tell you, Mr. Crow," said the first +boy.</p> +<p>In a few minutes it was known throughout the business centre of +Tinkletown that tramps were making their home in the haunted house +down the river, and that Anderson Crow was to ride forth on his +bicycle to rout them out. The haunted house was three miles from +town and in the most desolate section of the bottomland. It was +approachable only through the treacherous swamp on one side or by +means of the river on the other. Not until after the murder of its +owner and builder, old Johanna Rank, was there an explanation +offered for the existence of a home in such an unwholesome +locality.</p> +<p>Federal authorities discovered that she and her son-in-law, Dave +Wolfe, were at the head of a great counterfeiting gang, and that +they had been working up there in security for years, turning out +spurious coins by the hundred. One night Dave up and killed his +mother-in-law, and was hanged for his good deed before he could be +punished for his bad ones. For thirty years the weather-beaten, +ramshackle old cabin in the swamp had been unoccupied except by +birds, lizards, and other denizens of the solitude—always, of +course, including the ghost of old Mrs. Rank.</p> +<p>Inasmuch as Dave chopped her into small bits and buried them in +the cellar, while her own daughter held the lantern, it was not +beyond the range of possibility that certain atoms of the +unlamented Johanna were never unearthed by the searchers. It was +generally believed in the community that Mrs. Rank's spirit came +back every little while to nose around in the dirt of the cellar in +quest of such portions of her person as had not been respectably +interred in the village graveyard.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/165.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Mysterious noises had been heard about the place at the dead +hour of night, and ghostly lights had flitted past the cellar +windows. All Tinkletown agreed that the place was haunted and kept +at a most respectful distance. The three small boys who startled +Marshal Crow from his moping had gone down the river to skate +instead of going to school. They swore that the sound of muffled +voices came from the interior of the cabin, near which they had +inadvertently wandered. Although Dave Wolfe had been dead thirty +years, one of the youngest of the lads was positive that he +recognised the voice of the desperado. And at once the trio fled +the 'cursed spot and brought the horrifying news to Anderson Crow. +The detective was immediately called upon to solve the ghostly +mystery.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/166.jpg" width="40%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Marshal Crow first went to his home and donned his blue coat, +transferring the stars and badges to the greasy lapel of the +garment. He also secured his dark lantern and the official cane of +the village, but why he should carry a cane on a bicycle expedition +was known only to himself. Followed by a horde of small boys and a +few representative citizens of Tinkletown on antiquated wheels, Mr. +Crow pedalled majestically off to the south. Skirting the swamp, +the party approached the haunted house over the narrow path which +ran along the river bank. Once in sight of the dilapidated cabin, +which seemed to slink farther and farther back into the dense +shadows of the late afternoon, with all the diffidence of the +supernatural, the marshal called a halt and announced his +plans.</p> +<p>"You kids go up an' tell them fellers I want to see 'em," he +commanded. The boys fell back and prepared to whimper.</p> +<p>"I don't want to," protested Bud.</p> +<p>"Why don't you go an' tell 'em yourself, Anderson?" demanded +Isaac Porter, the pump repairer.</p> +<p>"Thunderation, Ike, who's runnin' this thing?" retorted Anderson +Crow. "I got a right to deputise anybody to do anything at any +time. Don't you s'pose I know how to handle a job like this? I got +my own idees how to waylay them raskils, an' I reckon I been in the +detectin' business long enough to know how to manage a gol-derned +tramp, ain't I? How's that? Who says I ain't?"</p> +<p>"Nobody said a word, Anderson," meekly observed Jim Borum.</p> +<p>"Well, I <i>thought</i> somebody did. An' I don't want nobody +interferin' with an officer, either. Bud, you an' them two Heffner +boys go up an' tell them loafers to step down here right spry er +I'll come up there an' see about it."</p> +<p>"Gosh, Mr. Crow, I'm a-skeered to!" whimpered Bud. The Heffner +boys started for home on a dead run.</p> +<p>"Askeered to?" sniffed Anderson. "An' your great-grand-dad was +in the Revolution, too. Geminy crickets, ef you was my boy I'd give +you somethin' to be askeered of! Now, Bud, nothin' kin happen to +you. Ain't I here?"</p> +<p>"But suppose they won't come when I tell 'em?"</p> +<p>"Yes, 'n' supposin' 'tain't tramps, but ghosts?" volunteered Mr. +Porter, edging away with his bicycle. It was now quite dark and +menacing in there where the cabin stood. As the outcome of half an +hour's discussion, the whole party advanced slowly upon the house, +Anderson Crow in the lead, his dark lantern in one hand, his cane +in the other. Half way to the house he stopped short and turned to +Bud.</p> +<p>"Gosh dern you, Bud! I don't believe you heerd any noise in +there at all! There ain't no use goin' any further with this, +gentlemen. The dern boys was lyin'. We might jest as well go home." +And he would have started for home had not Isaac Porter uttered a +fearful groan and staggered back against a swamp reed for support, +his horrified eyes glued upon a window in the log house. The reed +was inadequate, and Isaac tumbled over backward.</p> +<p>For a full minute the company stared dumbly at the indistinct +little window, paralysis attacking every sense but that of sight. +At the expiration of another minute the place was deserted, and +Anderson Crow was the first to reach the bicycles far up the river +bank. Every face was as white as chalk, and every voice trembled. +Mr. Crow's dignity asserted itself just as the valiant posse +prepared to "straddle" the wheels in mad flight.</p> +<p>"Hold on!" he panted. "I lost my dark lantern down there. Go +back an' git it, Bud."</p> +<p>"Land o' mighty! Did y'ever see anythin' like it?" gasped Jim +Borum, trying to mount a ten-year-old boy's wheel instead of his +own.</p> +<p>"I'd like to have anybody tell me there ain't no sech things as +ghosts," faltered Uncle Jimmy Borton, who had always said there +wasn't. "Let go, there! Ouch!" The command and subsequent +exclamation were the inevitable results of his unsuccessful attempt +to mount with Elon Jones the same wheel.</p> +<p>"What'd I tell you, Anderson?" exclaimed Isaac Porter. "Didn't I +say it was ghosts? Tramps nothin'! A tramp wouldn't last a second +up in that house. It's been ha'nted fer thirty years an' it gits +worse all the time. What air we goin' to do next?"</p> +<p>Even the valiant Mr. Crow approved of an immediate return to +Tinkletown, and the posse was trying to disentangle its collection +of bicycles when an interruption came from an unsuspected +quarter—a deep, masculine voice arose from the ice-covered +river hard by, almost directly below that section of the bank on +which Anderson and his friends were herded. The result was +startling. Every man leaped a foot in the air and every hair stood +on end; bicycles rattled and clashed together, and Ed Higgins, +hopelessly bewildered, started to run in the direction of the +haunted house.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3><i>Wicker Bonner, Harvard</i></h3> +<p>"Hello, up there!" was what the deep, masculine voice shouted +from the river. Anderson Crow was the first to distinguish the form +of the speaker, and he was not long in deciding that it was far +from ghost-like. With a word of command he brought his disorganised +forces out of chaos and huddled them together as if to resist +attack.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with you?" he demanded, addressing his men in +a loud tone. "Don't get rattled!"</p> +<p>"Are you speaking to me?" called the fresh voice from below.</p> +<p>"Who are you?" demanded Mr. Crow in return.</p> +<p>"Nobody in particular. What's going on up there? What's the +fuss?"</p> +<p>"Come up an' find out." Then Mr. Crow, observing that the man +below was preparing to comply, turned and addressed his squad in +low, earnest tones. "This feller will bear watchin'. He's mixed up +in this thing somehow. Else why is he wanderin' around here close +to the house? I'll question him."</p> +<p>"By gosh, he ain't no ghost!" murmured Ed Higgins, eyeing the +newcomer as he crawled up the bank. "Say, did y' see me a minute +ago? If you fellers had come on, I was goin' right up to search +that house from top to bottom. Was you all askeered to come?"</p> +<p>"Aw, you!" said Anderson Crow in deep scorn.</p> +<p>The next instant a stalwart young fellow stood before the +marshal, who was eyeing him keenly, even imperiously. The +newcomer's good-looking, strong-featured face was lighted up by a +smile of surpassing friendliness.</p> +<p>"It's lonesome as thunder down here, isn't it? Glad to see you, +gentlemen. What's up—a bicycle race?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; we got a little business up here, that's all," +responded Anderson Crow diplomatically. "What air you doin' +here?"</p> +<p>"Skating. My name is Wicker Bonner, and I'm visiting my uncle, +Congressman Bonner, across the river. You know him, I dare say. +I've been hanging around here for a week's hunting, and haven't had +an ounce of luck in all that time. It's rotten! Aha, I see that you +are an officer, sir—a detective, too. By George, can it be +possible that you are searching for some one? If you are, let me in +on it. I'm dying for excitement."</p> +<p>The young man's face was eager and his voice rang true. Besides, +he was a tall, athletic chap, with brawny arms and a broad back. +Altogether, he would make a splendid recruit, thought Anderson +Crow. He was dressed in rough corduroy knickerbockers, the thick +coat buttoned up close to his muffled neck. A woollen cap came down +over his ears and a pair of skates dangled from his arm.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I'm a detective, and we are up here doin' a little +investigatin'. You are from Chicago, I see."</p> +<p>"What makes you think so?"</p> +<p>"Can't fool me. I c'n always tell. You said, 'I've <i>bean</i> +hangin',' instead of 'I've <i>ben</i> hangin'.' See? They say +<i>bean</i> in Chicago. Ha! ha! You didn't think I could deduce +that, did you?"</p> +<p>"I'll confess that I didn't," said Mr. Bonner with a dry smile. +"I'm from Boston, however."</p> +<p>"Sure," interposed Isaac Porter; "that's where the beans come +from, Anderson."</p> +<p>"Well, that's neither here nor there," said Mr. Crow, hastily +changing the subject. "We're wastin' time."</p> +<p>"Stayin' here, you mean?" asked Ed Higgins, quite ready to +start. Involuntarily the eyes of the posse turned toward the house +among the willows. The stranger saw the concerted glance and made +inquiry. Whereupon Mr. Crow, assisted by seven men and five small +boys, told Mr. Wicker Bonner, late of Harvard, what had brought +them from Tinkletown to the haunted house, and what they had seen +upon their arrival. Young Bonner's face glowed with the joy of +excitement.</p> +<p>"Great!" he cried, fastening his happy eyes upon the hated thing +among the trees. "Let's search the place. By George, this is +glorious!"</p> +<p>"Not on your life!" said Ed Higgins. "You can't get me inside +that house. Like as not a feller'd never come out alive."</p> +<p>"Well, better men than we have died," said Mr. Bonner +tranquilly. "Come on; I'll go in first. It's all tommy-rot about +the place being haunted. In any event, ghosts don't monkey around +at this time of day. It's hardly dusk."</p> +<p>"But, gosh dern it," exploded Anderson Crow, "we seen it!"</p> +<p>"I seen it first," said Isaac Porter proudly.</p> +<p>"But I heerd it first," peeped up Master Bud.</p> +<p>"You've all been drinking hard cider or pop or something like +that," said the brawny scoffer.</p> +<p>"Now, see here, you're gittin' fresh, an—" began the +marshal, swelling up like a pigeon.</p> +<p>"Look out behind!" sang out Mr. Bonner, and Anderson jumped +almost out of his shoes, besides ripping his shirt in the back, he +turned so suddenly.</p> +<p>"Jeemses River!" he gasped.</p> +<p>"Never turn your back on an unknown danger," cautioned the young +man serenely. "Be ready to meet it."</p> +<p>"If you're turned t'other way you c'n git a quicker start if you +want to run," suggested Jim Borum, bracing himself with a fresh +chew of tobacco.</p> +<p>"What time is it?" asked Wicker Bonner.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow squinted up through the leafless treetops toward +the setting sun; then he looked at the shadow of a sapling down on +the bank.</p> +<p>"It's about seven minutes past five—in the evenin'," he +said conclusively. Bonner was impolite enough to pull out his watch +for verification.</p> +<p>"You're a minute fast," he observed; but he looked at Anderson +with a new and respectful admiration.</p> +<p>"He c'n detect anything under the sun," said Porter with a +feeble laugh at his own joke.</p> +<p>"Well, let's go up and ransack that old cabin," announced +Bonner, starting toward the willows. The crowd held back. "I'll go +alone if you're afraid to come," he went on. "It's my firm belief +that you didn't see anything and the noise you boys heard was the +wind whistling through the trees. Now, tell the truth, how many of +you saw it?"</p> +<p>"I did," came from every throat so unanimously that Jim Borum's +supplemental oath stood out alone and forceful as a climax.</p> +<p>"Then it's worth investigating," announced the Boston man. "It +is certainly a very mysterious affair, and you, at least, Mr. Town +Marshal, should back me up in the effort to unravel it. Tell me +again just what it was you saw and what it looked like."</p> +<p>"I won't let no man tell me what my duties are," snorted +Anderson, his stars trembling with injured pride. "Of course I'm +going to solve the mystery. We've got to see what's inside that +house. I thought it was tramps at first."</p> +<p>"Well, lead on, then; I'll follow!" said Bonner with a grin.</p> +<p>"I thought you was so anxious to go first!" exclaimed Anderson +with fine tact. "Go ahead yourself, ef you're so derned brave. I +dare you to."</p> +<p>Bonner laughed loud enough to awaken every ghost in Bramble +County and then strode rapidly toward the house. Anderson Crow +followed slowly and the rest straggled after, all alert for the +first sign of resistance.</p> +<p>"I wish I could find that derned lantern," said Anderson, +searching diligently in the deep grass as he walked along, in the +meantime permitting Bonner to reach the grim old doorway far in +advance of him.</p> +<p>"Come on!" called back the intrepid leader, seeing that all save +the marshal had halted. "You don't need the lantern. It's still +daylight, old chap. We'll find out what it was you all saw in the +window."</p> +<p>"That's the last of him," muttered Isaac Porter, as the broad +back disappeared through the low aperture that was called a +doorway. There were no window sashes or panes in the house, and the +door had long since rotted from the hinges.</p> +<p>"He'll never come out. Let's go home," added Ed Higgins +conclusively.</p> +<p>"Are you coming?" sang out Bonner from the interior of the +house. His voice sounded prophetically sepulchral.</p> +<p>"Consarn it, cain't you wait a minute?" replied Anderson Crow, +still bravely but consistently looking for the much-needed dark +lantern.</p> +<p>"It's all right in here. There hasn't been a human being in the +house for years. Come on in; it's fine!"</p> +<p>Anderson Crow finally ventured up to the doorway and peeped in. +Bonner was standing near the tumbledown fireplace, placidly +lighting a cigarette.</p> +<p>"This is a fine job you've put up on me," he growled. "I thought +there would be something doing. There isn't a soul here, and there +hasn't been, either."</p> +<p>"Thunderation, man, you cain't see ghosts when they don't want +you to!" said Anderson Crow. "It was a ghost, that's settled. I +knowed it all the time. Nothin' human ever looked like it, and +nothin' alive ever moaned like it did."</p> +<p>By this time the rest of the party had reached the cabin door. +The less timorous ventured inside, while others contented +themselves by looking through the small windows.</p> +<p>"Well, if you're sure you really saw something, we'd better make +a thorough search of the house and the grounds," said Bonner, and +forthwith began nosing about the two rooms.</p> +<p>The floors were shaky and the place had the odour of decayed +wood. Mould clung to the half-plastered walls, cobwebs matted the +ceilings, and rotted fungi covered the filth in the corners. +Altogether it was a most uninviting hole, in which no +self-respecting ghost would have made its home. When the time came +to climb up to the little garret Bonner's followers rebelled. He +was compelled to go alone, carrying the lantern, which one of the +small boys had found. This part of the house was even more +loathsome than below, and it would be impossible to describe its +condition. He saw no sign of life, and retired in utter disgust. +Then came the trip to the cellar. Again he had no followers, the +Tinkletown men emphatically refusing to go down where old Mrs. +Rank's body had been buried. Bonner laughed at them and went down +alone. It was nauseous with age and the smell of damp earth, but it +was cleaner there than above stairs. The cellar was smaller than +either of the living rooms, and was to be reached only through the +kitchen. There was no exit leading directly to the exterior of the +house, but there was one small window at the south end. Bonner +examined the room carefully and then rejoined the party. For some +reason the posse had retired to the open air as soon as he left +them to go below. No one knew exactly why, but when one started to +go forth the others followed with more or less alacrity.</p> +<p>"Did you see anything?" demanded the marshal.</p> +<p>"What did old Mrs. Rank look like when she was alive?" asked +Bonner with a beautifully mysterious air. No one answered; but +there was a sudden shifting of feet backward, while an expression +of alarmed inquiry came into every face. "Don't back into that open +well," warned the amused young man in the doorway. Anderson Crow +looked sharply behind, and flushed indignantly when he saw that the +well was at least fifty feet away. "I saw something down there that +looked like a woman's toe," went on Bonner very soberly.</p> +<p>"Good Lord! What did I tell you?" cried the marshal, turning to +his friends. To the best of their ability they could not remember +that Anderson had told them anything, but with one accord the whole +party nodded approval.</p> +<p>"I fancy it was the ghost of a toe, however, for when I tried to +pick it up it wriggled away, and I think it chuckled. It +disappear—what's the matter? Where are you going?"</p> +<p>It is only necessary to state that the marshal and his posse +retreated in good order to a distant spot where it was not quite so +dark, there to await the approach of Wicker Bonner, who leisurely +but laughingly inspected the exterior of the house and the grounds +adjoining. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, except as to +dilapidation, he rejoined the party with palpable displeasure in +his face.</p> +<p>"Well, I think I'll go back to the ice," he said; "that place is +as quiet as the grave. You are a fine lot of jokers, and I'll admit +that the laugh is on me."</p> +<p>But Bonner was mystified, uncertain. He had searched the house +thoroughly from top to bottom, and he had seen nothing unusual, but +these men and boys were so positive that he could not believe the +eyes of all had been deceived.</p> +<p>"This interests me," he said at last. "I'll tell you what we'll +do, Mr. Crow. You and I will come down here to-night, rig up a tent +of some sort and divide watch until morning. If there is anything +to be seen we'll find out what it is. I'll get a couple of straw +mattresses from our boathouse and—"</p> +<p>"I've got rheumatiz, Mr. Bonner, an' it would be the death o' me +to sleep in this swamp," objected Anderson hastily.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll come alone, then. I'm not afraid. I don't mean to +say I'll sleep in that old shack, but I'll bunk out here in the +woods. No human being could sleep in that place. Will any one +volunteer to keep me company?"</p> +<p>Silence.</p> +<p>"I don't blame you. It does take nerve, I'll confess. My only +stipulation is that you shall come down here from the village early +to-morrow morning. I may have something of importance to tell you, +Mr. Crow."</p> +<p>"We'll find his dead body," groaned old Mr. Borton.</p> +<p>"Say, mister," piped up a shrill voice, "I'll stay with you." It +was Bud who spoke, and all Tinkletown was afterward to resound with +stories of his bravery. The boy had been silently admiring the bold +sportsman from Boston town, and he was ready to cast his lot with +him in this adventure. He thrilled with pleasure when the big hero +slapped him on the back and called him the only man in the +crowd.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/180.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>At eight o'clock that night Bonner and the determined but +trembling Bud came up the bank from the river and pitched a tent +among the trees near the haunted house. From the sledge on the +river below they trundled up their bedding and their stores. Bud +had an old single-barrel shotgun, a knife and a pipe, which he was +just learning to smoke; Bonner brought a Navajo blanket, a revolver +and a heavy walking stick. He also had a large flask of whiskey and +the pipe that had graduated from Harvard with him.</p> +<p>At nine o'clock he put to bed in one of the chilly nests a very +sick boy, who hated to admit that the pipe was too strong for him, +but who felt very much relieved when he found himself wrapped +snugly in the blankets with his head tucked entirely out of sight. +Bud had spent the hour in regaling Bonner with the story of Rosalie +Gray's abduction and his own heroic conduct in connection with the +case. He confessed that he had knocked one of the villains down, +but they were too many for him. Bonner listened politely and +then—put the hero to bed.</p> +<p>Bonner dozed off at midnight. An hour or so later he suddenly +sat bolt upright, wide awake and alert. He had the vague impression +that he was deathly cold and that his hair was standing on end.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XVIII</h2> +<h3><i>The Men in the Sleigh</i></h3> +<p>Let us go back to the night on which Rosalie was seized and +carried away from Mrs. Luce's front gate, despite the valiant +resistance of her youthful defenders.</p> +<p>Rosalie had drooned Thackeray to the old lady until both of them +were dozing, and it was indeed a welcome relief that came with +Roscoe's resounding thumps on the front door. Mrs. Luce was too old +to be frightened out of a year's growth, but it is perfectly safe +to agree with her that the noise cost her at least three +months.</p> +<p>Desperately blue over the defection of Elsie Banks, Rosalie had +found little to make her evening cheerful indoors, but the fresh, +crisp air set her spirits bounding the instant she closed Mrs. +Luce's door from the outside. We have only to refer to Roscoe's +lively narrative for proof of what followed almost instantly. She +was seized, her head tightly wrapped in a thick cloak or blanket; +then she was thrown into a sleigh, and knew nothing more except a +smothering sensation and the odour of chloroform.</p> +<p>When she regained consciousness she was lying on the ground in +the open air, dark night about her. Three men were standing nearby, +but there was no vehicle in sight. She tried to rise, but on +account of her bonds was powerless to do so. Speech was prevented +by the cloth which closed her lips tightly. After a time she began +to grasp the meaning of the muttered words that passed between the +men.</p> +<p>"You got the rig in all right, Bill—you're sure that no +one heard or saw you?" were the first questions she could make out, +evidently arising from a previous report or explanation.</p> +<p>"Sure. Everybody in these parts goes to bed at sundown. They +ain't got nothing to do but sleep up 'ere."</p> +<p>"Nobody knows we had that feller's sleigh an' horses +out—nobody ever will know," said the big man, evidently the +leader. She noticed they called him Sam.</p> +<p>"Next thing is to git her across the river without leavin' any +tracks. We ain't on a travelled road now, pals; we got to be +careful. I'll carry her down to the bank; but be sure to step +squarely in my footprints—it'll look like they were made by +one man. See?"</p> +<p>"The river's froze over an' we can't be tracked on the ice. It's +too dark, too, for any one to see us. Go ahead, Sammy; it's +d—— cold here."</p> +<p>The big man lifted her from the ground as if she were a feather, +and she was conscious of being borne swiftly through a stretch of +sloping woodland down to the river bank, a journey of two or three +hundred yards, it seemed. Here the party paused for many minutes +before venturing out upon the wide expanse of frozen river, +evidently making sure that the way was clear. Rosalie, her senses +quite fully restored by this time, began to analyse the situation +with a clearness and calmness that afterward was the object of +considerable surprise to her. Instead of being hysterical with +fear, she was actually experiencing the thrill of a real emotion. +She had no doubt but that her abductors were persons hired by those +connected with her early history, and, strange as it may seem, she +could not believe that bodily harm was to be her fate after all +these years of secret attention on the part of those so deeply, +though remotely, interested.</p> +<p>Somehow there raced through her brain the exhilarating +conviction that at last the mystery of her origin was to be cleared +away, and with it all that had been as a closed book. No thought of +death entered her mind at that time. Afterward she was to feel that +death would be most welcome, no matter how it came.</p> +<p>Her captors made the trip across the river in dead silence. +There was no moon and the night was inky black. The exposed +portions of her face tingled with cold, but she was so heavily +wrapped in the blanket that her body did not feel the effects of +the zero weather.</p> +<p>At length the icy stretch was passed, and after resting a few +minutes, Sam proceeded to ascend the steep bank with her in his +arms. Why she was not permitted to walk she did not know then or +afterward. It is possible, even likely, that the men thought their +charge was unconscious. She did nothing to cause them to think +otherwise. Again they passed among trees, Sam's companions +following in his footprints as before. Another halt and a brief +command for Davy to go ahead and see that the coast was clear came +after a long and tortuous struggle through the underbrush. Twice +they seemed to have lost their bearings in the darkness, but +eventually they came into the open.</p> +<p>"Here we are!" grunted Sam as they hurried across the clearing. +"A hard night's work, pals, but I guess we're in Easy Street now. +Go ahead, Davy, an' open the trap!"</p> +<p>Davy swore a mighty but sibilant oath and urged his thick, ugly +figure ahead of the others.</p> +<p>A moment later the desperadoes and their victim passed through a +door and into a darkness even blacker than that outside. Davy was +pounding carefully upon the floor of the room in which they stood. +Suddenly a faint light spread throughout the room and a hoarse, +raucous voice whispered:</p> +<p>"Have you got her?"</p> +<p>"Get out of the way—we're near froze," responded Davy +gruffly.</p> +<p>"Get down there, Bill, and take her; I'm tired carryin' this +hundred and twenty pounder," growled Sam.</p> +<p>The next instant Rosalie was conscious of being lowered through +a trap door in the floor, and then of being borne rapidly through a +long, narrow passage, lighted fitfully by the rays of a lantern in +the hands of a fourth and as yet unseen member of the band.</p> +<p>"There!" said Bill, impolitely dropping his burden upon a pile +of straw in the corner of the rather extensive cave at the end of +the passage; "wonder if the little fool is dead. She ought to be +coming to by this time."</p> +<p>"She's got her eyes wide open," uttered the raucous voice on the +opposite side; and Rosalie turned her eyes in that direction. She +looked for a full minute as if spellbound with terror, her gaze +centred at the most repulsive human face she ever had +seen—the face of Davy's mother.</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/186.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>The woman was a giantess, a huge, hideous creature with the face +of a man, hairy and bloated. Her unkempt hair was grey almost to +whiteness, her teeth were snags, and her eyes were almost hidden +beneath the shaggy brow. There was a glare of brutal satisfaction +in them that appalled the girl.</p> +<p>For the first time since the adventure began her heart failed +her, and she shuddered perceptibly as her lids fell.</p> +<p>"What the h—— are you skeering her fer like that, +ma," growled Davy. "Don't look at her like that, or—"</p> +<p>"See here, my boy, don't talk like that to me if you don't want +me to kick your head off right where you stand. I'm your mother, +Davy, an'—"</p> +<p>"That'll do. This ain't no time to chew the rag," muttered Sam. +"We're done fer. Get us something to eat an' something to drink, +old woman; give the girl a nifter, too. She's fainted, I reckon. +Hurry up; I want to turn in."</p> +<p>"Better untie her hands—see if she's froze," added Bill +savagely.</p> +<p>Roughly the old woman slashed the bonds from the girl's hands +and feet and then looked askance at Sam, who stood warming his +hands over a kerosene stove not far away. He nodded his head, and +she instantly untied the cloth that covered Rosalie's mouth.</p> +<p>"It won't do no good to scream, girl. Nobody'll hear ye but +us—and we're your friends," snarled the old woman.</p> +<p>"Let her yell if she wants to, Maude. It may relieve her a bit," +said Sam, meaning to be kind. Instinctively Rosalie looked about +for the person addressed as Maude. There was but one woman in the +gang. Maude! That was the creature's name. Instead of crying or +shrieking, Rosalie laughed outright.</p> +<p>At the sound of the laugh the woman drew back hastily.</p> +<p>"By gor!" she gasped; "the—she's gone daffy!"</p> +<p>The men turned toward them with wonder in their faces. Bill was +the first to comprehend. He saw the girl's face grow sober with an +effort, and realised that she was checking her amusement because it +was sure to offend.</p> +<p>"Aw," he grinned, "I don't blame her fer laughin'! Say what ye +will, Maude, your name don't fit you."</p> +<p>"It's as good as any name—" began the old hag, glaring at +him; but Sam interposed with a command to her to get them some hot +coffee while he had a talk with the girl. "Set up!" he said +roughly, addressing Rosalie. "We ain't goin' to hurt you."</p> +<p>Rosalie struggled to a sitting posture, her limbs and back stiff +from the cold and inaction. "Don't ask questions, because they +won't be answered. I jest want to give you some advice as to how +you must act while you are our guest. You must be like one of the +family. Maybe we'll be here a day, maybe a week, but it won't be +any longer than that."</p> +<p>"Would you mind telling me where I am and what this all means? +Why have you committed this outrage? What have I done—" she +found voice to say. He held up his hand.</p> +<p>"You forget what I said about askin' questions. There ain't +nothin' to tell you, that's all. You're here and that's +enough."</p> +<p>"Well, who is it that has the power to answer questions, sir? I +have some right to ask them. You have—"</p> +<p>"That'll do, now!" he growled. "I'll put the gag back on you if +you keep it up. So's you won't worry, I want to say this to you: +Your friends don't know where you are, and they couldn't find you +if they tried. You are to stay right here in this cave until we get +orders to move you. When the time comes we'll take you to wherever +we're ordered, and then we're through with you. Somebody else will +have the say. You won't be hurt here unless you try to +escape—it won't do you any good to yell. It ain't a palace, +but it's better than the grave. So be wise. All we got to do is to +turn you over to the proper parties at the proper time. That's +all."</p> +<p>"Is the person you speak of my—my mother or my father?" +Rosalie asked with bated breath.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3><i>With the Kidnapers</i></h3> +<p>Sam stared at her, and there was something like real amazement +in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Yer mother or father?" he repeated interrogatively. +"Wha—what the devil can they have to do with this affair? I +guess they're askin' a lot of questions themselves about this +time."</p> +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Crow are not my parents," she said; and then +shrewdly added, "and you know it, sir."</p> +<p>"I've heard that sayin' 'bout a child never knowin' its own +father, but this business of both the father and mother is a new +one on me. I guess it's the chloroform. Give us that booze, Bill. +She's dippy yet."</p> +<p>He tried to induce her to swallow some of the whiskey, but +steadfastly she refused, until finally, with an evil snarl, Sam +commanded the giantess to hold her while he forced the burning +liquor down her throat. There was a brief struggle, but Rosalie was +no match for the huge woman, whose enormous arms encircled her; and +as the liquid trickled in upon her tongue she heard above the +brutal laughter of the would-be doctors the hoarse voice of Bill +crying:</p> +<p>"Don't hurt her, Sam! Let 'er alone!"</p> +<p>"Close yer face! Don't you monkey in this thing, Bill Briggs. +I'll—well, you know. Drink this, damn you!"</p> +<p>Sputtering and choking, her heart beating wildly with fear and +rage, Rosalie was thrown back upon the straw by the woman. Her +throat was burning from the effects of the whiskey and her eyes +were blinded by the tears of anger and helplessness.</p> +<p>"Don't come any of your highfalutin' airs with me, you little +cat," shrieked the old woman, rubbing a knee that Rosalie had +kicked in her struggles.</p> +<p>"Lay still there," added Sam. "We don't want to hurt you, but +you got to do as I tell you. Understand? Not a word, now! Gimme +that coffee-pot, Davy. Go an' see that everything's locked up an' +we'll turn in fer the night. Maude, you set up an' keep watch. If +she makes a crack, soak her one."</p> +<p>"You bet I will. She'll find she ain't attendin' no +Sunday-school picnic."</p> +<p>"No boozin'!" was Sam's order as he told out small portions of +whiskey. Then the gang ate ravenously of the bacon and beans and +drank cup after cup of coffee. Later the men threw themselves upon +the piles of straw and soon all were snoring. The big woman +refilled the lantern and hung it on a peg in the wall of the cave; +then she took up her post near the square door leading to the +underground passage, her throne an upturned whiskey barrel, her +back against the wall of the cave. She glared at Rosalie through +the semi-darkness, frequently addressing her with the vilest +invectives cautiously uttered—and all because her victim had +beautiful eyes and was unable to close them in sleep.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i192.jpg" id="i192.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/192.jpg"><img src="images/192.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Rosalie was no match for the huge woman"</b></div> +<p>Rosalie's heart sank as she surveyed the surroundings with her +mind once more clear and composed. After her recovery from the +shock of contact with the old woman and Sam she shrank into a state +of mental lassitude that foretold the despair which was to come +later on. She did not sleep that night. Her brain was full of +whirling thoughts of escape, speculations as to what was to become +of her, miserable fears that the end would not be what the first +impressions had made it, and, over all, a most intense horror of +the old woman, who dozed, but guarded her as no dragon ever watched +in the days of long ago.</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/194.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>The cave in which they were housed was thirty or forty feet from +side to side, almost circular in shape, a low roof slanting to the +rocky floor. Here and there were niches in the walls, and in the +side opposite to the entrance to the passageway there was a small, +black opening, leading without doubt to the outer world. The fact +that it was not used at any time during her stay in the cave led +her to believe it was not of practical use. Two or three coal-oil +stoves were used to heat the cave and for cooking purposes. There +were several lanterns, a number of implements (such as spades, +axes, crowbars, sledges, and so forth), stool-kegs, a rough table, +which was used for all purposes known to the dining-room, kitchen, +scullery and even bedchamber. Sam slept on the table. Horse +blankets were thrown about the floor in confusion. They served as +bedclothes when the gang slept. At other times they might as well +have been called doormats. One of the niches in the wall was used +as the resting place for such bones or remnants as might strike it +when hurled in that direction by the occupants. No one took the +trouble to carefully bestow anything in the garbage hole, and no +one pretended to clean up after the other. The place was foul +smelling, hot and almost suffocating with the fumes from the +stoves, for which there seemed no avenue of escape.</p> +<p>Hours afterward, although they seemed drawn out into years, the +men began to breathe naturally, and a weird silence reigned in the +cave. They were awake. The venerable Maude emerged from her doze, +looked apprehensively at Sam, prodded the corner to see that the +prize had not faded away, and then began ponderously to make +preparations for a meal, supposedly breakfast. Meagre ablutions, +such as they were, were performed in the "living room," a bucket of +water serving as a general wash-basin. No one had removed his +clothing during the night, not even his shoes. It seemed to her +that the gang was in an ever-ready condition to evacuate the place +at a moment's notice.</p> +<p>Rosalie would not eat, nor would she bathe her face in the water +that had been used by the quartette before her. Bill Briggs, with +some sense of delicacy in his nature, brought some fresh water from +the far end of the passageway. For this act he was reviled by his +companions.</p> +<p>"It's no easy job to get water here, Briggs," roared Sam. "We +got to be savin' with it."</p> +<p>"Well, don't let it hurt you," retorted Bill. "I'll carry it up +from the river to-night. You won't have to do it."</p> +<p>"She ain't any better'n I am," snorted Maude, "and nobody goes +out to bring me a private bath, I take notice. Get up here and eat +something, you rat! Do you want us to force it down you—"</p> +<p>"If she don't want to eat don't coax her," said Sam. "She'll +soon get over that. We was only hired to get her here and get her +away again, and not to make her eat or even wash. That's nothing to +us."</p> +<p>"Well, she's got to eat or she'll die, and you know, Sam Welch, +that ain't to be," retorted the old woman.</p> +<p>"She'll eat before she'll die, Maudie; don't worry."</p> +<p>"I'll never eat a mouthful!" cried Rosalie, a brave, stubborn +light in her eyes. She was standing in the far corner drying her +face with her handkerchief.</p> +<p>"Oho, you can talk again, eh? Hooray! Now we'll hear the story +of her life," laughed big Sam, his mouth full of bacon and bread. +Rosalie flushed and the tears welled to her eyes.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/197.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>All day long she suffered taunts and gibes from the gang. She +grew to fear Davy's ugly leers more than the brutal words of the +others. When he came near she shrank back against the wall; when he +spoke she cringed; when he attempted to touch her person she +screamed. It was this act that brought Sam's wrath upon Davy's +head. He won something like gratitude from the girl by profanely +commanding Davy to confine his love to looks and not to acts.</p> +<p>"She ain't to be harmed," was Sam's edict. "That goes, too."</p> +<p>"Aw, you go to—" began Davy belligerently.</p> +<p>"What's that?" snarled Sam, whirling upon him with a glare. Davy +slunk behind his mother and glared back. Bill moved over to Sam's +side. For a moment the air was heavy with signs of an affray. +Rosalie crouched in her corner, her hand over her ears, her eyes +closed. There was murder in Davy's face. "I'll break every bone in +your body!" added Sam; but Bill laconically stayed him with a +word.</p> +<p>"Rats!" It was brief, but it brought the irate Sam to his +senses. Trouble was averted for the time being.</p> +<p>"Davy ain't afraid of him," cried that worthy's mother +shrilly.</p> +<p>"You bet I ain't!" added Davy after a long string of oaths. Sam +grinned viciously.</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/198.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"There ain't nothin' to fight about, I guess," he said, although +he did not look it. "We'd be fools to scrap. Everything to lose and +nothin' to gain. All I got to say, Davy, is that you ain't to touch +that girl."</p> +<p>"Who's goin' to touch her?" roared Davy, bristling bravely. "An' +you ain't to touch her nuther," he added.</p> +<p>The day wore away, although it was always night in the +windowless cave, and again the trio of men slept, with Maude as +guard. Exhausted and faint, Rosalie fell into a sound sleep. The +next morning she ate sparingly of the bacon and bread and drank +some steaming coffee, much to the derisive delight of the hag.</p> +<p>"You had to come to it, eh?" she croaked. "Had to feed that +purty face, after all. I guess we're all alike. We're all flesh and +blood, my lady."</p> +<p>The old woman never openly offered personal violence to the +girl. She stood in some fear of the leader—not physical fear, +but the strange homage that a brute pays to its master. Secretly +she took savage delight in treading on the girl's toes or in +pinching her arms and legs, twisting her hair, spilling hot coffee +on her hands, cursing her softly and perpetrating all sorts of +little indignities that could not be resented, for the simple +reason that they could not be proved against her. Her word was as +good as Rosalie's.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/199.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Hourly the strain grew worse and worse. The girl became ill and +feverish with fear, loathing and uncertainty. Her ears rang with +the horrors of their lewdness, her eyes came to see but little, for +she kept them closed for the very pain of what they were likely to +witness. In her heart there grew a constant prayer for deliverance +from their clutches. She was much too strong-minded and healthy to +pray for death, but her mind fairly reeled with the thoughts of the +vengeance she would exact.</p> +<p>The third day found the gang morose and ugly. The confinement +was as irksome to them as it was to her. They fretted and worried, +swore and growled. At nightfall of each day Sam ventured forth +through the passage and out into the night. Each time he was gone +for two or three hours, and each succeeding return to the vile cave +threw the gang into deeper wrath. The word they were expecting was +not forthcoming, the command from the real master was not given. +They played cards all day, and at last began to drink more deeply +than was wise. Two desperate fights occurred between Davy and Sam +on the third day. Bill and the old woman pulled them apart after +both had been battered savagely.</p> +<p>"She's sick, Sam," growled Bill, standing over the cowering, +white-faced prisoner near the close of the fourth day. Sam had been +away nearly all of the previous night, returning gloomily without +news from headquarters. "She'll die in this d—— place +and so will we if we don't get out soon. Look at her! Why, she's as +white as a sheet. Let's give her some fresh air, Sammy. It's safe. +Take her up in the cabin for a while. To-night we can take her +outside the place. Good Lord, Sammy, I've got a bit of heart! I +can't see her die in this hole. Look at her! Can't you see she's +nearly done for?"</p> +<p>After considerable argument, pro and con, it was decided that it +would be safe and certainly wise to let the girl breathe the fresh +air once in a while. That morning Sam took her into the cabin +through the passage. The half hour in the cold, fresh air revived +her, strengthened her perceptibly. Her spirits took an upward +bound. She began to ask questions, and for some reason he began to +take notice of them. It may have been the irksomeness of the +situation, his own longing to be away, his anger toward the person +who had failed to keep the promise made before the abduction, that +led him to talk quite freely.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3><i>In the Cave</i></h3> +<p>"It's not my fault that we're still here," he growled in answer +to her pathetic appeal. "I've heard you prayin' for Daddy Crow to +come and take you away. Well, it's lucky for him that he don't know +where you are. We'd make mincemeat of that old jay in three +minutes. Don't do any more prayin'. Prayers are like +dreams—you have 'em at night and wonder why the next day. +Now, look 'ere, Miss Gray, we didn't do this rotten job for the +love of excitement. We're just as anxious to get out of it as you +are."</p> +<p>"I only ask why I am held here and what is to become of me?" +said Rosalie resignedly. She was standing across the table from +where he sat smoking his great, black pipe. The other members of +the gang were lounging about, surly and black-browed, chafing +inwardly over the delay in getting away from the cave.</p> +<p>"I don't know why you've been held here. I only know it's +d—— slow. I'd chuck the job, if there wasn't so much +dust in it for me."</p> +<p>"But what is to become of me? I cannot endure this much longer. +It is killing me. Look! I am black and blue from pinches. The old +woman never misses an opportunity to hurt me."</p> +<p>"She's jealous of you because you're purty, that's all. Women +are all alike, hang 'em! I wouldn't be in this sort of work if it +hadn't been for a jealous wife."</p> +<p>He puffed at his pipe moodily for a long time, evidently turning +some problem over and over in his mind. At last, heaving a deep +sigh, and prefacing his remarks with an oath, he let light in upon +the mystery. "I'll put you next to the job. Can't give any names; +it wouldn't be square. You see, it's this way: you ain't wanted in +this country. I don't know why, but you ain't."</p> +<p>"Not wanted in this country?" she cried blankly. "I don't stand +in any one's way. My life and my love are for the peaceful home +that you have taken me from. I don't ask for anything else. Won't +you tell your employer as much for me? If I am released, I shall +never interfere with the plans of—"</p> +<p>"'Tain't that, I reckon. You must be mighty important to +somebody, or all this trouble wouldn't be gone through with. The +funny part of it is that we ain't to hurt you. You ain't to be +killed, you know. That's the queer part of it, ain't it?"</p> +<p>"I'll admit it has an agreeable sound to me," said Rosalie, with +a shadow of a smile on her trembling lips. "It seems ghastly, +though."</p> +<p>"Well, anyhow, it's part of somebody's scheme to get you out of +this country altogether. You are to be taken away on a ship, across +the ocean, I think. Paris or London, mebby, and you are never to +come back to the United States. Never, that's what I'm told."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i204.jpg" id="i204.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/204.jpg"><img src="images/204.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"She shrank back from another blow which seemed +impending"</b></div> +<p>Rosalie was speechless, stunned. Her eyes grew wide with the +misery of doubt and horror, her lips moved as if forming the words +which would not come. Before she could bring a sound from the +contracted throat the raucous voice of old Maude broke in:</p> +<p>"What are you tellin' her, Sam Welch? Can't you keep your face +closed?" she called, advancing upon him with a menacing look.</p> +<p>"Aw, it's nothin' to you," he retorted, but an uncomfortable +expression suddenly crept into his face. A loud, angry discussion +ensued, the whole gang engaging. Three to one was the way it stood +against the leader, who was forced to admit, secretly if not +publicly, that he had no right to talk freely of the matter to the +girl. In vain she pleaded and promised. Her tears were of no avail, +once Sam had concluded to hold his tongue. Angry with himself for +having to submit to the demands of the others, furious because she +saw his surrender, Sam, without a word of warning, suddenly struck +her on the side of the head with the flat of his broad hand, +sending her reeling into the corner. Dazed, hurt and half stunned, +she dropped to her knees, unable to stand. With a piteous look in +her eyes she shrank back from another blow which seemed impending. +Bill Briggs grasped his leader's arm and drew him away, cursing and +snarling.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/207.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Late in the afternoon, Bill was permitted to conduct her into +the cabin above, for a few minutes in the air, and for a glimpse of +the failing sunlight. She had scarcely taken her stand before the +little window when she was hastily jerked away, but not before she +thought she had perceived a crowd of men, huddling among the trees +not far away. A scream for help started to her lips; but Bill's +heavy hand checked it effectually. His burly arm sent her scuttling +toward the trap-door; and a second later she was below, bruised +from the fall and half fainting with disappointment and +despair.</p> +<p>Brief as the glimpse had been, she was positive she recognised +two faces in the crowd of men—Anderson Crow's and Ed +Higgins's. It meant, if her eyes did not deceive her, that the +searchers were near at hand, and that dear, old Daddy Crow was +leading them. Her hopes flew upward and she could not subdue the +triumphant glance that swept the startled crowd when Bill +breathlessly broke the news.</p> +<p>Absolute quiet reigned in the cave after that. Maude cowed the +prisoner into silence with the threat to cut out her tongue if she +uttered a cry. Later, the tramp of feet could be heard on the floor +of the cabin. There was a sound of voices, loud peals of laughter, +and then the noise made by some one in the cellar that served as a +blind at one end of the cabin. After that, dead silence. At +nightfall, Sam stealthily ventured forth to reconnoitre. He came +back with the report that the woods and swamps were clear and that +the searchers, if such they were, had gone away.</p> +<p>"The house, since Davy's grandma's bones were stored away in +that cellar for several moons, has always been thought to be +haunted. The fools probably thought they saw a ghost—an' +they're runnin' yet."</p> +<p>Then for the first time Rosalie realised that she was in the +haunted cabin in the swamp, the most fearsome of all places in the +world to Tinkletown, large and small. Not more than three miles +from her own fireside! Not more than half an hour's walk from Daddy +Crow and others in the warmth of whose love she had lived so +long!</p> +<p>"It's gettin' too hot here for us," growled Sam at supper. +"We've just got to do something. I'm going out to-night to see if +there's any word from the—from the party. These guys ain't +all fools. Somebody is liable to nose out the trap-door before long +and there'll be hell to pay. They won't come back before to-morrow, +I reckon. By thunder, there ought to be word from the—the +boss by this time. Lay low, everybody; I'll be back before +daybreak. This time I'm a-goin' to find out something sure or know +the reason why. I'm gettin' tired of this business. Never know what +minute the jig's up, nor when the balloon busts."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/209.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Again he stole forth into the night, leaving his companions more +or less uneasy as to the result, after the startling events of the +afternoon. Hour after hour passed, and with every minute therein, +Rosalie's ears strained themselves to catch the first sound of +approaching rescuers. Her spirits fell, but her hopes were high. +She felt sure that the men outside had seen her face and that at +last they had discovered the place in which she was kept. It would +only be a question of time until they learned the baffling secret +of the trap-door. Her only fear lay in the possibility that she +might be removed by her captors before the rescuers could +accomplish her delivery. Her bright, feverish, eager eyes, gleaming +from the sunken white cheeks, appealed to Bill Briggs more than he +cared to admit. The ruffian, less hardened than his fellows, began +to feel sorry for her.</p> +<p>Eleven o'clock found the trio anxious and ugly in their +restlessness. There was no sleep for them. Davy visited the trap +over a hundred times that night. His mother, breaking over the +traces of restraint, hugged the jug of whiskey, taking swig after +swig as the vigil wore on. At last Davy, driven to it, insisted +upon having his share. Bill drank but little, and it was not long +before Rosalie observed the shifty, nervous look in his eyes. From +time to time he slyly appropriated certain articles, dropping them +into his coat pocket. His ear muffs, muffler, gloves, matches, +tobacco and many chunks of bread and bacon were stowed stealthily +in the pockets of his coat. At last it dawned upon her that Bill +was preparing to desert. Hope lay with him, then. If he could only +be induced to give her an equal chance to escape!</p> +<p>Mother and son became maudlin in their—not cups, but jug; +but Davy had the sense to imbibe more cautiously, a fact which +seemed to annoy the nervous Bill.</p> +<p>"I must have air—fresh air," suddenly moaned Rosalie from +her corner, the strain proving too great for her nerves. Bill +strode over and looked down upon the trembling form for a full +minute. "Take me outside for just a minute—just a minute, +please. I am dying in here."</p> +<p>"Lemme take her out," cackled old Maude. "I'll give her all the +air she wants. Want so—some air myself. Lemme give her air, +Bill. Have some air on me, pardner. Lemme—"</p> +<p>"Shut up, Maude!" growled Bill, glancing uneasily about the +cave. "I'll take her up in the cabin fer a couple of minutes. There +ain't no danger."</p> +<p>Davy protested, but Bill carried his point, simply because he +was sober and knew his power over the half-stupefied pair. Davy let +them out through the trap, promising to wait below until they were +ready to return.</p> +<p>"Are you going away?" whispered Rosalie, as they passed out into +the cold, black night.</p> +<p>"Sh! Don't talk, damn you!" he hissed.</p> +<p>"Let me go too. I know the way home and you need have no fear of +me. I like you, but I hate the others. Please, please! For God's +sake, let me go! They can't catch me if I have a little start."</p> +<p>"I'd like to, but I—I dassent. Sam would hunt me down and +kill me—he would sure. I am goin' myself—I can't stand +it no longer."</p> +<p>"Have pity! Don't leave me alone with them. Oh, God, if +you—"</p> +<p>Moaning piteously, she pleaded with him; but he was obdurate, +chiefly through fear of the consequences. In his heart he might +have been willing to give her the chance, but his head saw the +danger to itself and it was firm.</p> +<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do," he whispered in the end. "I'll +take you back there and then I'll go and tell your friends where +you are and how to help you. Honest! Honest, I will. I know it's as +broad as it is long, but I'd rather do it that way. They'll be here +in a couple of hours and you'll be free. Nobody will be the wiser. +Curse your whining! Shut up! Damn you, get back in there! Don't +give me away to Davy, and I'll swear to help you out of this."</p> +<p>A minute or two later, he dragged her back into the cabin, +moaning, pleading, and crying from the pain of a sudden blow. Ten +minutes afterward he went forth again, this time ostensibly to meet +Sam; but Rosalie knew that he was gone forever.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3><i>The Trap-Door</i></h3> +<p>A sickly new moon threw vague ghostly beams across the +willow-lined swamp, out beyond the little cabin that stood on its +border. Through the dense undergrowth and high among the skeleton +treetops ugly shadows played with each other, while a sepulchral +orchestra of wind and bough shrieked a dirge that flattened in +Bonner's ears; but it was not the weird music of the swamp that +sent the shudder of actual terror through the frame of the big +athlete.</p> +<p>A series of muffled, heartbreaking moans, like those of a woman +in dire pain, came to his ears. He felt the cold perspiration start +over his body. His nerves grew tense with trepidation, his eyes +wide with horror. Instinctively, his fingers clutched the revolver +at his side and his gaze went toward the black, square thing which +marked the presence of the haunted house. The orchestra of the +night seemed to bring its dirge to a close; a chill interlude of +silence ensued. The moans died away into choking sobs, and Bonner's +ears could hear nothing else. A sudden thought striking him, he +rolled out of his bed and made his way to Bud's pile of blankets. +But the solution was not there. The lad was sound asleep and no +sound issued from his lips. The moans came from another source, +human or otherwise, out there in the crinkling night.</p> +<p>Carefully making his way from the tent, his courage once more +restored but his flesh still quivering, Bonner looked intently for +manifestations in the black home of Johanna Rank. He half expected +to see a ghostly light flit past a window. It was intensely dark in +the thicket, but the shadowy marsh beyond silhouetted the house +into a black relief. He was on all fours behind a thick pile of +brush, nervously drawing his pipe from his pocket, conscious that +he needed it to steady his nerves, when a fresh sound, rising above +the faint sobs, reached his ears. Then the low voice of a man came +from some place in the darkness, and these words rang out +distinctly:</p> +<p>"Damn you!"</p> +<p>He drew back involuntarily, for the voice seemed to be at his +elbow. The sobs ceased suddenly, as if choked by a mighty hand.</p> +<p>The listener's inclination was to follow the example of Anderson +Crow and run madly off into the night. But beneath this natural +panic was the soul of chivalry. Something told him that a woman out +there in the solitude needed the arms of a man; and his blood began +to grow hot again. Presently the silence was broken by a sharp cry +of despair:</p> +<p>"Have pity! Oh, God—" moaned the voice that sent thrills +through his body—the voice of a woman, tender, refined, +crushed. His fingers gripped the revolver with fresh vigor, but +almost instantly the rustling of dead leaves reached his ears: the +man and his victim were making their way toward the house.</p> +<p>Bonner crouched among the bushes as if paralysed. He began to +comprehend the situation. In a vague sort of way he remembered +hearing of Tinkletown's sensation over at his uncle's house, where +he was living with a couple of servants for a month's shooting. The +atmosphere had been full of the sensational abduction story for +several days—the abduction of a beautiful young woman and the +helpless attitude of the relatives and friends. Like a whirlwind +the whole situation spread itself before him; it left him weak. He +had come upon the gang and their victim in this out-of-the-way +corner of the world, far from the city toward which they were +supposed to have fled. He had the solution in his hands and he was +filled with the fire of the ancients.</p> +<p>A light appeared in the low doorway and the squat figure of a +man held a lantern on high. An instant later, another man dragged +the helpless girl across the threshold and into the house. Even as +Bonner squared himself to rush down upon them the light disappeared +and darkness fell over the cabin. There was a sound of footsteps on +the floor, a creaking of hinges and the stealthy closing of a door. +Then there was absolute quiet.</p> +<p>Bonner was wise as well as brave. He saw that to rush down upon +the house now might prove his own as well as her undoing. In the +darkness, the bandits would have every advantage. For a moment he +glared at the black shadow ahead, his brain working like +lightning.</p> +<p>"That poor girl!" he muttered vaguely. "Damn beasts! But I'll +fix 'em, by heaven! It won't be long, my boys."</p> +<p>His pondering brought quick results. Crawling to Bud's cot, he +aroused him from a deep sleep. Inside of two minutes the lad was +streaking off through the woods toward town, with instructions to +bring Anderson Crow and a large force of men to the spot as quickly +as possible.</p> +<p>"I'll stand guard," said Wicker Bonner.</p> +<p>As the minutes went by Bonner's thoughts dwelt more and more +intently upon the poor, imprisoned girl in the cabin. His blood +charged his reason and he could scarce control the impulse to dash +in upon the wretches. Then he brought himself up with a jerk. Where +was he to find them? Had he not searched the house that morning and +was there a sign of life to be found? He was stunned by this +memory. For many minutes he stood with his perplexed eyes upon the +house before a solution came to him.</p> +<p>He now knew that there was a secret apartment in the old house +and a secret means of entrance and exit. With this explanation +firmly impressed upon his mind, Wicker Bonner decided to begin his +own campaign for the liberation of Rosalie Gray. It would be hours +before the sluggish Anderson Crow appeared; and Bonner was not the +sort to leave a woman in jeopardy if it was in his power to help +her. Besides, the country people had filled him with stories of +Miss Gray's beauty, and they found him at an impressionable and +heart-free age. The thrill of romance seized him and he was ready +to dare.</p> +<p>He crept up to the doorway and listened. Reason told him that +the coast was clear; the necessity for a sentinel did not exist, so +cleverly were the desperadoes under cover. After a few moments, he +crawled into the room, holding his breath, as he made his way +toward the cellar staircase. He had gone but a few feet when the +sound of voices came to him. Slinking into a corner, he awaited +developments. The sounds came from below, but not from the cellar +room, as he had located it. A moment later, a man crawled into the +room, coming through a hole in the floor, just as he had suspected. +A faint light from below revealed the sinister figure plainly, but +Bonner felt himself to be quite thoroughly hidden. The man in the +room spoke to some one below.</p> +<p>"I'll be back in half an hour, Davy. I'll wait fer Sam out there +on the Point. He ought to have some news from headquarters by this +time. I don't see why we have to hang around this place forever. +She ought to be half way to Paris by now."</p> +<p>"They don't want to take chances, Bill, till the excitement +blows over."</p> +<p>"Well, you an' your mother just keep your hands off of her while +I'm out, that's all," warned Bill Briggs.</p> +<p>The trap-door was closed, and Bonner heard the other occupant of +the room shuffle out into the night. He was not long in deciding +what to do. Here was the chance to dispose of one of the bandits, +and he was not slow to seize it. There was a meeting in the thicket +a few minutes later, and Bill was "out of the way" for the time +being. Wicker Bonner dropped him with a sledge-hammer blow, and +when he returned to the cabin Bill was lying bound and gagged in +the tent, a helpless captive.</p> +<p>His conqueror, immensely satisfied, supplied himself with the +surplus ends of "guy ropes" from the tent and calmly sat down to +await the approach of the one called Sam, he who had doubtless gone +to a rendezvous "for news." He could well afford to bide his time. +With two of the desperadoes disposed of in ambuscade, he could have +a fairly even chance with the man called Davy.</p> +<p>It seemed hours before he heard the stealthy approach of some +one moving through the bushes. He was stiff with cold, and chafing +at the interminable delay, but the approach of real danger +quickened his blood once more. There was another short, sharp, +silent struggle near the doorway, and once more Wicker Bonner stood +victorious over an unsuspecting and now unconscious bandit. Sam, a +big, powerful man, was soon bound and gagged and his bulk dragged +off to the tent among the bushes.</p> +<p>"Now for Davy," muttered Bonner, stretching his great arms in +the pure relish of power. "There will be something doing around +your heart, Miss Babe-in-the-Woods, in a very few minutes."</p> +<p>He chuckled as he crept into the cabin, first having listened +intently for sounds. For some minutes he lay quietly with his ear +to the floor. In that time he solved one of the problems +confronting him. The man Davy was a son of old Mrs. Rank's +murderer, and the "old woman" who kept watch with him was his +mother, wife of the historic David. It was she who had held the +lantern, no doubt, while David Wolfe chopped her own mother to +mincemeat. This accounted for the presence of the gang in the +haunted house and for their knowledge of the underground room.</p> +<p>Bonner's inspiration began to wear off. Pure luck had aided him +up to this stage, but the bearding of David in his lair was another +proposition altogether. His only hope was that he might find the +man asleep. He was not taking the old woman into consideration at +all. Had he but known it, she was the most dangerous of all.</p> +<p>His chance, he thought, lay in strategy. It was impossible to +open the trap-door from above, he had found by investigation. There +was but one way to get to Miss Gray, and that was by means of a +daring ruse. Trusting to luck, he tapped gently on the floor at the +spot where memory told him the trap-door was situated. His heart +was thumping violently.</p> +<p>There was a movement below him, and then the sound of some one +handling the bolts in the door. Bonner drew back, hoping against +hope that a light would not be shown. In one hand he held his +revolver ready for use; in the other his heavy walking stick. His +plans were fully developed. After a moment the trap was lifted +partially and a draft of warm air came out upon him.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3><i>Jack, the Giant Killer</i></h3> +<p>"That you, Sam?" half whispered a man's voice. There was no +light.</p> +<p>"Sh!" hissed Bonner, muffling his voice. "Is everybody in?"</p> +<p>"Bill's waitin' fer you outside. Ma an' me are here. Come on +down. What's up?"</p> +<p>"How's the girl?"</p> +<p>"Bellerin' like a baby. Ma's with her in the cave. Hurry up! +This thing's heavy."</p> +<p>For reply Bonner seized the edge of the door with his left hand, +first pushing his revolver in his trousers' pocket. Then he +silently swung the heavy cane through the air and downward, a very +faint light from below revealing the shock head of Davy in the +aperture. It was a mighty blow and true. Davy's body fell away from +the trap, and a second later Bonner's dropped through the hole. He +left the trap wide open in case retreat were necessary. Pausing +long enough to assure himself that the man was unconscious and +bleeding profusely, and to snatch the big revolver from Davy's +person, Bonner turned his attention to the surroundings.</p> +<p>Perhaps a hundred feet away, at the end of a long, low passage, +he saw the glimmer of a light. Without a second's hesitation he +started toward it, feeling that the worst of the adventure was +past. A shadow coming between him and the light, he paused in his +approach. This shadow resolved itself into the form of a woman, a +gigantic creature, who peered intently up the passage.</p> +<p>"What's the matter, Davy?" she called in raucous tones. "You +damn fool, can't you do anything without breaking your neck? I +reckon you fell down the steps? That you, Sam?"</p> +<p>Receiving no answer, the woman clutched the lantern and advanced +boldly upon Bonner, who stood far down the passage, amazed and +irresolute. She looked more formidable to him than any of the men, +so he prepared for a struggle.</p> +<p>"Halt!" he cried, when she was within ten feet of him. "Don't +resist; you are surrounded!"</p> +<p>The woman stopped like one shot, glared ahead as if she saw him +for the first time, and then uttered a frightful shriek of rage. +Dashing the lantern to the ground, she raised her arm and fired a +revolver point blank at Bonner, despite the fact that his pistol +was covering her. He heard the bullet crash into the rotten timbers +near his ear. Contrary to her design, the lantern was not +extinguished. Instead, it lay sputtering but effective upon the +floor.</p> +<p>Before Bonner could make up his mind to shoot at the woman she +was upon him, firing again as she came. He did not have time to +retaliate. The huge frame crushed down upon him and his pistol flew +from his hand. As luck would have it, his free hand clutched her +revolver, and she was prevented from blowing his brains out with +the succeeding shots, all of which went wild.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/222.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Then came a desperate struggle. Bonner, a trained athlete, +realised that she was even stronger than he, more desperate in her +frenzy, and with murder in her heart. As they lunged to and fro, +her curses and shrieks in his ear, he began to feel the despair of +defeat. She was beating him down with one mighty arm, crushing +blows, every one of them. Then came the sound which turned the tide +of battle, for it filled him with a frenzy equal to her own. The +scream of a woman came down through the passage, piteous, +terror-stricken.</p> +<p>He knew the fate of that poor girl if his adversary overcame +him. The thought sent his blood hot and cold at once. Infuriatedly, +he exerted his fine strength, and the tide turned. Panting and +snarling, the big woman was battered down. He flung her heavily to +the ground and then leaped back to pick up his revolver, expecting +a renewal of the attack. For the first time he was conscious of +intense pain in his left leg. The woman made a violent effort to +rise, and then fell back, groaning and cursing.</p> +<p>"You've done it! You've got me!" she yelled. "My leg's broke!" +Then she shrieked for Davy and Bill and Sam, raining curses upon +the law and upon the traitor who had been their undoing.</p> +<p>Bonner, his own leg wobbling and covered with blood, tried to +quiet her, but without success. He saw that she was utterly +helpless, her leg twisted under her heavy body. Her screams of pain +as he turned her over proved conclusively that she was not +shamming. Her hip was dislocated. The young man had sense enough +left to return to Davy before venturing into the cave where Miss +Gray was doubtless in a dead faint. The man was breathing, but +still unconscious from the blow on the head. Bonner quickly tied +his hands and feet, guarding against emergencies in case of his own +incapacitation as the result of the bullet wound in his leg; then +he hobbled off with the lantern past the groaning Amazon in quest +of Rosalie Gray. It did not occur to him until afterward that +single handed he had overcome a most desperate band of criminals, +so simply had it all worked out up to the time of the encounter +with the woman.</p> +<p>A few yards beyond where the old woman lay moaning he came upon +the cave in which the bandits made their home. Holding the lantern +above his head, Bonner peered eagerly into the cavern. In the +farthest corner crouched a girl, her terror-struck eyes fastened +upon the stranger.</p> +<p>"How do you do, Miss Gray," came the cheery greeting from his +lips. She gasped, swept her hand over her eyes, and tried piteously +to speak. The words would not come. "The long-prayed-for rescue has +come. You are free—that is, as soon as we find our way out of +this place. Let me introduce myself as Jack, the Giant +Killer—hello! Don't do that! Oh, the devil!" She had toppled +over in a dead faint.</p> +<p>How Wicker Bonner, with his wounded leg, weak from loss of +blood, and faint from the reaction, carried her from the cave +through the passage and the trap-door and into the tent can only be +imagined, not described. He only knew that it was necessary to +remove her from the place, and that his strength would soon be +gone. The sun was tinting the east before she opened her eyes and +shuddered. In the meantime he had stanched the flow of blood in the +fleshy part of his leg, binding the limb tightly with a piece of +rope. It was an ugly, glancing cut made by a bullet of large +calibre, and it was sure to put him on crutches for some time to +come. Even now he was scarcely able to move the member. For an hour +he had been venting his wrath upon the sluggish Anderson Crow, who +should have been on the scene long before this. Two of his +captives, now fully conscious, were glaring at their companions in +the tent with hate in their eyes.</p> +<p>Rosalie Gray, wan, dishevelled, but more beautiful than the +reports had foretold, could not at first believe herself to be free +from the clutches of the bandits. It took him many +minutes—many painful minutes—to convince her that it +was not a dream, and that in truth he was Wicker Bonner, gentleman. +Sitting with his back against a tent pole, facing the cabin through +the flap, with a revolver in his trembling hand, he told her of the +night's adventures, and was repaid tenfold by the gratitude which +shone from her eyes and trembled in her voice. In return she told +him of her capture, of the awful experiences in the cave, and of +the threats which had driven her almost to the end of +endurance.</p> +<p>"Oh, oh, I could love you forever for this!" she cried in the +fulness of her joy. A rapturous smile flew to Bonner's eyes.</p> +<p>"Forever begins with this instant, Miss Gray," he said; and +without any apparent reason the two shook hands. Afterward they +were to think of this trivial act and vow that it was truly the +beginning. They were young, heart-free, and full of the romance of +life.</p> +<p>"And those awful men are really captured—and the woman?" +she cried, after another exciting recital from him. Sam and Bill +fairly snarled. "Suppose they should get loose?" Her eyes grew wide +with the thought of it.</p> +<p>"They can't," he said laconically. "I wish the marshal and his +bicycle army would hurry along. That woman and Davy need attention. +I'd hate like the mischief to have either of them die. One doesn't +want to kill people, you know, Miss Gray."</p> +<p>"But they were killing me by inches," she protested.</p> +<p>"Ouch!" he groaned, his leg giving him a mighty twinge.</p> +<p>"What is it?" she cried in alarm. "Why should we wait for those +men? Come, Mr. Bonner, take me to the village—please do. I am +crazy, absolutely crazy, to see Daddy Crow and mother. I can walk +there—how far is it?—please come." She was running on +eagerly in this strain until she saw the look of pain in his +face—the look he tried so hard to conceal. She was standing +straight and strong and eager before him, and he was very pale +under the tan.</p> +<p>"I can't, Miss Gray. I'm sorry, you know. See! Where there's +smoke there's fire—I mean, where there's blood there's a +wound. I'm done for, in other words."</p> +<p>"Done for? Oh, you're not—not going to die! Are you hurt? +Why didn't you tell me?" Whereupon she dropped to her knees at his +side, her dark eyes searching his intently, despair in them until +the winning smile struggled back into his. The captives chuckled +audibly. "What can I—what shall I do? Oh, why don't those men +come! It must be noon or—"</p> +<p>"It's barely six A.M., Miss Gray. Don't worry. I'm all right. A +cut in my leg; the old woman plugged me. I can't walk, you +know—but—"</p> +<p>"And you carried me out here and did all that and never said a +word about—oh, how good and brave and noble you are!"</p> +<p>When Anderson Crow and half of Tinkletown, routed out <i>en +masse</i> by Bud, appeared on the scene an hour or two later, they +found Wicker Bonner stretched out on a mattress, his head in +Rosalie's lap. The young woman held his revolver in her hand, and +there was a look in her face which said that she would shoot any +one who came to molest her charge. Two helpless desperadoes lay +cursing in the corner of the tent.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow, after an hour of deliberation and explanation, +fell upon the bound and helpless bandits and bravely carted the +whole lot to the town "calaboose." Wicker Bonner and his nurse were +taken into town, and the news of the rescue went flying over the +county, and eventually to the four corners of the land, for +Congressman Bonner's nephew was a person of prominence.</p> +<p>Bonner, as he passed up the main street in Peabody's sleigh on +the way to Anderson Crow's home, was the centre of attraction. He +was the hero of the hour, for was not Rosalie Gray herself, pale +and ill with torture, his most devoted slave? What else could +Tinkletown do but pay homage when it saw Bonner's head against her +shoulder and Anderson Crow shouting approval from the bob-sled that +carried the kidnapers. The four bandits, two of them much the worse +for the night's contact with Wicker Bonner, were bundled into the +lock-up, a sadly morose gang of ghosts.</p> +<p>"I owe you a thousand dollars," said Anderson to Bonner as they +drew up in front of the marshal's home. All Tinkletown was there to +see how Mrs. Crow and the family would act when Rosalie was +restored to them. The yard was full of gaping villagers, and there +was a diffident cheer when Mrs. Crow rushed forth and fairly +dragged Rosalie from the sleigh. "Blootch" Peabody gallantly +interposed and undertook to hand the girl forth with the grace of a +Chesterfield. But Mrs. Crow had her way.</p> +<p>"I'll take it out in board and lodging," grinned Wicker Bonner +to Anderson as two strong men lifted him from the sleigh.</p> +<p>"Where's Bud?" demanded Anderson after the others had entered +the house.</p> +<p>"He stayed down to the 'calaboose' to guard the prisoners," said +"Blootch." "Nobody could find the key to the door and nobody else +would stay. They ain't locked in, but Bud's got two revolvers, and +he says they can only escape over his dead body."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXIII</h2> +<h3><i>Tinkletown's Convulsion</i></h3> +<p>Anderson Crow was himself once more. He was twenty years younger +than when he went to bed the night before. His joy and pride had +reached the bursting point—dignity alone prevented the +catastrophe.</p> +<p>"What do you expect to do with the gang, Mr. Crow?" asked +Bonner, reclining with amiable ease in the marshal's Morris chair. +He was feeling very comfortable, despite "Doc" Smith's stitches; +and he could not help acknowledging, with more or less of a glow in +his heart, that it was nice to play hero to such a heroine.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll protect 'em, of course. Nobody c'n lynch 'em while +I'm marshal of this town," Anderson said, forgetful of the fact +that he had not been near the jail, where Master Bud still had full +charge of affairs, keyless but determined. "I'll have to turn them +over to the county sheriff to-day er to-morrow, I reckon. This +derned old calaboose of ourn ain't any too safe. That's a mighty +desperit gang we've captured. I cain't remember havin' took sech a +mob before."</p> +<p>"Has it occurred to you, Mr. Crow, that we have captured only +the hirelings? Their employer, whoever he or she may be, is at +large and probably laughing at us. Isn't there some way in which we +can follow the case up and land the leader?"</p> +<p>"'y Gosh, you're right," said Anderson. "I thought of that this +mornin', but it clean skipped my mind since then. There's where the +mistake was made, Mr. Bonner. It's probably too late now. You'd +oughter thought about the leader. Seems to me—"</p> +<p>"Why, Daddy Crow," cried Rosalie, a warm flush in her cheeks +once more, "hasn't Mr. Bonner done his part? Hasn't he taken them +single-handed and hasn't he saved me from worse than death?"</p> +<p>"I ain't castin' any insinyations at him, Rosalie," retorted +Anderson, very sternly for him. "How <i>can</i> you talk like +that?"</p> +<p>"I'm not offended, Miss Gray," laughed Bonner. "We all make +mistakes. It has just occurred to me, however, that Mr. Crow may +still be able to find out who the leader is. The prisoners can be +pumped, I dare say."</p> +<p>"You're right ag'in, Mr. Bonner. It's funny how you c'n read my +thoughts. I was jest goin' down to the jail to put 'em through the +sweat cell."</p> +<p>"Sweat cell? You mean sweat box, Mr. Crow," said Bonner, +laughing in spite of himself.</p> +<p>"No, sir; it's a cell. We couldn't find a box big enough. I use +the cell reserved fer women prisoners. Mebby some day the town +board will put in a reg'lar box, but, so far, the cell has done all +right. I'll be back 'bout supper-time, Eva. You take keer o' +Rosalie. Make her sleep a while an' I guess you'd better dose her +up a bit with quinine an'—"</p> +<p>"I guess I know what to give her, Anderson Crow," resented his +wife. "Go 'long with you. You'd oughter been lookin' after them +kidnapers three hours ago. I bet Bud's purty nigh wore out guardin' +them. He's been there ever sence nine o'clock, an' it's half-past +two now."</p> +<p>"Roscoe's helpin' him," muttered Anderson, abashed.</p> +<p>At that instant there came a rush of footsteps across the front +porch and in burst Ed Higgins and "Blootch" Peabody, fairly gasping +with excitement.</p> +<p>"Hurry up, Anderson—down to the jail," sputtered the +former; and then he was gone like the wind. "Blootch," determined +to miss nothing, whirled to follow, or pass him if possible. He had +time to shout over his shoulder as he went forth without closing +the door:</p> +<p>"The old woman has lynched herself!"</p> +<p>It would now be superfluous to remark, after all the convulsions +Tinkletown had experienced inside of twenty-four hours, that the +populace went completely to pieces in face of this last trying +experiment of Fate. With one accord the village toppled over as if +struck by a broadside and lay, figuratively speaking, writhing in +its own gore. Stupefaction assailed the town. Then one by one the +minds of the people scrambled up from the ashes, slowly but surely, +only to wonder where lightning would strike next. Not since the +days of the American Revolution had the town experienced such an +incessant rush of incident. The Judgment Day itself, with Gabriel's +clarion blasts, could not be expected to surpass this productive +hour in thrills.</p> +<p>It was true that old Maude had committed suicide in the +calaboose. She had been placed on a cot in the office of the prison +and Dr. Smith had been sent for, immediately after her arrival; but +he was making a call in the country. Bud Long, supported by half a +dozen boys armed with Revolutionary muskets, which would not go off +unless carried, stood in front of the little jail with its wooden +walls and iron bars, guarding the prisoners zealously. The +calaboose was built to hold tramps and drunken men, but not for the +purpose of housing desperadoes. Even as the heroic Bud watched with +persevering faithfulness, his charges were planning to knock their +prison to smithereens and at the proper moment escape to the woods +and hills. They knew the grated door was unlocked, but they +imagined the place to be completely surrounded by vengeful +villagers, who would cut them down like rats if they ventured +forth. Had they but known that Bud was alone, it is quite likely +they would have sallied forth and relieved him of his guns, spanked +him soundly and then ambled off unmolested to the country.</p> +<p>All the morning old Maude had been groaning and swearing in the +office, where she lay unattended. Bud was telling his friends how +he had knocked her down twice in the cave, after she had shot six +times and slashed at him with her dagger, when a sudden cessation +of groans from the interior attracted the attention of all. "Doc" +Smith arrived at that juncture and found the boys listening +intently for a resumption of the picturesque profanity. It was some +time before the crowd became large enough to inspire a visit to the +interior of the calaboose. As became his dignity, Bud led the +way.</p> +<p>The old woman, unable to endure the pain any longer, and knowing +full well that her days were bound to end in prison, had managed, +in some way, to hang herself from a window bar beside her bed, +using a twisted bed sheet. She was quite dead when "Doc" made the +examination. A committee of the whole started at once to notify +Anderson Crow. For a minute it looked as though the jail would be +left entirely unguarded, but Bud loyally returned to his post, +reinforced by Roscoe and the doctor.</p> +<p>Upon Mr. Crow's arrival at the jail, affairs assumed some aspect +of order. He first locked the grate doors, thereby keeping the +fiery David from coming out to see his mother before they cut her +down. A messenger was sent for the coroner at Boggs City, and then +the big body was released from its last hanging place.</p> +<p>"Doggone, but this is a busy day fer me!" said Anderson. "I +won't have time to pump them fellers till this evenin'. But I guess +they'll keep. 'What's that, Blootch?"</p> +<p>"I was just goin' to ask Bud if they're still in there," said +Blootch.</p> +<p>"Are they, Bud?" asked Anderson in quick alarm.</p> +<p>"Sure," replied Bud with a mighty swelling of the chest. Even +Blootch envied him.</p> +<p>"She's been dead jest an hour an' seven minutes," observed +Anderson, gingerly touching the dead woman's wrist. "Doggone, I'm +glad o' one thing!"</p> +<p>"What's that, Anderson?"</p> +<p>"We won't have to set her hip. Saved expense."</p> +<p>"But we'll have to bury her, like as not," said Isaac +Porter.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Anderson reflectively. "She'll have to be buried. +But—but—" and here his face lightened up in +relief—"not fer a day er two; so what's the use +worryin'."</p> +<p>When the coroner arrived, soon after six o'clock, a jury was +empanelled and witnesses sworn. In ten minutes a verdict of suicide +was returned and the coroner was on his way back to Boggs City. He +did not even know that a hip had been dislocated. Anderson insisted +upon a post-mortem examination, but was laughed out of countenance +by the officious M.D.</p> +<p>"I voted fer that fool last November," said Anderson wrathfully, +as the coroner drove off, "but you c'n kick the daylights out of me +if I ever do it ag'in. Look out there, Bud! What in thunder are you +doin' with them pistols? Doggone, ain't you got no sense? Pointin' +'em around that way. Why, you're liable to shoot +somebody—"</p> +<p>"Aw, them ain't pistols," scoffed Bud, his mouth full of +something. "They're bologny sausages. I ain't had nothin' to eat +sence last night and I'm hungry."</p> +<p>"Well, it's dark out here," explained Anderson, suddenly +shuffling into the jail. "I guess I'll put them fellers through the +sweat box."</p> +<p>"The <i>what?</i>" demanded George Ray.</p> +<p>"The sweat-box—b-o-x, box. Cain't you hear?"</p> +<p>"I thought you used a cell."</p> +<p>"Thunderation, no! Nobody but country jakes call it a cell," +said Anderson in fine scorn.</p> +<p>The three prisoners scowled at him so fiercely and snarled so +vindictively when they asked him if they were to be starved to +death, that poor Anderson hurried home and commanded his wife to +pack "a baskit of bread and butter an' things fer the prisoners." +It was nine o'clock before he could make up his mind to venture +back to the calaboose with his basket. He spent the intervening +hours in telling Rosalie and Bonner about the shocking incident at +the jail and in absorbing advice from the clear-headed young man +from Boston.</p> +<p>"I'd like to go with you to see those fellows, Mr. Crow," was +Bonner's rueful lament. "But the doctor says I must be quiet until +this confounded thing heals a bit. Together, I think we could bluff +the whole story out of those scoundrels."</p> +<p>"Oh, never you fear," said the marshal; "I'll learn all there is +to be learnt. You jest ask Alf Reesling what kind of a pumper I +am."</p> +<p>"Who is Alf Reesling?"</p> +<p>"Ain't you heerd of him in Boston? Why, every temperance +lecturer that comes here says he's the biggest drunkard in the +world. I supposed his reputation had got to Boston by this time. +He's been sober only once in twenty-five years."</p> +<p>"Is it possible?"</p> +<p>"That was when his wife died. He said he felt so good it wasn't +necessary to get drunk. Well, I'll tell you all about it when I +come back. Don't worry no more, Rosalie. I'll find out who's back +of this business an' then we'll know all about you. It's a long +lane that has no turn."</p> +<p>"Them prisoners must be mighty near starved to death by this +time, Anderson," warned Mrs. Crow.</p> +<p>"Doggone, that's so!" he cried, and hustled out into the +night.</p> +<p>The calaboose was almost totally dark—quite so, had it not +been for the single lamp that burned in the office where the body +of the old woman was lying. Two or three timid citizens stood afar +off, in front of Thompson's feed yard, looking with awe upon the +dungeon keep. Anderson's footsteps grew slower and more halting as +they approached the entrance to the forbidding square of black. The +snow creaked resoundingly under his heels and the chill wind nipped +his muffless ears with a spitefulness that annoyed. In fact, he +became so incensed, that he set his basket down and slapped his +ears vigorously for some minutes before resuming his slow progress. +He hated the thought of going in where the dead woman lay.</p> +<p>Suddenly he made up his mind that a confession from the men +would be worthless unless he had ear witnesses to substantiate it +in court. Without further deliberation, he retraced his steps +hurriedly to Lamson's store, where, after half an hour's +conversation on the topics of the day, he deputised the entire +crowd to accompany him to the jail.</p> +<p>"Where's Bud?" he demanded sharply.</p> +<p>"Home in bed, poor child," said old Mr. Borton.</p> +<p>"Well, doggone his ornery hide, why ain't he here to—" +began Anderson, but checked himself in time to prevent the crowd +from seeing that he expected Bud to act as leader in the +expedition. "I wanted him to jot down notes," he substituted. +Editor Squires volunteered to act as secretary, prompter, +interpreter, and everything else that his scoffing tongue could +utter.</p> +<p>"Well, go ahead, then," said Anderson, pushing him forward. +Harry led the party down the dark street with more rapidity than +seemed necessary; few in the crowd could keep pace with him. A +majority fell hopelessly behind, in fact.</p> +<p>Straight into the office walked Harry, closely followed by +Blootch and the marshal. Maude, looking like a monument of sheets, +still occupied the centre of the floor. Without a word, the party +filed past the gruesome, silent thing and into the jail corridor. +It was as dark as Erebus in the barred section of the prison; a +cold draft of air flew into the faces of the visitors.</p> +<p>"Come here, you fellers!" called Anderson bravely into the +darkness; but there was no response from the prisoners.</p> +<p>For the very good reason that some hours earlier they had calmly +removed a window from its moorings and by this time were much too +far away to answer questions.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3><i>The Flight of the Kidnapers</i></h3> +<p>Searching parties were organised and sent out to scour the +country, late as it was. Swift riders gave the alarm along every +roadway, and the station agent telegraphed the news into every +section of the land. At Boggs City, the sheriff, berating Anderson +Crow for a fool and Tinkletown for an open-air lunatic asylum, sent +his deputies down to assist in the pursuit. The marshal himself +undertook to lead each separate and distinct posse. He was so +overwhelmed by the magnitude of his misfortune that it is no wonder +his brain whirled widely enough to encompass the whole +enterprise.</p> +<p>Be it said to the credit of Tinkletown, her citizens made every +reasonable effort to recapture the men. The few hundred able-bodied +men of the town rallied to the support of their marshal and the +law, and there was not one who refused to turn out in the cold +night air for a sweeping search of the woods and fields.</p> +<p>Rosalie, who had been awakened early in the evening by Mr. +Crow's noisy preparations for the pursuit, came downstairs, and +instantly lost all desire to sleep. Bonner was lying on a couch in +the "sitting-room," which now served as a temporary bedchamber.</p> +<p>"If you'll just hand me those revolvers, Mr. Crow," said he, +indicating the two big automatics he had taken from Davy and Bill, +"I'll stand guard over the house as best I can while you're +away."</p> +<p>"Stand guard? What fer? Nobody's goin' to steal the house."</p> +<p>"We should not forget that these same rascals may take it into +their heads to double on their tracks and try to carry Miss Gray +away again. With her in their possession they'll receive their pay; +without her their work will have been for nothing. It is a +desperate crowd, and they may think the plan at least worth +trying."</p> +<p>Rosalie's grateful, beaming glance sent a quiver that was not of +pain through Bonner's frame.</p> +<p>"Don't worry about that," said the marshal. "We'll have 'em shot +to pieces inside of an hour an' a half."</p> +<p>"Anderson, I want you to be very careful with that horse +pistol," said his wife nervously. "It ain't been shot off sence the +war, an' like as not it'll kill you from behind."</p> +<p>"Gosh blast it, Eva!" roared Anderson, "don't you suppose I know +which end to shoot with?" And away he rushed in great dudgeon.</p> +<p>Edna Crow sat at the front window, keeping watch for hours. She +reported to the other members of the household as each scurrying +band of searchers passed the place. Bonner commanded Rosalie to +keep away from the windows, fearing a shot from the outside. From +time to time Roscoe replenished the big blaze in the fireplace. It +was cosey in the old-fashioned sitting-room, even though the strain +upon its occupants was trying in the extreme.</p> +<p>Great excitement came to them when the figure of a man was seen +to drop to the walk near the front gate. At first it was feared +that one of the bandits, injured by pursuers, had fallen to die, +but the mournful calls for help that soon came from the sidewalk +were more or less reassuring. The prostrate figure had a queer +habit from time to time of raising itself high enough to peer +between the pickets of the fence, and each succeeding shout seemed +more vigorous than the others. Finally they became impatient, and +then full of wrath. It was evident that the stranger resented the +inhospitality of the house.</p> +<p>"Who are you?" called Edna, opening the window ever so slightly. +Whereupon the man at the gate sank to the ground and groaned with +splendid misery.</p> +<p>"It's me," he replied.</p> +<p>"Who's me?"</p> +<p>"'Rast—'Rast Little. I think I'm dyin'."</p> +<p>There was a hurried consultation indoors, and then Roscoe +bravely ventured out to the sidewalk.</p> +<p>"Are you shot, 'Rast?" he asked in trembling tones.</p> +<p>"No; I'm just wounded. Is Rosalie in there?"</p> +<p>"Yep. She's—"</p> +<p>"I guess I'll go in, then. Dern it! It's a long walk from our +house over here. I guess I'll stay all night. If I don't get better +to-morrow I'll have to stay longer. I ought to be nursed, too."</p> +<p>"Rosalie's playin' nurse fer Mr. Bonner," volunteered Roscoe, +still blocking the gate through which 'Rast was trying to wedge +himself.</p> +<p>"Mr. who?"</p> +<p>"Bonner."</p> +<p>"Well," said 'Rast after a moment's consideration, "he ought to +be moved to a hospital. Lemme lean on you, Roscoe. I can't hardly +walk, my arm hurts so."</p> +<p>Mr. Little, with his bandages and his hobble, had joined in the +expedition, and was not to be deterred until faintness overcame him +and he dropped by the wayside. He was taken in and given a warm +chair before the fire. One long look at Bonner and the newcomer +lapsed into a stubborn pout. He groaned occasionally and made much +ado over his condition, but sourly resented any approach at +sympathy. Finally he fell asleep in the chair, his last speech +being to the effect that he was going home early in the morning if +he had to drag himself every foot of the way. Plainly, 'Rast had +forgotten Miss Banks in the sudden revival of affection for Rosalie +Gray. The course of true love did not run smoothly in +Tinkletown.</p> +<p>The searchers straggled in empty handed. Early morning found +most of them asleep at their homes, tucked away by thankful wives, +and with the promises of late breakfasts. The next day business was +slow in asserting its claim upon public attention. Masculine +Tinkletown dozed while femininity chattered to its heart's content. +There was much to talk about and more to anticipate. The officials +in all counties contiguous had out their dragnets, and word was +expected at any time that the fugitives had fallen into their +hands.</p> +<p>But not that day, nor the next, nor any day, in fact, did news +come of their capture, so Tinkletown was obliged to settle back +into a state of tranquility. Some little interest was aroused when +the town board ordered the calaboose repaired, and there was a +ripple of excitement attached to the funeral of the only kidnaper +in captivity. It was necessary to postpone the oyster supper at the +Methodist Church, but there was some consolation in the knowledge +that it would soon be summer-time and the benighted Africans would +not need the money for winter clothes. The reception at the +minister's house was a fizzle. He was warned in time, however, and +it was his own fault that he received no more than a jug of +vinegar, two loaves of bread and a pound of honey as the result of +his expectations. It was the first time that a "pound" party had +proven a losing enterprise.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow maintained a relentless search for the +desperadoes. He refused to accept Wicker Bonner's theory that they +were safe in the city of New York. It was his own opinion that they +were still in the neighbourhood, waiting for a chance to exhume the +body of Davy's mother and make off with it.</p> +<p>"Don't try to tell me, Mr. Bonner, that even a raskil like him +hasn't any love fer his mother," he contended. "Davy may not be +much of a model, but he had a feelin' fer the woman who bore him, +an' don't you fergit it."</p> +<p>"Why, Daddy Crow, he was the most heartless brute in the world!" +cried Rosalie. "I've seen him knock her down more than +once—and kick her, too."</p> +<p>"A slip of the memory, that's all. He was probably thinkin' of +his wife, if he has one."</p> +<p>At a public meeting the town board was condemned for its failure +to strengthen the jail at the time Anderson made his demand three +years before.</p> +<p>"What's the use in me catchin' thieves, and so forth, if the +jail won't hold 'em?" Anderson declared. "I cain't afford to waste +time in runnin' desperite characters down if the town board ain't +goin' to obstruct 'em from gittin' away as soon as the sun sits. +What's the use, I'd like to know? Where's the justice? I don't want +it to git noised aroun' that the on'y way we c'n hold a prisoner is +to have him commit suicide as soon as he's arrested. Fer two cents +I'd resign right now."</p> +<p>Of course no one would hear to that. As a result, nearly five +hundred dollars was voted from the corporation funds to strengthen +and modernise the "calaboose." It was the sense of the meeting that +a "sweat box" should be installed under Mr. Crow's supervision, and +that the marshal's salary should be increased fifty dollars a year. +After the adoption of this popular resolution Mr. Crow arose and +solemnly informed the people that their faith in him was not +misplaced. He threw the meeting into a state of great excitement by +announcing that the kidnapers would soon be in the toils once more. +In response to eager queries he merely stated that he had a +valuable clew, which could not be divulged without detriment to the +cause. Everybody went home that night with the assurance that the +fugitives would soon be taken. Anderson promised the town board +that he would not take them until the jail was repaired.</p> +<p>It was almost a fortnight before Wicker Bonner was able to walk +about with crutches. The wound in his leg was an ugly one and +healed slowly. His uncle, the Congressman, sent up a surgeon from +New York, but that worthy approved of "Doc" Smith's methods, and +abruptly left the young man to the care of an excellent nurse, +Rosalie Gray. Congressman Bonner's servants came over every day or +two with books, newspapers, sweetmeats, and fresh supplies from the +city, but it was impossible for them to get any satisfaction from +the young man in reply to their inquiries as to when he expected to +return to the big house across the river. Bonner was beginning to +hate the thought of giving up Rosalie's readings, her +ministrations, and the no uncertain development of his own opinions +as to her personal attractiveness.</p> +<p>"I don't know when I'll be able to walk, Watkins," he said to +the caretaker. "I'm afraid my heart is affected."</p> +<p>Bonner's enforced presence at Anderson Crow's home was the +source of extreme annoyance to the young men of the town. "Blootch" +Peabody created a frightful scandal by getting boiling drunk toward +the end of the week, so great was his dejection. As it was his +first real spree, he did not recover from the effect for three +days. He then took the pledge, and talked about the evils of strong +drink with so much feeling at prayer meeting that the women of the +town inaugurated a movement to stop the sale of liquor in the town. +As Peabody's drug store was the only place where whiskey could be +obtained, "Blootch" soon saw the error of his ways and came down +from his pedestal to mend them.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/245.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Bonner was a friend in need to Anderson Crow. The two were in +consultation half of the time, and the young man's opinions were +not to be disregarded. He advanced a theory concerning the motives +of the leader in the plot to send Rosalie into an exile from which +she was not expected to return. It was his belief that the person +who abandoned her as a babe was actuated by the desire to possess a +fortune which should have been the child's. The conditions +attending the final disposition of this fortune doubtless were such +as to make it unwise to destroy the girl's life. The plotter, +whatever his or her relation to the child may have been, must have +felt that a time might come when the existence of the real heiress +would be necessary. Either such a fear was the inspiration or the +relationship was so dear that the heart of the arch-plotter was +full of love for the innocent victim.</p> +<p>"Who is to say, Miss Gray," said Bonner one night as they sat +before the fire, "that the woman who left you with Mr. Crow was not +your own mother? Suppose that a vast estate was to be yours in +trust after the death of some rich relative, say grandparent. It +would naturally mean that some one else resented this bequest, and +probably with some justice. The property was to become your own +when you attained a certain age, let us say. Don't you see that the +day would rob the disinherited person of every hope to retain the +fortune? Even a mother might be tempted, for ambitious reasons, to +go to extreme measures to secure the fortune for herself. Or she +might have been influenced by a will stronger than her +own—the will of an unscrupulous man. There are many +contingencies, all probable, as you choose to analyse them."</p> +<p>"But why should this person wish to banish me from the country +altogether? I am no more dangerous here than I would be anywhere in +Europe. And then think of the means they would have employed to get +me away from Tinkletown. Have I not been lost to the world for +years? Why—"</p> +<p>"True; but I am quite convinced, and I think Mr. Crow agrees +with me, that the recent move was made necessary by the demands of +one whose heart is not interested, but whose hand wields the +sceptre of power over the love which tries to shield you. Any other +would have cut off your life at the beginning."</p> +<p>"That's my idee," agreed Anderson solemnly.</p> +<p>"I don't want the fortune!" cried Rosalie. "I am happy here! Why +can't they let me alone?"</p> +<p>"I tell you, Miss Gray, unless something happens to prevent it, +that woman will some day give you back your own—your fortune +and your name."</p> +<p>"I can't believe it, Mr. Bonner. It is too much like a dream to +me."</p> +<p>"Well, doggone it, Rosalie, dreams don't last forever!" broke in +Anderson Crow. "You've got to wake up some time, don't you +see?"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3><i>As the Heart Grows Older</i></h3> +<p>Bonner's eagerness to begin probing into the mystery grew as his +strength came back to him. He volunteered to interest his uncle in +the matter, and through him to begin a systematic effort to unravel +the tangled ends of Rosalie's life. Money was not to be spared; +time and intelligence were to be devoted to the cause. He knew that +Rosalie was in reality a creature of good birth and worthy of the +name that any man might seek to bestow upon her—a name given +in love by a man to the woman who would share it with him +forever.</p> +<p>The days and nights were teaching him the sacredness of a +growing attachment. He was not closing his eyes to the truth. It +was quite as impossible for big, worldly Wick Bonner to be near her +and not fall a victim, as it was for the crude, humble youth of +Tinkletown. His heart was just as fragile as theirs when it bared +itself to her attack. Her beauty attracted him, her natural +refinement of character appealed to him; her pureness, her +tenderness, her goodness, wrought havoc with his impressions. +Fresh, bright, as clear-headed as the June sunshine, she was a +revelation to him—to Bonner, who had known her sex in all its +environments. His heart was full of her, day and night; for day and +night he was wondering whether she could care for him as he knew he +was coming to care for her.</p> +<p>One day he received a telegram. It was from his mother and his +sister, who had just reached Boston from Bermuda, and it carried +the brief though emphatic information that they were starting to +Tinkletown to nurse and care for him. Bonner was thrown into a +panic. He realised in the instant that it would be impossible for +them to come to Mr. Crow's home, and he knew they could not be +deceived as to his real condition. His mother would naturally +insist upon his going at once to Bonner Place, across the river, +and on to Boston as soon as he was able; his clever sister would +see through his motives like a flash of lightning. Young Mr. Bonner +loved them, but he was distinctly bored by the prospect of their +coming. In some haste and confusion, he sent for "Doc" Smith.</p> +<p>"Doctor, how soon will I be able to navigate?" he asked +anxiously.</p> +<p>"Right now."</p> +<p>"You don't say so! I don't feel strong, you know."</p> +<p>"Well, your leg's doing well and all danger is past. Of course, +you won't be as spry as usual for some time, and you can't walk +without crutches, but I don't see any sense in your loafing around +here on that account. You'd be safe to go at any time, Mr. +Bonner."</p> +<p>"Look here, doctor, I'm afraid to change doctors. You've handled +this case mighty well, and if I went to some other chap, he might +undo it all. I've made up my mind to have you look out for me until +this wound is completely healed. That's all right, now. I know what +I'm talking about. I'll take no chances. How long will it be until +it is completely healed?"</p> +<p>"A couple of weeks, I suppose."</p> +<p>"Well, I'll stay right here and have you look at it every day. +It's too serious a matter for me to trifle with. By the way, my +mother is coming up, and I dare say she'll want me to go to Boston. +Our family doctor is an old fossil and I don't like to trust him +with this thing. You'll be doing me a favour, doctor, if you keep +me here until I'm thoroughly well. I intend to tell my mother that +it will not be wise to move me until all danger of blood poisoning +is past."</p> +<p>"Blood poisoning? There's no danger now, sir."</p> +<p>"You never can tell," said Bonner sagely.</p> +<p>"But I'd be a perfect fool, Mr. Bonner, if there were still +danger of that," complained the doctor. "What sort of a doctor +would they consider me?"</p> +<p>"They'd certainly give you credit for being careful, and that's +what appeals to a mother, you know," said Bonner still more sagely. +"Besides, it's <i>my</i> leg, doctor, and I'll have it treated my +way. I think a couple of weeks more under your care will put me +straight. Mother has to consider me, that's all. I wish you'd stop +in to-morrow and change these bandages, doctor; if you don't +mind—"</p> +<p>"Doc" Smith was not slow. He saw more than Bonner thought, so he +winked to himself as he crossed over to his office. At the corner +he met Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson," he said, half chuckling, "that young Bonner has +had a relapse."</p> +<p>"Thunderation!"</p> +<p>"He can't be moved for a week or two."</p> +<p>"Will you have to cut it off?"</p> +<p>"The leg?"</p> +<p>"Certainly. That's the only thing that pains him, ain't it?"</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/251.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"I think not. I'm going to put his heart in a sling," said +Smith, laughing heartily at what he thought would be taken as a +brilliant piece of jesting. But he erred. Anderson went home in a +great flurry and privately cautioned every member of the household, +including Rosalie, to treat Bonner with every consideration, as his +heart was weak and liable to give him great trouble. Above all, he +cautioned them to keep the distressing news from Bonner. It would +discourage him mightily. For a full week Anderson watched Bonner +with anxious eyes, writhing every time the big fellow exerted +himself, groaning when he gave vent to his hearty laugh.</p> +<p>"Have you heard anything?" asked Bonner with faithful regularity +when Anderson came home each night. He referred to the chase for +the fugitives.</p> +<p>"Nothin' worth while," replied Anderson dismally. "Uncle Jimmy +Borton had a letter from Albany to-day, an' his son-in-law said +three strange men had been seen in the Albany depot the other day. +I had Uncle Jimmy write an' ast him if he had seen anybody +answerin' the description, you know. But the three men he spoke of +took a train for New York, so I suppose they're lost by this time. +It's the most bafflin' case I ever worked on."</p> +<p>"Has it occurred to you that the real leader was in this +neighbourhood at the time? In Boggs City, let us say. According to +Rosa—Miss Gray's story, the man Sam went out nightly for +instructions. Well, he either went to Boggs City or to a meeting +place agreed upon between him and his superior. It is possible that +he saw this person on the very night of my own adventure. Now, the +thing for us to do is to find out if a stranger was seen in these +parts on that night. The hotel registers in Boggs City may give us +a clew. If you don't mind, Mr. Crow, I'll have this New York +detective, who is coming up to-morrow, take a look into this phase +of the case. It won't interfere with your plans, will it?" asked +Bonner, always considerate of the feelings of the good-hearted, +simple-minded old marshal.</p> +<p>"Not at all, an' I'll help him all I can, sir," responded +Anderson magnanimously. "Here, Eva, here's a letter fer Rosalie. +It's the second she's had from New York in three days."</p> +<p>"It's from Miss Banks. They correspond, Anderson," said Mrs. +Crow.</p> +<p>"And say, Eva, I've decided on one thing. We've got to calculate +on gittin' along without that thousand dollars after this."</p> +<p>"Why, An—der—son Crow!"</p> +<p>"Yep. We're goin' to find her folks, no matter if we do have to +give up the thousand. It's no more'n right. She'll be twenty-one in +March, an' I'll have to settle the guardeenship business anyhow. +But, doggone it, Mr. Bonner, she says she won't take the money +we've saved fer her."</p> +<p>"She has told me as much, Mr. Crow. I think she's partly right. +If she takes my advice she will divide it with you. You are +entitled to all of it, you know—it was to be your +pay—and she will not listen to your plan to give all of it to +her. Still, I feel that she should not be penniless at this time. +She may never need it—she certainly will not as long as you +are alive—but it seems a wise thing for her to be protected +against emergencies. But I dare say you can arrange that between +yourselves. I have no right to interfere. Was there any mail for +me?"</p> +<p>"Yep. I almost fergot to fork it over. Here's one from your +mother, I figger. This is from your sister, an' here's one from +your—your sweetheart, I reckon. I deduce all this by sizin' +up the—" and he went on to tell how he reached his +conclusions, all of which were wrong. They were invitations to +social affairs in Boston. "But I got somethin' important to tell +you, Mr. Bonner. I think a trap is bein' set fer me by the +desperadoes we're after. I guess I'm gittin' too hot on their +trail. I had an ananymous letter to-day."</p> +<p>"A what?"</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/254.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Ananymous letter. Didn't you ever hear of one? This one was +writ fer the express purpose of lurin' me into a trap. They want to +git me out of the way. But I'll fool 'em. I'll not pay any +attention to it."</p> +<p>"Goodness, Anderson, I bet you'll be assassinated yet!" cried +his poor wife. "I wish you'd give up chasin' people down."</p> +<p>"May I have a look at the letter, Mr. Crow?" asked Bonner. +Anderson stealthily drew the square envelope from his inside pocket +and passed it over.</p> +<p>"They've got to git up purty early to ketch me asleep," he said +proudly. Bonner drew the enclosure from the envelope. As he read, +his eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth twitched, but his +face was politely sober as he handed the missive back to the +marshal. "Looks like a trap, don't it?" said Anderson. "You see +there ain't no signature. The raskils were afraid to sign a +name."</p> +<p>"I wouldn't say anything to Miss Gray about this if I were you, +Mr. Crow. It might disturb her, you know," said Bonner.</p> +<p>"That means you, too, Eva," commanded Anderson in turn. "Don't +worry the girl. She mustn't know anything about this."</p> +<p>"I don't think it's a trap," remarked Eva as she finished +reading the missive. Bonner took this opportunity to laugh +heartily. He had held it back as long as possible. What Anderson +described as an "ananymous" letter was nothing more than a polite, +formal invitation to attend a "house warming" at Colonel Randall's +on the opposite side of the river. It read:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. D.F. Randall request the honour of your presence +at a house warming, Friday evening, January 30, 190—, at +eight o'clock. Rockden-of-the-Hills."</p> +</div> +<p>"It is addressed to me, too, Anderson," said his wife, pointing +to the envelope. "It's the new house they finished last fall. +Anonymous letter! Fiddlesticks! I bet there's one at the +post-office fer each one of the girls."</p> +<p>"Roscoe got some of the mail," murmured the marshal sheepishly. +"Where is that infernal boy? He'd oughter be strapped good and hard +fer holdin' back letters like this," growled he, eager to run the +subject into another channel. After pondering all evening, he +screwed up the courage and asked Bonner not to tell any one of his +error in regard to the invitation. Roscoe produced invitations for +his sister and Rosalie. He furthermore announced that half the +people in town had received them.</p> +<p>"There's a telegram comin' up fer you after a while, Mr. +Bonner," he said. "Bud's out delivering one to Mr. Grimes, and he's +going to stop here on the way back. I was at the station when it +come in. It's from your ma, and it says she'll be over from Boggs +City early in the morning."</p> +<p>"Thanks, Roscoe," said Bonner with an amused glance at Rosalie; +"you've saved me the trouble of reading it."</p> +<p>"They are coming to-morrow," said Rosalie long afterward, as the +last of the Crows straggled off to bed. "You will have to go away +with them, won't you?"</p> +<p>"I'm an awful nuisance about here, I fancy, and you'll be glad +to be rid of me," he said softly, his gaze on the blazing +"back-log."</p> +<p>"No more so than you will be to go," she said so coolly that his +pride suffered a distinct shock. He stole a shy glance at the face +of the girl opposite. It was as calm and serene as a May morning. +Her eyes likewise were gazing into the blaze, and her fingers were +idly toying with the fringe on the arm of the chair.</p> +<p>"By George!" he thought, a weakness assailing his heart +suddenly; "I don't believe she cares a rap!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3><i>The Left Ventricle</i></h3> +<p>The next day Mrs. Bonner and Miss Bonner descended upon +Tinkletown. They were driven over from Boggs City in an automobile, +and their advent caused a new thrill of excitement in town. Half of +the women in Tinkletown found excuse to walk past Mr. Crow's home +some time during the day, and not a few of them called to pay their +respects to Mrs. Crow, whether they owed them or not, much to that +estimable lady's discomfiture.</p> +<p>Wicker's mother was a handsome, aristocratic woman with a +pedigree reaching back to Babylon or some other historic starting +place. Her ancestors were Tories at the time of the American +Revolution, and she was proud of it. Her husband's forefathers had +shot a few British in those days, it is true, and had successfully +chased some of her own ancestors over to Long Island, but that did +not matter in these twentieth century days. Mr. Bonner long since +had gone to the tomb; and his widow at fifty was quite the queen of +all she surveyed, which was not inconsiderable. The Bonners were +rich in worldly possessions, rich in social position, rich in +traditions. The daughter, just out in society, was a pretty girl, +several years younger than Wicker. She was the idol of his heart. +This slip of a girl had been to him the brightest, wittiest and +prettiest girl in all the world. Now, he was wondering how the +other girl, who was not his sister, would compare with her when +they stood together before him.</p> +<p>Naturally, Mrs. Crow and her daughters sank into a nervous panic +as soon as these fashionable women from Boston set foot inside the +humble home. They lost what little self-possession they had managed +to acquire and floundered miserably through the preliminaries.</p> +<p>But calm, sweet and composed as the most fastidious would +require, Rosalie greeted the visitors without a shadow of confusion +or a sign of gaucherie. Bonner felt a thrill of joy and pride as he +took note of the look of surprise that crept into his mother's +face—a surprise that did not diminish as the girl went +through her unconscious test.</p> +<p>"By George!" he cried jubilantly to himself, "she's something to +be proud of—she's a queen!"</p> +<p>Later in the day, after the humble though imposing lunch (the +paradox was permissible in Tinkletown), Mrs. Bonner found time and +opportunity to express her surprise and her approval to him. With +the insight of the real aristocrat, she was not blind to the charms +of the girl, who blossomed like a rose in this out-of-the-way patch +of nature. The tact which impelled Rosalie to withdraw herself and +all of the Crows from the house, giving the Bonners an opportunity +to be together undisturbed, did not escape the clever woman of the +world.</p> +<p>"She is remarkable, Wicker. Tell me about her. Why does she +happen to be living in this wretched town and among such +people?"</p> +<p>Whereupon Bonner rushed into a detailed and somewhat lengthy +history of the mysterious Miss Gray, repeating it as it had come to +him from her own frank lips, but with embellishments of his own +that would have brought the red to her cheeks, could she have heard +them. His mother's interest was not assumed; his sister was +fascinated by the recital.</p> +<p>"Who knows," she cried, her dark eyes sparkling, "she may be an +heiress to millions!"</p> +<p>"Or a princess of the royal blood!" amended her mother with an +enthusiasm that was uncommon. "Blood alone has made this girl what +she is. Heaven knows that billions or trillions could not have +overcome the influences of a lifetime spent in—in +Winkletown—or is that the name? It doesn't matter, +Wicker—any name will satisfy. Frankly, I am interested in the +girl. It is a crime to permit her to vegetate and die in a place +like this."</p> +<p>"But, mother, she loves these people," protested Bonner +lifelessly. "They have been kind to her all these years. They have +been parents, protectors—"</p> +<p>"And they have been well paid for it, my son. Please do not +misunderstand me, I am not planning to take her off their hands. I +am not going to reconstruct her sphere in life. Not by any means. I +am merely saying that it is a crime for her to be penned up for +life in this—this desert. I doubt very much whether her +parentage will ever be known, and perhaps it is just as well that +it isn't to be. Still, I am interested."</p> +<p>"Mamma, I think it would be very nice to ask her to come to +Boston for a week or two, don't you?" suggested Edith Bonner, +warmly but doubtfully.</p> +<p>"Bully!" exclaimed Wicker, forgetting in his excitement that he +was a cripple. "Have her come on to stop a while with you, Ede. It +will be a great treat for her and, by George, I'm inclined to think +it maybe somewhat beneficial to us."</p> +<p>"Your enthusiasm is beautiful, Wicker," said his mother, +perfectly unruffled. "I have no doubt you think Boston would be +benefited, too."</p> +<p>"Now, you know, mother, it's not just like you to be snippish," +said he easily. "Besides, after living a while in other parts of +the world, I'm beginning to feel that population is not the only +thing about Boston that can be enlarged. It's all very nice to pave +our streets with intellect so that we can't stray from our own +footsteps, but I rather like the idea of losing my way, once in a +while, even if I have to look at the same common, old sky up there +that the rest of the world looks at, don't you know. I've learned +recently that the same sun that shines on Boston also radiates for +the rest of the world."</p> +<p>"Yes, it shines in Tinkletown," agreed his mother serenely. +"But, my dear—" turning to her daughter—"I think you +would better wait a while before extending the invitation. There is +no excuse for rushing into the unknown. Let time have a +chance."</p> +<p>"By Jove, mother, you talk sometimes like Anderson Crow. He +often says things like that," cried Wicker delightedly.</p> +<p>"Dear me! How can you say such a thing, Wicker?"</p> +<p>"Well, you'd like old Anderson. He's a jewel!"</p> +<p>"I dare say—an emerald. No, no—that was not fair or +kind, Wicker. I unsay it. Mr. Crow and all of them have been good +to you. Forgive me the sarcasm. Mr. Crow is perfectly impossible, +but I like him. He has a heart, and that is more than most of us +can say. And now let us return to earth once more. When will you be +ready to start for Boston? To-morrow?"</p> +<p>"Heavens, no! I'm not to be moved for quite a long +time—danger of gangrene or something of the sort. It's +astonishing, mother, what capable men these country doctors are. +Dr. Smith is something of a marvel. He—he—saved my +leg."</p> +<p>"My boy—you don't mean that—" his mother was saying, +her voice trembling.</p> +<p>"Yes; that's what I mean. I'm all right now, but, of course, I +shall be very careful for a couple of weeks. One can't tell, you +know. Blood poisoning and all that sort of thing. But let's not +talk of it—it's gruesome."</p> +<p>"Indeed it is. You must be extremely careful, Wicker. Promise me +that you will do nothing foolish. Don't use your leg until the +doctor—but I have something better. We will send for Dr. +J——. He can run up from Boston two or three +times—"</p> +<p>"Nothing of the sort, mother! Nonsense! Smith knows more in a +minute than J—— does in a month. He's handling the case +exactly as I want him to. Let well enough alone, say I. You know +J—— always wants to amputate everything that can be cut +or sawed off. For heaven's sake, don't let him try it on me. I need +my legs."</p> +<p>It is not necessary to say that Mrs. Bonner was completely won +over by this argument. She commanded him to stay where he was until +it was perfectly safe to be moved across the river, where he could +recuperate before venturing into the city of his birth. Moreover, +she announced that Edith and she would remain in Boggs City until +he was quite out of danger, driving over every day in their +chartered automobile. It suddenly struck Bonner that it would be +necessary to bribe "Doc" Smith and the entire Crow family, if he +was to maintain his position as an invalid.</p> +<p>"Doc" Smith when put to the test lied ably in behalf of his +client (he refused to call him his patient), and Mrs. Bonner was +convinced. Mr. Crow and Eva vigorously protested that the young man +would not be a "mite of trouble," and that he could stay as long as +he liked.</p> +<p>"He's a gentleman, Mrs. Bonner," announced the marshal, as if +the mother was being made aware of the fact for the first time. +"Mrs. Crow an' me have talked it over, an' I know what I'm talkin' +about. He's a perfect gentleman."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Crow. I am happy to hear you say that," said +Mrs. Bonner, with fine tact. "You will not mind if he stops here a +while longer then?"</p> +<p>"I should say not. If he'll take the job, I'll app'int him +deputy marshal."</p> +<p>"I'd like a picture of you with the badge and uniform, Wick," +said Edith with good-natured banter.</p> +<p>Just before the two ladies left for Boggs City that evening +Bonner managed to say something to Edith.</p> +<p>"Say, Ede, I think it would be uncommonly decent of you to ask +Miss Gray down to Boston this spring. You'll like her."</p> +<p>"Wicker, if it were not so awfully common, I'd laugh in my +sleeve," said she, surveying him with a calm scrutiny that +disconcerted. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. Mother was, +perhaps, but not your dear little sister. Cheer up, brother. You'll +get over it, just like all the rest. I'll ask her to come, +but—Please don't frown like that. I'll suspect +something."</p> +<p>During the many little automobile excursions that the two girls +enjoyed during those few days in Tinkletown, Miss Bonner found much +to love in Rosalie, much to esteem and a great deal to anticipate. +Purposely, she set about to learn by "deduction" just what +Rosalie's feelings were for the big brother. She would not have +been surprised to discover the telltale signs of a real but secret +affection on Rosalie's part, but she was, on the contrary, amazed +and not a little chagrined to have the young girl meet every +advance with a joyous candour, that definitely set aside any +possibility of love for the supposedly irresistible brother. Miss +Edith's mind was quite at rest, but with the arrogant pride of a +sister, she resented the fact that any one could know this +cherished brother and not fall a victim. Perversely, she would have +hated Rosalie had she caught her, in a single moment of +unguardedness, revealing a feeling more tender than friendly +interest for him.</p> +<p>Sophisticated and world-wise, the gay, careless Miss Bonner read +her pages quickly—she skimmed them—but she saw a great +deal between the lines. If her mother had been equally discerning, +that very estimable lady might have found herself immensely +relieved along certain lines.</p> +<p>Bonner was having a hard time of it these days. It was worse +than misery to stay indoors, and it was utterly out of the question +for him to venture out. His leg was healing with disgusting +rashness, but his heart was going into an illness that was to scoff +at the cures of man. And if his parting with his mother and the +rosy-faced young woman savoured of relief, he must he forgiven. A +sore breast is no respecter of persons.</p> +<p>They were returning to the Hub by the early morning train from +Boggs City, and it was understood that Rosalie was to come to them +in June. Let it be said in good truth that both Mrs. Bonner and her +daughter were delighted to have her promise. If they felt any +uneasiness as to the possibility of unwholesome revelations in +connection with her birth, they purposely blindfolded themselves +and indulged in the game of consequences.</p> +<p>Mrs. Bonner was waiting in the automobile, having said good-bye +to Wicker.</p> +<p>"I'll keep close watch on him, Mrs. Bonner," promised Anderson, +"and telegraph you if his condition changes a mite. I ast 'Doc' +Smith to-day to tell me the real truth 'bout him, an'—"</p> +<p>"The real truth? What do you mean?" she cried, in fresh +alarm.</p> +<p>"Don't worry, ma'am. He's improvin' fine, 'doc' says. He told me +he'd be out o' danger when he got back to Boston. His heart's +worryin' 'doc' a little. I ast 'im to speak plain an' tell me jest +how bad it's affected. He said: 'At present, only the left +ventricle—whatever that be—only the left one is +punctured, but the right one seems to need a change of air.'"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER +XXVII</h2> +<h3><i>The Grin Derisive</i></h3> +<p>"I like your ma," said Anderson to Wicker, later in the evening. +"She's a perfect lady. Doggone, it's a relief to see a rich woman +that knows how to be a lady. She ain't a bit stuck up an' yet she's +a reg'lar aristocrat. Did I ever tell you about what happened to +Judge Courtwright's wife? No? Well, it was a long time ago, right +here in Tinkletown. The judge concluded this would be a good place +fer a summer home—so him an' her put up a grand residence +down there on the river bluff. It was the only summer place on this +side of the river. Well, of course Mrs. Courtwright had to turn in +an' be the leader of the women in this place. She lorded it over +'em an' she give 'em to understand that she was a queen er +somethin' like that an' they was nothin' but peasants. An' the +derned fool women 'lowed her to do it, too. Seems as though her +great-grandfather was a 'squire over in England, an' she had a +right to be swell. Well, she ruled the roost fer two summers an' +nobody could get near her without a special dispensation from the +Almighty. She wouldn't look at anybody with her eyes; her chin was +so high in the air that she had to look through her nose.</p> +<p>"Her husband was as old as Methoosalum—that is, he was as +old as Methoosalum was when he was a boy, so to speak—an' she +had him skeered of his life. But I fixed her. At the end of the +second summer she was ready to git up an' git, duke er no duke. +Lemme me give you a tip, Wick. If you want to fetch a queen down to +your level, jest let her know you're laughin' at her. Well, sir, +the judge's wife used to turn up her nose at me until I got to +feelin' too small to be seen. My pride was wallerin' in the dust. +Finally, I thought of a scheme to fix her. Every time I saw her, +I'd grin at her—not sayin' a word, mind you, but jest lookin' +at her as if she struck me as bein' funny. Well, sir, I kept it up +good an' strong. First thing I knowed, she was beginnin' to look as +though a bee had stung her an' she couldn't find the place. I'd +ketch her stealin' sly glances at me an' she allus found me with a +grin on my face—a good, healthy grin, too.</p> +<p>"There wasn't anything to laugh at, mind you, but she didn't +know that. She got to fixin' her back hair and lookin' worried +about her clothes. 'Nen she'd wipe her face to see if the powder +was on straight, all the time wonderin' what in thunder I was +laughin' at. If she passed in her kerridge she'd peep back to see +if I was laughin'; and I allus was. I never failed. All this time I +wasn't sayin' a word-jest grinnin' as though she tickled me half to +death. Gradually I begin to be scientific about it. I got so that +when she caught me laughin', I'd try my best to hide the grin. +Course that made it all the worse. She fidgeted an' squirmed an' +got red in the face till it looked like she was pickled. Doggone, +ef she didn't begin to neglect her business as a +great-granddaughter! She didn't have time to lord it over her +peasants. She was too blame busy wonderin' what I was laughin' +at.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i268.jpg" id="i268.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/268.jpg"><img src="images/268.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"It was a wise, discreet old oak"</b></div> +<p>"'Nen she begin to look peaked an' thin. She looked like she was +seem' ghosts all the time. That blamed grin of mine pursued her +every minute. Course, she couldn't kick about it. That wouldn't do +at all. She jest had to bear it without grinnin'. There wasn't +anything to say. Finally, she got to stayin' away from the meetin's +an' almost quit drivin' through the town. Everybody noticed the +change in her. People said she was goin' crazy about her back hair. +She lost thirty pounds worryin' before August, and when September +come, the judge had to take her to a rest cure. They never come +back to Tinkletown, an' the judge had to sell the place fer half +what it cost him. Fer two years she almost went into hysterics when +anybody laughed. But it done her good. It changed her idees. She +got over her high an' mighty ways, they say, an' I hear she's one +of the nicest, sweetest old ladies in Boggs City nowadays. But +Blootch Peabody says that to this day she looks flustered when +anybody notices her back hair. The Lord knows I wa'n't laughin' at +her hair. I don't see why she thought so, do you?"</p> +<p>Bonner laughed long and heartily over the experiment; but +Rosalie vigorously expressed her disapproval of the marshal's +methods.</p> +<p>"It's the only real mean thing I ever heard of you doing, daddy +Crow!" she cried. "It was cruel!"</p> +<p>"Course you'd take her part, bein' a woman," said he serenely. +"Mrs. Crow did, too, when I told her about it twenty years ago. +Women ain't got much sense of humour, have they, Wick?" He was +calling him Wick nowadays; and the young man enjoyed the +familiarity.</p> +<p>The days came when Bonner could walk about with his cane, and he +was not slow to avail himself of the privilege this afforded. It +meant enjoyable strolls with Rosalie, and it meant the elevation of +his spirits to such heights that the skies formed no bounds for +them. The town was not slow to draw conclusions. Every one said it +would be a "match." It was certain that the interesting Boston man +had acquired a clear field. Tinkletown's beaux gave up in despair +and dropped out of the contest with the hope that complete recovery +from his injuries might not only banish Bonner from the village, +but also from the thoughts of Rosalie Gray. Most of the young men +took their medicine philosophically. They had known from the first +that their chances were small. Blootch Peabody and Ed Higgins, +because of the personal rivalry between themselves, hoped on and on +and grew more bitter between themselves, instead of toward +Bonner.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i272.jpg" id="i272.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/272.jpg"><img src="images/272.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"'I beg your pardon,' he said humbly"</b></div> +<p>Anderson Crow and Eva were delighted and the Misses Crow, after +futile efforts to interest the young man in their own wares, fell +in with the old folks and exuberantly whispered to the world that +"it would be perfectly glorious." Roscoe was not so charitable. He +was soundly disgusted with the thought of losing his friend Bonner +in the hated bonds of matrimony. From his juvenile point of view, +it was a fate that a good fellow like Bonner did not deserve. Even +Rosalie was not good enough for him, so he told Bud Long; but Bud, +who had worshipped Rosalie with a hopeless devotion through most of +his short life, took strong though sheepish exceptions to the +remark. It seemed quite settled in the minds of every one but +Bonner and Rosalie themselves. They went along evenly, happily, +perhaps dreamily, letting the present and the future take care of +themselves as best they could, making mountains of the +past—mountains so high and sheer that they could not be +surmounted in retreat.</p> +<p>Bonner was helplessly in love—so much so, indeed, that in +the face of it, he lost the courage that had carried him through +trivial affairs of the past, and left him floundering vaguely in +seas that looked old and yet were new. Hourly, he sought for the +first sign of love in her eyes, for the first touch of sentiment; +but if there was a point of weakness in her defence, it was not +revealed to the hungry perception of the would-be conqueror. And so +they drifted on through the February chill, that seemed warm to +them, through the light hours and the dark ones, quickly and surely +to the day which was to call him cured of one ill and yet sorely +afflicted by another.</p> +<p>Through it all he was saying to himself that it did not matter +what her birth may have been, so long as she lived at this hour in +his life, and yet a still, cool voice was whispering +procrastination with ding-dong persistency through every avenue of +his brain. "Wait!" said the cool voice of prejudice. His heart did +not hear, but his brain did. One look of submission from her tender +eyes and his brain would have turned deaf to the small, cool +voice—but her eyes stood their ground and the voice +survived.</p> +<p>The day was fast approaching when it would be necessary for him +to leave the home of Mr. Crow. He could no longer encroach upon the +hospitality and good nature of the marshal—especially as he +had declined the proffered appointment to become deputy town +marshal. Together they had discussed every possible side to the +abduction mystery and had laid the groundwork for a systematic +attempt at a solution. There was nothing more for them to do. True +to his promise, Bonner had put the case in the hands of one of the +greatest detectives in the land, together with every known point in +the girl's history. Tinkletown was not to provide the solution, +although it contained the mystery. On that point there could be no +doubt; so, Mr. Bonner was reluctantly compelled to admit to himself +that he had no plausible excuse for staying on. The great detective +from New York had come to town, gathered all of the facts under +cover of strictest secrecy, run down every possible shadow of a +clew in Boggs City, and had returned to the metropolis, there to +begin the search twenty-one years back.</p> +<p>"Four weeks," Bonner was saying to her reflectively, as they +came homeward from their last visit to the abandoned mill on Turnip +Creek. It was a bright, warm February morning, suggestive of spring +and fraught with the fragrance of something far sweeter. "Four +weeks of idleness and joy to me—almost a lifetime in the +waste of years. Does it seem long to you, Miss Gray—oh, I +remember, I am to call you Rosalie."</p> +<p>"It seems that I have known you always instead of for four +weeks," she said gently. "They have been happy weeks, haven't they? +My—our only fear is that you haven't been comfortable in our +poor little home. It's not what you are accustomed—"</p> +<p>"Home is what the home folks make it," he said, striving to +quote a vague old saying. He was dimly conscious of a subdued smile +on her part and he felt the fool. "At any rate, I was more than +comfortable. I was happy—never so happy. All my life shall be +built about this single month—my past ends with it, my future +begins. You, Rosalie," he went on swiftly, his eyes gleaming with +the love that would not be denied, "are the spirit of life as I +shall know it from this day forth. It is you who have made +Tinkletown a kingdom, one of its homes a palace. Don't turn your +face away, Rosalie."</p> +<p>But she turned her face toward him and her dark eyes did not +flinch as they met his, out there in the bleak old wood.</p> +<p>"Don't, please don't, Wicker," she said softly, firmly. Her hand +touched his arm for an instant. "You will understand, won't you? +Please don't!" There was a world of meaning in it.</p> +<p>His heart turned cold as ice, the blood left his face. He +understood. She did not love him.</p> +<p>"Yes," he said, his voice dead and hoarse, "I think I +understand, Rosalie. I have taken too much for granted, fool that I +am. Bah! The egotism of a fool!"</p> +<p>"You must not speak like that," she said, her face contracted by +pain and pity. "You are the most wonderful man I've ever +known—the best and the truest. But—" and she paused, +with a wan, drear smile on her lips.</p> +<p>"I understand," he interrupted. "Don't say it. I want to think +that some day you will feel like saying something else, and I want +to hope, Rosalie, that it won't always be like this. Let us talk +about something else." But neither cared to speak for what seemed +an hour. They were in sight of home before the stony silence was +broken. "I may come over from Bonner Place to see you?" he asked at +last. He was to cross the river the next day for a stay of a week +or two at his uncle's place.</p> +<p>"Yes—often, Wicker. I shall want to see you every day. +Yes, every day; I'm sure of it," she said wistfully, a hungry look +in her eyes that he did not see, for he was staring straight ahead. +Had he seen that look or caught the true tone in her voice, the +world might not have looked so dark to him. When he did look at her +again, her face was calm almost to sereneness.</p> +<p>"And you will come to Boston in June just the same?"</p> +<p>"If your sister and—and your mother still want me to +come."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a name="i278.jpg" id="i278.jpg"></a> <a href= +"images/278.jpg"><img src="images/278.jpg" width="45%" alt="" +title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"'I think I understand, Rosalie'"</b></div> +<p>She was thinking of herself, the nameless one, in the house of +his people; she was thinking of the doubts, the +speculations—even the fears that would form the background of +her welcome in that proud house. No longer was Rosalie Gray +regarding herself as the happy, careless foster-child of Anderson +Crow; she was seeing herself only as the castaway, the unwanted, +and the world was growing bitter for her. But Bonner was blind to +all this; he could not, should not know.</p> +<p>"You know they want you to come. Why do you say that?" he asked +quickly, a strange, dim perspective rising before him for an +instant, only to fade away before it could be analysed.</p> +<p>"One always says that," she replied with a smile. "It is the +penalty of being invited. Your sister has written the dearest +letter to me, and I have answered it. We love one another, she and +I."</p> +<p>"Rosalie, I am going to write to you," said he suddenly; "you +will answer?"</p> +<p>"Yes," she told him simply. His heart quickened, but faltered, +and was lost. "I had a long letter from Elsie Banks to-day," she +went on with an indifference that chilled.</p> +<p>"Oh," he said; "she is your friend who was or is to marry Tom +Reddon, I believe. I knew him at Harvard. Tell me, are they +married?"</p> +<p>"No. It was not to take place until March, but now she writes +that her mother is ill and must go to California for several +months. Mr. Reddon wants to be married at once, or before they go +West, at least; but she says she cannot consent while her mother +requires so much of her. I don't know how it will end, but I +presume they will be married and all go to California. That seems +the simple and just way, doesn't it?"</p> +<p>"Any way seems just, I'd say," he said. "They love one another, +so what's the odds? Do you know Reddon well?"</p> +<p>"I have seen him many times," she replied with apparent +evasiveness.</p> +<p>"He is a—" but here he stopped as if paralysis had seized +him suddenly. The truth shot into his brain like a deadly bolt. +Everything was as plain as day to him now. She stooped to pick up a +slim, broken reed that crossed her path, and her face was averted. +"God!" was the cry that almost escaped his lips. "She loves Reddon, +and he is going to marry her best friend!" Cold perspiration +started from every pore in his body. He had met the doom of +love—the end of hope.</p> +<p>"He has always loved her," said Rosalie so calmly that he was +shocked by her courage. "I hope she will not ask him to wait."</p> +<p>Rosalie never understood why Bonner looked at her in amazement +and said:</p> +<p>"By Jove, you are a—a marvel, Rosalie!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXVIII</h2> +<h3><i>The Blind Man's Eyes</i></h3> +<p>Bonner went away without another word of love to her. He saw the +futility of hoping, and he was noble enough to respect her plea for +silence on the subject that seemed distasteful to her. He went as +one conquered and subdued; he went with the iron in his heart for +the first time—deeply imbedded and racking.</p> +<p>Bonner came twice from the place across the river. Anderson +observed that he looked "peaked," and Rosalie mistook the hungry, +wan look in his face for the emaciation natural to confinement +indoors. He was whiter than was his wont, and there was a dogged, +stubborn look growing about his eyes and mouth that would have been +understood by the sophisticated. It was the first indication of the +battle his love was to wage in days to come. He saw no sign of +weakening in Rosalie. She would not let him look into her brave +little heart, and so he turned his back upon the field and fled to +Boston, half beaten, but unconsciously collecting his forces for +the strife of another day. He did not know it then, nor did she, +but his love was not vanquished; it had met its first rebuff, that +was all.</p> +<p>Tinkletown was sorry to see him depart, but it thrived on his +promise to return. Every one winked slyly behind his back, for, of +course, Tinkletown understood it all. He would come back often and +then not at all—for the magnet would go away with him in the +end. The busybodies, good-natured but garrulous, did not have to +rehearse the story to its end; it would have been superfluous. Be +it said here, however, that Rosalie was not long in settling many +of the speculators straight in their minds. It seemed improbable +that it should not be as they had thought and hoped. The news soon +reached Blootch Peabody and Ed Higgins, and, both eager to revive a +blighted hope, in high spirits, called to see Rosalie on the same +night. It is on record that neither of them uttered two dozen words +between eight o'clock and ten, so bitterly was the presence of the +other resented.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/283.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>March came, and with it, to the intense amazement of Anderson +Crow, the ever-mysterious thousand dollars, a few weeks late. On a +certain day the old marshal took Rosalie to Boggs City, and the +guardianship proceedings were legally closed. Listlessly she +accepted half of the money he had saved, having refused to take all +of it. She was now her own mistress, much to her regret if not to +his.</p> +<p>"I may go on living with you, Daddy Crow, may I not?" she asked +wistfully as they drove home through the March blizzard. "This +doesn't mean that I cannot be your own little girl after to-day, +does it?"</p> +<p>"Don't talk like that, Rosalie Gray, er I'll put you to bed +'thout a speck o' supper," growled he in his most threatening +tones, but the tears were rolling down his cheeks at the time.</p> +<p>"Do you know, daddy, I honestly hope that the big city detective +won't find out who I am," she said after a long period of +reflection.</p> +<p>"Cause why?"</p> +<p>"Because, if he doesn't, you won't have any excuse for turning +me out."</p> +<p>"I'll not only send you to bed, but I'll give you a tarnation +good lickin' besides if you talk like—"</p> +<p>"But I'm twenty-one. You have no right," said she so brightly +that he cracked his whip over the horse's back and blew his nose +twice for full measure of gratitude.</p> +<p>"Well, I ain't heerd anything from that fly detective lately, +an' I'm beginnin' to think he ain't sech a long sight better'n I +am," said he proudly.</p> +<p>"He isn't half as good!" she cried.</p> +<p>"I mean as a detective," he supplemented apologetically.</p> +<p>"So do I," she agreed earnestly; but it was lost on him.</p> +<p>There was a letter at home for her from Edith Bonner. It brought +the news that Wicker was going South to recuperate. His system had +"gone off" since the accident, and the March winds were driving him +away temporarily. Rosalie's heart ached that night, and there was a +still, cold dread in its depths that drove sleep away. He had not +written to her, and she had begun to fear that their month had been +a trifle to him, after all. Now she was troubled and grieved that +she should have entertained the fear. Edith went on to say that her +brother had seen the New York detective, who was still hopelessly +in the dark, but struggling on in the belief that chance would open +the way for him.</p> +<p>Rosalie, strive as she would to prevent it, grew pale and the +roundness left her cheek as the weeks went by. Her every thought +was with the man who had gone to the Southland. She loved him as +she loved life, but she could not confess to him then or thereafter +unless Providence made clear the purity of her birth to her and to +all the world. When finally there came to her a long, friendly, +even dignified letter from the far South, the roses began to +struggle back to her cheeks and the warmth to her heart. Her +response brought a prompt answer from him, and the roses grew +faster than the spring itself. Friendship, sweet and loyal, marked +every word that passed between them, but there was a dear world in +each epistle—for her, at least, a world of comfort and hope. +She was praying, hungering, longing for June to come—sweet +June and its tender touch—June with its bitter-sweet and sun +clouds. Now she was forgetting the wish which had been expressed to +Anderson Crow on the drive home from Boggs City. In its place grew +the fierce hope that the once despised detective might clear away +the mystery and give her the right to stand among others without +shame and despair.</p> +<p>"Hear from Wick purty reg'lar, don't you, Rosalie?" asked +Anderson wickedly, one night while Blootch was there. The suitor +moved uneasily, and Rosalie shot a reproachful glance at Anderson, +a glance full of mischief as well.</p> +<p>"He writes occasionally, daddy."</p> +<p>"I didn't know you corresponded reg'larly," said Blootch.</p> +<p>"I did not say regularly, Blucher."</p> +<p>"He writes sweet things to beat the band, I bet," said Blootch +with a disdain he did not feel.</p> +<p>"What a good guesser you are!" she cried tormentingly.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess I'll be goin'," exploded Blootch wrathfully; +"it's gittin' late."</p> +<p>"He won't sleep much to-night," said Anderson, with a twinkle in +his eye, as the gate slammed viciously behind the caller. "Say, +Rosalie, there's somethin' been fidgetin' me fer quite a while. +I'll blurt it right out an' have it over with. Air you in love with +Wick Bonner?"</p> +<p>She started, and for an instant looked at him with wide open +eyes; then they faltered and fell. Her breath came in a frightened, +surprised gasp and her cheeks grew warm. When she looked up again, +her eyes were soft and pleading, and her lips trembled ever so +slightly.</p> +<p>"Yes, Daddy Crow, I love him," she almost whispered.</p> +<p>"An' him? How about him?"</p> +<p>"I can't answer that, daddy. He has not told me."</p> +<p>"Well, he ought to, doggone him!"</p> +<p>"I could not permit him to do so if he tried."</p> +<p>"What! You wouldn't permit? What in tarnation do you mean?"</p> +<p>"You forget, daddy, I have no right to his love. It would be +wrong—all wrong. Good-night, daddy," she cried, impulsively +kissing him and dashing away before he could check her, but not +before he caught the sound of a half sob. For a long time he sat +and stared at the fire in the grate. Then he slapped his knee +vigorously, squared his shoulders and set his jaw like a vise. +Arising, he stalked upstairs and tapped on her door. She opened it +an inch or two and peered forth at him—a pathetic figure in +white.</p> +<p>"Don't you worry, Rosalie," he gulped. "It will be all right and +hunky dory. I've just took a solemn oath down stairs."</p> +<p>"An oath, daddy?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I swore by all that's good and holy I'd find out who +your parents are ef it took till doomsday. You shall be set right +in the eyes of everybody. Now, if I was you, I'd go right to sleep. +There ain't nothin' to worry about. I've got another clew."</p> +<p>She smiled lovingly as he ambled away. Poor old Anderson's +confidence in himself was only exceeded by his great love for +her.</p> +<p>At last June smiled upon Rosalie and she was off for Boston. Her +gowns were from Albany and her happiness from +heaven—according to a reverential Tinkletown impression. For +two weeks after her departure, Anderson Crow talked himself hoarse +into willing ears, always extolling the beauty of his erstwhile +ward as she appeared before the family circle in each and every one +of those wonderful gowns.</p> +<p>This humble narrative has not to do with the glories and foibles +of Boston social life. It has to deal with the adventures of +Anderson Crow and Rosalie Gray in so far as they pertain to a place +called Tinkletown. The joys and pleasures that Rosalie experienced +during that month of June were not unusual in character. The +loneliness of Anderson Crow was not a novelty, if one stops to +consider how the world revolves for every one else. Suffice to say +that the Bonners, <i>mère, fils</i> and <i>fille</i>, +exerted themselves to make the month an unforgetable one to the +girl—and they succeeded. The usual gaiety, the same old whirl +of experiences, came to her that come to any other mortal who is +being entertained, fêted and admired. She was a +success—a pleasure in every way—not only to her hosts +but to herself. If there was a cloud hanging over her head through +all these days and nights, the world was none the wiser; the silver +lining was always visible.</p> +<p>Once while she was driving with the Bonners she saw a man whom +she knew, but did not expect to ever look upon again. She could not +be mistaken in him. It was Sam Welch, chief of the kidnapers. He +was gazing at her from a crowded street corner, but disappeared +completely before Bonner could set the police on his trail.</p> +<p>Commencement Day at Cambridge brought back hundreds of the old +men—the men famous in every branch of study and athletics. +Among them was handsome Tom Reddon. He came to see her at the +Bonner home. Elsie Banks was to return in September from Honolulu, +and they were to be married in the fall. Wicker Bonner eagerly +looked for the confusion of love in her eyes, but none appeared. +That night she told him, in reply to an impulsive demand, that she +did not care for Reddon, that she never had known the slightest +feeling of tenderness for him.</p> +<p>"Have you ever been in love, Rosalie?" he asked ruthlessly.</p> +<p>"Yes," she said after a moment, looking him bravely in the +eyes.</p> +<p>"And could you never learn to love any one else?"</p> +<p>"I think not, Wicker," she said ever so softly.</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon," he said humbly, his face white and his lips +drawn. "I should not have asked."</p> +<p>And so he remained the blind man, with the light shining full +into his eyes.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +<h3><i>The Mysterious Questioner</i></h3> +<p>July brought Rosalie's visit to an end, and once more Tinkletown +basked in her smiles and yet wondered why they were so sad and +wistful. She and Bonner were much nearer, far dearer to one another +than ever, and yet not one effort had been made to bridge the chasm +of silence concerning the thing that lay uppermost in their minds. +She only knew that Anderson Crow had not "run down" his clew, nor +had the New York sleuth reported for weeks. Undoubtedly, the latter +had given up the search, for the last heard of him was when he left +for Europe with his wife for a pleasure trip of unknown duration. +It looked so dark and hopeless to her, all of it. Had Bonner +pressed his demands upon her at the end of the visit in Boston, it +is possible—more than possible—that she would have +faltered in her resolution. After all, why should she deprive +herself of happiness if it was held out to her with the promise +that it should never end?</p> +<p>The summer turned steaming hot in the lowlands about Tinkletown, +but in the great hills across the river the air was cool, bright, +and invigorating. People began to hurry to their country homes from +the distant cities. Before the month was old, a score or more of +beautiful places were opened and filled with the sons and daughters +of the rich. Lazily they drifted and drove and walked through the +wonderful hills, famed throughout the world, and lazily they +wondered why the rest of the world lived. In the hills now were the +Randalls, the Farnsworths, the Brackens, the Brewsters, the Van +Wagenens, the Rolfes and a host of others. Tinkletown saw them +occasionally as they came jaunting by in their traps and brakes and +automobiles—but it is extremely doubtful if they saw +Tinkletown in passing.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow swelled and blossomed in the radiance of his own +importance. In his old age he was becoming fastidious. Only in the +privacy of his own back yard did he go without the black alpaca +coat; he was beginning to despise the other days, when he had gone +coatless from dawn till dark, on the street or off. His badges were +pinned neatly to his lapel and not to his suspenders, as in the +days of yore. His dignity was the same, but the old sense of +irritation was very much modified. In these new days he was +considerate—and patronising. Was he not one of the wealthiest +men in town—with his six thousand dollars laid by? Was he not +its most honoured citizen, not excepting the mayor and selectmen? +Was he not, above all, a close friend of the Bonners?</p> +<p>The Bonners were to spend August in the Congressman's home +across the big river. This fact alone was enough to stir the Crow +establishment to its most infinitesimal roots. Rosalie was to be +one of the guests at the house party, but her foster-sisters were +not the kind to be envious. They revelled with her in the +preparations for that new season of delight.</p> +<p>With the coming of the Bonners, Anderson once more revived his +resolution to unravel the mystery attending Rosalie's birth. For +some months this ambition had lain dormant, but now, with the +approach of the man she loved, the old marshal's devotion took fire +and he swore daily that the mystery should be cleared "whether it +wanted to be or not."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/292.jpg" width="40%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>He put poor old Alf Reesling through the "sweat box" time and +again, and worthless Tom Folly had many an unhappy night, wondering +why the marshal was shadowing him so persistently.</p> +<p>"Alf," demanded Anderson during one of the sessions, "where were +you on the night of February 18, 1883? Don't hesitate. Speak up. +Where were you? Aha, you cain't answer. That looks suspicious."</p> +<p>"You bet I c'n answer," said Alf bravely, blinking his blear +eyes. "I was in Tinkletown."</p> +<p>"What were you doin' that night?"</p> +<p>"I was sleepin'."</p> +<p>"At what time? Keerful now, don't lie."</p> +<p>"What time o' night did they leave her on your porch?" demanded +Alf in turn.</p> +<p>"It was jest half past 'leven."</p> +<p>"You're right, Anderson. That's jest the time I was asleep."</p> +<p>"C'n you prove it? Got witnesses?"</p> +<p>"Yes, but they don't remember the night."</p> +<p>"Then it may go hard with you. Alf, I still believe you had +somethin' to do with that case."</p> +<p>"I didn't, Anderson, so help me."</p> +<p>"Well, doggone it, somebody did," roared the marshal. "If it +wasn't you, who was it? Answer that, sir."</p> +<p>"Why, consarn you, Anderson Crow, I didn't have any spare +children to leave around on doorsteps. I've allus had trouble to +keep from leavin' myself there. Besides, it was a woman that left +her, wasn't it? Well, consarn it, I'm not a woman, am I? Look at my +whiskers, gee whiz! I—"</p> +<p>"I didn't say you left the baskit, Alf; I only said you'd +somethin' to do with it. I remember that there was a strong smell +of liquor around the place that night." In an instant Anderson was +sniffing the air. "Consarn ye, the same smell as now—yer +drunk."</p> +<p>"Tom Folly drinks, too," protested Alf. "He drinks Martini +cocktails."</p> +<p>"Don't you?"</p> +<p>"Not any more. The last time I ordered one was in a Dutch eatin' +house up to Boggs City. The waiter couldn't speak a word of +English, an' that's the reason I got so full. Every time I ordered +'dry Martini' he brought me three. He didn't know how to spell it. +No, sir, Anderson; I'm not the woman you want. I was at home asleep +that night. I remember jest as well as anything, that I said before +goin' to bed that it was a good night to sleep. I remember lookin' +at the kitchen clock an' seein' it was jest eighteen minutes after +eleven. 'Nen I said—"</p> +<p>"That'll be all for to-day, Alf," interrupted the questioner, +his gaze suddenly centering on something down the street. "You've +told me that six hundred times in the last twenty years. Come on, I +see the boys pitchin' horseshoes up by the blacksmith shop. I'll +pitch you a game fer the seegars."</p> +<p>"I cain't pay if I lose," protested Alf.</p> +<p>"I know it," said Anderson; "I don't expect you to."</p> +<p>The first day that Bonner drove over in the automobile, to +transplant Rosalie in the place across the river, found Anderson +full of a new and startling sensation. He stealthily drew the big +sunburnt young man into the stable, far from the house. Somehow, in +spite of his smiles, Bonner was looking older and more serious. +There was a set, determined expression about his mouth and eyes +that struck Anderson as new.</p> +<p>"Say, Wick," began the marshal mysteriously, "I'm up a +stump."</p> +<p>"What? Another?"</p> +<p>"No; jest the same one. I almost got track of somethin' +to-day—not two hours ago. I met a man out yander near the +cross-roads that I'm sure I seen aroun' here about the time Rosalie +was left on the porch. An' the funny part of it was, he stopped me +an' ast me about her. Doggone, I wish I'd ast him his name."</p> +<p>"You don't mean it!" cried Bonner, all interest. "Asked about +her? Was he a stranger?"</p> +<p>"I think he was. Leastwise, he said he hadn't been aroun' here +fer more'n twenty year. Y'see, it was this way. I was over to Lem +Hudlow's to ask if he had any hogs stole last night—Lem lives +nigh the poorhouse, you know. He said he hadn't missed any an' ast +me if any hogs had been found. I tole him no, not that I knowed of, +but I jest thought I'd ask; I thought mebby he'd had some stole. +You never c'n tell, you know, an' it pays to be attendin' to +business all the time. Well, I was drivin' back slow when up rode a +feller on horseback. He was a fine-lookin' man 'bout fifty year +old, I reckon, an' was dressed in all them new-fangled ridin' togs. +'Ain't this Mr. Crow, my old friend, the detective?' said he. 'Yes, +sir,' said I. 'I guess you don't remember me,' says he. I told him +I did, but I lied. It wouldn't do fer him to think I didn't know +him an' me a detective, don't y'see?</p> +<p>"We chatted about the weather an' the crops, him ridin' longside +the buckboard. Doggone, his face was familiar, but I couldn't place +it. Finally, he leaned over an' said, solemn-like: 'Have you still +got the little girl that was left on your porch?' You bet I jumped +when he said that. 'Yes,' says I, 'but she ain't a little girl now. +She's growed up.' 'Is she purty?' he ast. 'Yes,' says I, 'purty as +a speckled pup!' 'I'd like to see her,' he said. 'I hear she was a +beautiful baby. I hope she is very, very happy.' 'What's that to +you?' says I, sharp-like. 'I am very much interested in her, Mr. +Crow,' he answered. 'Poor child, I have had her in mind for a long +time,' he went on very solemn. I begin to suspect right away that +he had a lot to do with her affairs. Somehow, I couldn't help +thinkin' I'd seen him in Tinkletown about the time she was +dropped—left, I mean.</p> +<p>"'You have given her a good eddication, I hope,' said he. 'Yes, +she's got the best in town,' said I. 'The thousand dollars came all +right every year?' 'Every February.' 'I should like to see her +sometime, if I may, without her knowin' it, Mr. Crow.' 'An' why +that way, sir?' demanded I. 'It would probably annoy her if she +thought I was regardin' her as an object of curiosity,' said he. +'Tell her fer me,' he went on' gittin' ready to whip up, 'that she +has an unknown friend who would give anything he has to help her.' +Goshed, if he didn't put the gad to his horse an' gallop off 'fore +I could say another word. I was goin' to ask him a lot of +questions, too."</p> +<p>"Can't you remember where and under what circumstances you saw +him before?" cried Bonner, very much excited.</p> +<p>"I'm goin' to try to think it up to-night. He was a rich-lookin' +feller an' he had a heavy black band aroun' one of his coat +sleeves. Wick, I bet he's the man we want. I've made up my mind 'at +he's her father!"</p> +<p>Bonner impatiently wormed all the information possible out of +the marshal, especially as to the stranger's looks, voice, the +direction taken when they parted company and then dismally +concluded that an excellent opportunity had been hopelessly lost. +Anderson said, in cross-examination, that the stranger had told him +he "was leavin' at once fer New York and then going to Europe." His +mother had died recently.</p> +<p>"I'll try to head him off at Boggs City," said Bonner; and half +an hour later he was off at full speed in the big machine for the +county seat, a roundabout way to Bonner Place. The New York train +had gone, but no one had seen a man answering the description of +Anderson's interviewer.</p> +<p>"I'm sorry, Rosalie," said Bonner some time later. He was taking +her for a spin in the automobile. "It was a forlorn hope, and it is +also quite probable that Mr. Crow's impressions are wrong. The man +may have absolutely no connection with the matter. I'll admit it +looks interesting, his manner and his questions, and there is a +chance that he knows the true story. In any event, he did not go to +New York to-day and he can't get another train until to-morrow. +I'll pick up Mr. Crow in the morning and we'll run up here to have +a look at him if he appears."</p> +<p>"I think it is a wild goose chase, Wicker," Rosalie said +despairingly. "Daddy Crow has done such things before."</p> +<p>"But this seems different. The man's actions were curious. He +must have had some reason for being interested in you. I am +absolutely wild with eagerness to solve this mystery, Rosalie. It +means life to me."</p> +<p>"Oh, if you only could do it," she cried so fervently, that his +heart leaped with pity for her.</p> +<p>"I love you, Rosalie. I would give my whole life to make you +happy. Listen, dearest—don't turn away from me! Are you +afraid of me?" He was almost wailing it into her ear.</p> +<p>"I—I was only thinking of the danger, Wicker. You are not +watching the road," she said, flushing a deep red. He laughed gaily +for the first time in months.</p> +<p>"It is a wide road and clear," he said jubilantly. "We are alone +and we are merely drifting. The machine is alive with happiness. +Rosalie—Rosalie, I could shout for joy! You <i>do</i> love +me? You will be my wife?"</p> +<p>She was white and silent and faint with the joy of it all and +the pain of it all. Joy in the full knowledge that he loved her and +had spoken in spite of the cloud that enveloped her, pain in the +certainty that she could not accept the sacrifice. For a long time +she sat staring straight down the broad road over which they were +rolling.</p> +<p>"Wicker, you must not ask me now," she said at last, bravely and +earnestly. "It is sweet to know that you love me. It is life to +me—yes, life, Wicker. But, don't you see? No, no! You must +not expect it. You must not ask it. Don't, don't, dear!" she cried, +drawing away as he leaned toward her, passion in his eyes, triumph +in his face.</p> +<p>"But we love each other!" he cried. "What matters the rest? I +want you—<i>you!</i>"</p> +<p>"Have you considered? Have you thought? I have, a thousand +times, a thousand bitter thoughts. I cannot, I will not be +your—your wife, Wicker, until—"</p> +<p>In vain he argued, pleaded, commanded. She was firm and she felt +she was right if not just. Underneath it all lurked the fear, the +dreadful fear that she may have been a child of love, the +illegitimate offspring of passion. It was the weight that crushed +her almost to lifelessness; it was the bar sinister.</p> +<p>"No, Wicker, I mean it," she said in the end resolutely. "Not +until I can give you a name in exchange for your own."</p> +<p>"Your name shall one day be Bonner if I have to wreck the social +system of the whole universe to uncover another one for you."</p> +<p>The automobile had been standing, by some extraordinary chance, +in the cool shade of a great oak for ten minutes or more, but it +was a wise, discreet old oak.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +<h3><i>The Hemisphere Train Robbery</i></h3> +<p>Anderson Crow lived at the extreme south end of Tinkletown's +principal thoroughfare. The "calaboose" was situated at the far end +of Main Street, at least half a mile separating the home of the law +and the home of the lawless. Marshal Crow's innate love for the +spectacular alone explains the unneighbourliness of the two +establishments. He felt an inward glory in riding or walking the +full length of the street, and he certainly had no reason to +suspect the populace of disregarding the outward glory he +presented.</p> +<p>The original plan of the merchantry comprehended the erection of +the jail in close proximity to the home of its chief official, but +Mr. Crow put his foot flatly and ponderously upon the scheme. With +the dignity which made him noticeable, he said he'd "be doggoned ef +he wanted to have people come to his own dooryard to be arrested." +By which, it may be inferred, that he expected the evil-doer to +choose his own arresting place.</p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Crow were becoming thrifty, in view of the prospect +that confronted them, to wit: The possible marriage of Rosalie and +the cutting off of the yearly payments. As she was to be absent for +a full month or more, Anderson conceived the idea of advertising +for a lodger and boarder. By turning Roscoe out of his bed, they +obtained a spare room that looked down upon the peony beds beyond +the side "portico."</p> +<p>Mr. Crow was lazily twisting his meagre chin whiskers one +morning soon after Rosalie's departure. He was leaning against the +town pump in front of the post-office, the sun glancing impotently +off the bright badge on the lapel of his alpaca coat. A stranger +came forth from the post-office and approached the marshal.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/301.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Is this Mr. Crow?" he asked, with considerable deference.</p> +<p>"It is, sir."</p> +<p>"They tell me you take lodgers."</p> +<p>"Depends."</p> +<p>"My name is Gregory, Andrew Gregory, and I am here to canvass +the neighbourhood in the interest of the Human Life Insurance +Company of Penobscot. If you need references, I can procure them +from New York or Boston."</p> +<p>The stranger was a tall, lean-faced man of forty or forty-five, +well dressed, with a brusque yet pleasant manner of speech. His +moustache and beard were black and quite heavy. Mr. Crow eyed him +quietly for a moment.</p> +<p>"I don't reckon I'll ask fer references. Our rates are six +dollars a week, board an' room. Childern bother you?"</p> +<p>"Not at all. Have you any?"</p> +<p>"Some, more or less. They're mostly grown."</p> +<p>"I will take board and room for two weeks, at least," said Mr. +Gregory, who seemed to be a man of action.</p> +<p>For almost a week the insurance agent plied his vocation +assiduously but fruitlessly. The farmers and the citizens of +Tinkletown were slow to take up insurance. They would talk crops +and politics with the obliging Mr. Gregory, but that was all. And +yet, his suavity won for him many admirers. There were not a few +who promised to give him their insurance if they concluded to "take +any out." Only one man in town was willing to be insured, and he +was too old to be comforting. Mr. Calligan was reputed to be one +hundred and three years of age; and he wanted the twenty-year +endowment plan. Gregory popularised himself at the Crow home by +paying for his room in advance. Moreover, he was an affable chap +with a fund of good stories straight from Broadway. At the +post-office and in Lamson's store he was soon established as a +mighty favourite. Even the women who came to make purchases in the +evening,—a hitherto unknown custom,—lingered outside +the circle on the porch, revelling in the second edition of the +"Arabian Nights."</p> +<p>"Our friend, the detective here," he said, one night at the +close of the first week, "tells me that we are to have a show in +town next week. I haven't seen any posters."</p> +<p>"Mark Riley's been goin' to put up them bills sence day 'fore +yesterday," said Anderson Crow, with exasperation in his voice, "an +he ain't done it yet. The agent fer the troupe left 'em here an' +hired Mark, but he's so thunderation slow that he won't paste 'em +up 'til after the show's been an' gone. I'll give him a talkin' to +to-morrer."</p> +<p>"What-fer show is it?" asked Jim Borum.</p> +<p>"Somethin' like a circus on'y 'tain't one," said Anderson. "They +don't pertend to have animals."</p> +<p>"Don't carry a menagerie, I see," remarked Gregory.</p> +<p>"'Pears that way," said Anderson, slowly analysing the word.</p> +<p>"I understand it is a stage performance under a tent," +volunteered the postmaster.</p> +<p>"That's what it is," said Harry Squires, the editor, with a +superior air. "They play 'As You Like It,' by Shakespeare. It's a +swell show. We got out the hand bills over at the office. They'll +be distributed in town to-morrow, and a big batch of them will be +sent over to the summer places across the river. The advance agent +says it is a high-class performance and will appeal particularly to +the rich city people up in the mountains. It's a sort of open-air +affair, you know." And then Mr. Squires was obliged to explain to +his fellow-townsmen all the known details in connection with the +approaching performance of "As You Like It" by the Boothby Company, +set for Tinkletown on the following Thursday night. Hapgood's Grove +had been selected by the agent as the place in which the +performance should be given.</p> +<p>"Don't they give an afternoon show?" asked Mrs. Williams.</p> +<p>"Sure not," said Harry curtly. "It isn't a museum."</p> +<p>"Of course not," added Anderson Crow reflectively. "It's a +troupe."</p> +<p>The next morning, bright and early, Mark Riley fared forth with +paste and brush. Before noon, the board fences, barns and blank +walls of Tinkletown flamed with great red and blue letters, twining +in and about the portraits of Shakespeare, Manager Boothby, +Rosalind, Orlando, and an extra king or two in royal robes. A dozen +small boys spread the hand bills from the <i>Banner</i> presses, +and Tinkletown was stirred by the excitement of a sensation that +had not been experienced since Forepaugh's circus visited the +county seat three years before. It went without saying that Manager +Boothby would present "As You Like It" with an "unrivalled cast." +He had "an all-star production," direct from "the leading theatres +of the universe."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/305.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>When Mark Riley started out again in the afternoon for a second +excursion with paste and brush, "slapping up" small posters with a +celerity that bespoke extreme interest on his part, the astonished +populace feared that he was announcing a postponement of the +performance. Instead of that, however, he was heralding the fact +that the Hemisphere Trunk Line and Express Company would gladly pay +ten thousand dollars reward for the "apprehension and capture" of +the men who robbed one of its richest trains a few nights before, +seizing as booty over sixty thousand dollars in money, besides +killing two messengers in cold blood. The great train robbery +occurred in the western part of the State, hundreds of miles from +Tinkletown, but nearly all of its citizens had read accounts of the +deed in the weekly paper from Boggs City.</p> +<p>"I seen the item about it in Mr. Gregory's New York paper," said +Anderson Crow to the crowd at Lamson's.</p> +<p>"Gee whiz, it must 'a' been a peach!" said Isaac Porter, +open-mouthed and eager for details. Whereupon Marshal Crow related +the story of the crime which stupefied the world on the morning of +July 31st. The express had been held up in an isolated spot by a +half-dozen masked men. A safe had been shattered and the contents +confiscated, the perpetrators vanishing as completely as if aided +by Satan himself. The authorities were baffled. A huge reward was +offered in the hope that it might induce some discontented +underling in the band to expose his comrades.</p> +<p>"Are you goin' after 'em, Anderson?" asked old Mr. Borton, with +unfailing faith in the town's chief officer.</p> +<p>"Them fellers is in Asia by this time," vouchsafed Mr. Crow +scornfully, forgetting that less than a week had elapsed since the +robbery. He flecked a fly from his detective's badge and then +struck viciously at the same insect when it straightway attacked +his G.A.R. emblem.</p> +<p>"I doubt it," said Mr. Lamson. "Like as not they're right here +in this State, mebby in this county. You can't tell about them +slick desperadoes. Hello, Harry! Has anything more been heard from +the train robbers?" Harry Squires approached the group with +something like news in his face.</p> +<p>"I should say so," he said. "The darned cusses robbed the State +Express last night at Vanderskoop and got away with thirteen +hundred dollars. Say, they're wonders! The engineer says they're +only five of them."</p> +<p>"Why, gosh dern it, Vanderskoop's only the fourth station west +of Boggs City!" exclaimed Anderson Crow, pricking up his official +ear. "How in thunder do you reckon they got up here in such a short +time?"</p> +<p>"They probably stopped off on their way back from Asia," drily +remarked Mr. Lamson; but it passed unnoticed.</p> +<p>"Have you heard anything more about the show, Harry?" asked Jim +Borum. "Is she sure to be here?" What did Tinkletown care about the +train robbers when a "show" was headed that way?</p> +<p>"Sure. The press comments are very favourable," said Harry. +"They all say that Miss Marmaduke, who plays Rosalind, is great. +We've got a cut of her and, say, she's a beauty. I can see myself +sitting in the front row next Thursday night, good and proper."</p> +<p>"Say, Anderson, I think it's a dern shame fer Mark Riley to go +'round pastin' them reward bills over the show pictures," growled +Isaac Porter. "He ain't got a bit o' sense."</p> +<p>With one accord the crowd turned to inspect two adjacent bill +boards. Mark had either malignantly or insanely pasted the reward +notices over the nether extremities of Rosalind as she was expected +to appear in the Forest of Arden. There was a period of reflection +on the part of an outraged constituency.</p> +<p>"I don't see how he's goin' to remove off them reward bills +without scraping off her legs at the same time," mused Anderson +Crow in perplexity. Two housewives of Tinkletown suddenly deserted +the group and entered the store. And so it was that the train +robbers were forgotten for the time being.</p> +<p>But Marshal Crow's reputation as a horse-thief taker and general +suppressor of crime constantly upbraided him. It seemed to call +upon him to take steps toward the capture of the train robbers. All +that afternoon he reflected. Tinkletown, seeing his mood, refrained +from breaking in upon it. He was allowed to stroke his whiskers in +peace and to think to his heart's content. By nightfall his face +had become an inscrutable mask, and then it was known that the +President of Bramble County's Horse-Thief Detective Association was +determined to fathom the great problem. Stealthily he went up to +the great attic in his home and inspected his "disguises." In some +far-off period of his official career he had purchased the most +amazing collection of false beards, wigs and garments that any +stranded comedian ever disposed of at a sacrifice. He tried each +separate article, seeking for the best individual effect; then he +tried them collectively. It would certainly have been impossible to +recognise him as Anderson Crow. In truth, no one could safely have +identified him as a human being.</p> +<p>"I'm goin' after them raskils," he announced to Andrew Gregory +and the whole family, as he came down late to take his place at the +head of the supper table.</p> +<p>"Ain't you goin' to let 'em show here, pop?" asked Roscoe in +distress.</p> +<p>"Show here? What air you talkin' about?"</p> +<p>"He means the train robbers, Roscoe," explained the lad's +mother. The boy breathed again.</p> +<p>"They are a dangerous lot," volunteered Gregory, who had been in +Albany for two days. "The papers are full of their deeds. +Cutthroats of the worst character."</p> +<p>"I'd let them alone, Anderson," pleaded his wife. "If you corner +them, they'll shoot, and it would be jest like you to follow them +right into their lair."</p> +<p>"Consarn it, Eva, don't you s'pose that I c'n shoot, too?" +snorted Anderson. "What you reckon I've been keepin' them loaded +revolvers out in the barn all these years fer? Jest fer ornaments? +Not much! They're to shoot with, ef anybody asks you. Thunderation, +Mr. Gregory, you ain't no idee how a feller can be handicapped by a +timid wife an' a lot o' fool childern. I'm almost afeard to turn +'round fer fear they'll be skeered to death fer my safety."</p> +<p>"You cut yourself with a razor once when ma told you not to try +to shave the back of your neck by yourself," said one of the girls. +"She wanted you to let Mr. Beck shave it for you, but you wouldn't +have it that way."</p> +<p>"Do you suppose I want an undertaker shavin' my neck? I'm not +that anxious to be shaved. Beck's the undertaker, Mr. Gregory."</p> +<p>"Well, he runs the barber shop, too," insisted the girl.</p> +<p>During the next three days Tinkletown saw but little of its +marshal, fire chief and street commissioner. That triple personage +was off on business of great import. Early, each morning, he +mysteriously stole away to the woods, either up or down the river, +carrying a queer bundle under the seat of his "buckboard." Two +revolvers, neither of which had been discharged for ten years, +reposed in a box fastened to the dashboard. Anderson solemnly but +positively refused to allow any one to accompany him, nor would he +permit any one to question him. Farmers coming to town spoke of +seeing him in the lanes and in the woods, but he had winked +genially when they had asked what he was trailing.</p> +<p>"He's after the train robbers," explained all Tinkletown +soberly. Whereupon the farmers and their wives did not begrudge +Anderson Crow the chicken dinners he had eaten with them, nor did +they blame him for bothering the men in the fields. It was +sufficient that he found excuse to sleep in the shade of their +trees during his still hunt.</p> +<p>"Got any track of 'em?" asked George Ray one evening, stopping +at Anderson's back gate to watch the marshal unhitch his thankful +nag. Patience had ceased to be a virtue with George.</p> +<p>"Any track of who?" asked Mr. Crow with a fine show of +innocence.</p> +<p>"The robbers."</p> +<p>"I ain't been trackin' robbers, George."</p> +<p>"What in thunder have you been trackin' all over the country +every day, then?"</p> +<p>"I'm breakin' this colt," calmly replied the marshal, with a +mighty wink at old Betty, whom he had driven to the same buckboard +for twenty years. As George departed with an insulted snort, Andrew +Gregory came from the barn, where he had been awaiting the return +of Mr. Crow."</p> +<p>"I'm next to something big," he announced in a low tone, first +looking in all directions to see that no one was listening.</p> +<p>"Gosh! Did you land Mr. Farnsworth?"</p> +<p>"It has nothing to do with insurance," hastily explained the +agent. "I've heard something of vast importance to you."</p> +<p>"You don't mean to say the troupe has busted?"</p> +<p>"No—no; it is in connection with—with—" and +here Mr. Gregory leaned forward and whispered something in +Anderson's ear. Mr. Crow promptly stopped dead still in his tracks, +his eyes bulging. Betty, who was being led to the water trough, +being blind and having no command to halt, proceeded to bump +forcibly against her master's frame.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> +<h3>"<i>As You Like It</i>"</h3> +<p>"You—don't—say—so! Whoa! dang ye! Cain't you +see where you're goin', you old rip?" Betty was jerked to a +standstill. "What have you heerd?" asked Anderson, his voice +shaking with interest.</p> +<p>"I can't tell you out here," said the other cautiously. "Put up +the nag and then meet me in the pasture out there. We can sit down +and talk and not be overheard."</p> +<p>"I won't be a minute. Here, you Roscoe! Feed Betty and water her +first. Step lively, now. Tell your ma we'll be in to supper when we +git good an' ready."</p> +<p>Anderson and Andrew Gregory strode through the pasture gate and +far out into the green meadow. Once entirely out of hearing, +Gregory stopped and both sat down upon a little hillock. The agent +was evidently suppressing considerable excitement.</p> +<p>"Those train robbers are in this neighbourhood," he said, +breaking a long silence. Anderson looked behind involuntarily. "I +don't mean that they are in this pasture, Mr. Crow. You've been a +good friend to me, and I'm inclined to share the secret with you. +If we go together, we may divide the ten-thousand-dollar reward, +because I'm quite sure we can land those chaps."</p> +<p>"What's your plan?" asked Anderson, turning a little pale at the +thought. Before going any further into the matter, Gregory asked +Anderson if he would sign a paper agreeing to divide the reward +equally with him. This point was easily settled, and then the +insurance man unfolded his secret.</p> +<p>"I have a straight tip from a friend in New York and he wouldn't +steer me wrong. The truth about him is this: He used to work for +our company, but took some money that didn't belong to him. It got +him a sentence in the pen. He's just out, and he knows a whole lot +about these robbers. Some of them were in Sing Sing with him. The +leader wanted him to join the gang and he half-way consented. His +duty is to keep the gang posted on what the officers in New York +are doing. See?"</p> +<p>"Of course," breathed Anderson.</p> +<p>"Well, my friend wants to reform. All he asks is a slice of the +reward. If we capture the gang, we can afford to give him a +thousand or so, can't we?"</p> +<p>"Of course," was the dignified response.</p> +<p>"Here's his letter to me. I'll read it to you." In the gathering +dusk Gregory read the letter to the marshal of Tinkletown. "Now, +you see," he said, at the close of the astounding epistle, "this +means that if we observe strict secrecy, we may have the game in +our hands. No one must hear a word of this. They may have spies +right here in Tinkletown. We can succeed only by keeping our mouths +sealed."</p> +<p>"Tighter'n beeswax," promised Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>Briefly, the letter to Andrew Gregory was an exposure of the +plans of the great train-robber gang, together with their +whereabouts on a certain day to come. They were to swoop down on +Tinkletown on the night of the open-air performance of "As You Like +It," and their most desperate coup was to be the result. The scheme +was to hold up and rob the entire audience while the performance +was going on. Anderson Crow was in a cold perspiration. The +performance was but three days off, and he felt that he required +three months for preparation.</p> +<p>"How in thunder are we goin' to capture that awful gang, jest +you an' me?" he asked, voicing his doubts and fears.</p> +<p>"We'll have to engage help, that's all."</p> +<p>"We'll need a regiment."</p> +<p>"Don't you think it. Buck up, old fellow, don't be afraid."</p> +<p>"Afeerd? Me? I don't know what it is to be skeered. Didn't you +ever hear about how I landed them fellers that kidnaped my daughter +Rosalie? Well, you jest ast some one 'at knows about it. Umph! I +guess that was a recommend fer bravery. But these fellers will be +ready fer us, won't they?"</p> +<p>"We can trick them easily. I've been thinking of a plan all +afternoon. We don't know just where they are now, so we can't rake +them in to-night. We'll have to wait until they come to us. My plan +is to have a half-dozen competent private detectives up from New +York. We can scatter them through the audience next Thursday night, +and when the right time comes we can land on every one of those +fellows like hawks on spring chickens. I know the chief of a big +private agency in New York, and I think the best plan is to have +him send up some good men. It won't cost much, and I'd rather have +those fearless practical men here than all the rubes you could +deputise. One of 'em is worth ten of your fellow-citizens, Mr. +Crow, begging your pardon for the remark. You and I can keep the +secret and we can do the right thing, but we would be asses to take +more Tinkletown asses into our confidence. If you'll agree, I'll +write to Mr. Pinkerton this evening. He can have his men here, +disguised and ready for work, by Thursday afternoon. If you don't +mind, I'd like to have you take charge of the affair, because you +know just how to handle thieves, and I don't. What say you?"</p> +<p>Anderson was ready and eager to agree to anything, but he +hesitated a long time before concluding to take supreme charge of +the undertaking. Mr. Gregory at once implored him to take command. +It meant the success of the venture; anything else meant +failure.</p> +<p>"But how'n thunder am I to know the robbers when I see 'em?" +demanded the marshal, nervously pulling bluegrass up by the +roots.</p> +<p>"You'll know 'em all right," said Andrew Gregory. Thursday came +and with it the "troupe." Anderson Crow had not slept for three +nights, he was so full of thrills and responsibility. Bright and +early that morning he was on the lookout for suspicious characters. +Gregory was to meet the detectives from New York at half-past seven +in the evening. By previous arrangement, these strangers were to +congregate casually at Tinkletown Inn, perfectly diguised as +gentlemen, ready for instructions. The two arch-plotters had +carefully devised a plan of action. Gregory chuckled secretly when +he thought of the sensation Tinkletown was to experience—and +he thought of it often, too.</p> +<p>The leading members of Boothby's All Star Company "put up" at +the Inn, which was so humble that it staggered beneath this +unaccustomed weight of dignity. The beautiful Miss Marmaduke (in +reality, Miss Cora Miller) was there, and so were Miss Trevanian, +Miss Gladys Fitzmaurice, Richmond Barrett (privately Jackie Blake), +Thomas J. Booth, Francisco Irving, Ben Jefferson and others. The +Inn was glorified. All Tinkletown looked upon the despised old +"eating house" with a reverence that was not reluctant.</p> +<p>The manager, a busy and preoccupied person, who looked to be the +lowliest hireling in the party, came to the Inn at noon and spread +the news that the reserved seats were sold out and there was +promise of a fine crowd. Whereupon there was rejoicing among the +All Star Cast, for the last legs of the enterprise were to be +materially strengthened.</p> +<p>"We won't have to walk back home," announced Mr. Jackie Blake, +that good-looking young chap who played Orlando.</p> +<p>"Glorious Shakespeare, thou art come to life again," said Ben +Jefferson, a barn-stormer for fifty years. "I was beginning to +think you were a dead one."</p> +<p>"And no one will seize our trunks for board," added Miss +Marmaduke cheerfully. She was a very pretty young woman and +desperately in love with Mr. Orlando.</p> +<p>"If any one seized Orlando's trunks, I couldn't appear in public +to-night," said Mr. Blake. "Orlando possesses but one pair of +trunks."</p> +<p>"You might wear a mackintosh," suggested Mr. Booth.</p> +<p>"Or borrow trunks of the trees," added Mr. Irving.</p> +<p>"They're off," growled Mr. Jefferson, who hated the puns he did +not make.</p> +<p>"Let's dazzle the town, Cora," said Jackie Blake; and before +Tinkletown could take its second gasp for breath, the leading man +and woman were slowly promenading the chief and only +thoroughfare.</p> +<p>"By ginger! she's a purty one, ain't she?" murmured Ed Higgins, +sole clerk at Lamson's. He stood in the doorway until she was out +of sight and remained there for nearly an hour awaiting her return. +The men of Tinkletown took but one look at the pretty young woman, +but that one look was continuous and unbroken.</p> +<p>"If this jay town can turn up enough money to-night to keep us +from stranding, I'll take off my hat to it for ever more," said +Jackie Blake.</p> +<p>"Boothby says the house is sold out," said</p> +<p>Miss Marmaduke, a shade of anxiety in her dark eyes. "Oh, how I +wish we were at home again."</p> +<p>"I'd rather starve in New York than feast in the high hills," +said he wistfully. The idols to whom Tinkletown was paying homage +were but human, after all. For two months the Boothby Company had +been buffeted from pillar to post, struggling hard to keep its head +above water, always expecting the crash. The "all-stars" were no +more than striving young Thespians, who were kept playing +throughout the heated term with this uncertain enterprise, solely +because necessity was in command of their destinies. It was not for +them to enjoy a summer in ease and indolence.</p> +<p>"Never mind, dear," said she, turning her green parasol so that +it obstructed the intense but complimentary gaze of no less than a +dozen men; "our luck will change. We won't be barn-storming for +ever."</p> +<p>"We've one thing to be thankful for, little woman," said Jackie, +his face brightening. "We go out again this fall in the same +company. That's luck, isn't it? We'll be married as soon as we get +back to New York and we won't have to be separated for a whole +season, at least."</p> +<p>"Isn't it dear to think of, Jackie sweetheart? A whole season +and then another, and then all of them after that? Oh, dear, won't +it be sweet?" It was love's young dream for both of them.</p> +<p>"Hello, what's this?" exclaimed Orlando the Thousandth, pausing +before a placard which covered the lower limbs of his pictorial +partner. "Ten Thousand Dollars reward! Great Scott, Cora, wouldn't +I like to catch those fellows? Great, eh? But it's a desperate +gang! The worst ever!"</p> +<p>Just then both became conscious of the fact that some one was +scrutinising them intently from behind. They turned and beheld +Anderson Crow, his badges glistening.</p> +<p>"How are you, officer?" said Jackie cheerily. Miss Marmaduke, in +her happiness, beamed a smile upon the austere man with the chin +whiskers. Anderson was past seventy, but that smile caused the +intake of his breath to almost lift him from the ground.</p> +<p>"First rate, thanks; how's yourself? Readin' the reward notice? +Lemme tell you something. There's goin' to be somethin' happen +tarnation soon that will astonish them fellers ef—" but here +Anderson pulled up with a jerk, realising that he was on the point +of betraying a great secret. Afraid to trust himself in continued +conversation, he abruptly said: "Good afternoon," and started off +down the street, his ears tingling.</p> +<p>"Queer old chap, isn't he?" observed Jackie, and immediately +forgot him as they strolled onward.</p> +<p>That evening Tinkletown swarmed with strangers. The weather was +fine, and scores of the summer dwellers in the hills across the +river came over to see the performance, as the advance agent had +predicted. Bluff Top Hotel sent a large delegation of people +seeking the variety of life. There were automobiles, traps, +victorias, hay-racks, and "sundowns" standing all along the street +in the vicinity of Hapgood's Grove. It was to be, in the expansive +language of the press agent, "a cultured audience made up of the +élite of the community."</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon, a paralysing thought struck in upon the +marshal's brain. It occurred to him that this band of robbers might +also be engaged to carry off Rosalie Gray. After all, it might be +the great dominant reason for their descent upon the community. +Covered with a perspiration that was not caused by heat, he +accosted Wicker Bonner, the minute that gentleman arrived in town. +Rosalie went, of course, to the Crow home for a short visit with +the family.</p> +<p>"Say, Wick, I want you to do me a favour," said Anderson +eagerly, taking the young man aside. "I cain't tell you all about +it, 'cause I'm bound by a deathless oath. But, listen, I'm afraid +somethin's goin' to happen to-night. There's a lot o' strangers +here, an' I'm nervous about Rosalie. Somebody might try to steal +her in the excitement. Now I want you to take good keer of her. +Don't let 'er out o' your sight, an' don't let anybody git 'er away +from you. I'll keep my eye on her, too. Promise me."</p> +<p>"Certainly, Mr. Crow. I'll look out for her. That's what I hope +to do all the rest of—'</p> +<p>"Somethin's liable to happen," Mr. Crow broke in, and then +quietly slipped away.</p> +<p>Bonner laughed easily at the old man's fears and set them down +as a part of his whimsical nature. Later, he saw the old man near +the entrance as the party passed inside the inclosure. The Bonner +party occupied prominent seats in front, reserved by the marshal. +There were ten in the group, a half-dozen young Boston people +completing the house party.</p> +<p>The side walls of a pavilion inclosed the most beautiful section +of the grove. In one end were the seats, rapidly filling with +people. At the opposite end, upon Mother Earth's green carpet, was +the stage, lighted dimly by means of subdued spot lights and a few +auxiliary stars on high. There was no scenery save that provided by +Nature herself. An orchestra of violins broke through the constant +hum of eager voices.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/321.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Anderson Crow's heart was inside the charmed inclosure, but his +person was elsewhere. Simultaneously, with the beginning of the +performance of "As You like It," he was in his own barn-loft +confronting Andrew Gregory and the five bewhiskered assistants from +New York City. Gregory had met the detectives at the Inn and had +guided them to the marshal's barn, where final instructions were to +be given. For half an hour the party discussed plans with Anderson +Crow, speaking in low, mysterious tones that rang in the marshal's +ears to his dying day.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/322.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"We've located those fellows," asserted Mr. Gregory firmly. +"There can be no mistake. They are already in the audience over +there, and at a signal will set to work to hold up the whole crowd. +We must get the drop on them, Mr. Crow. Don't do that! You don't +need a disguise. Keep those yellow whiskers in your pocket. The +rest of us will wear disguises. These men came here disguised +because the robbers would be onto them in a minute if they didn't. +They know every detective's face in the land. If it were not for +these beards and wigs they'd have spotted Pinkerton's men long ago. +Now, you know your part in the affair, don't you?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," respectfully responded Anderson, his chin whisker +wobbling pathetically.</p> +<p>"Then we're ready to proceed. It takes a little nerve, that's +all, but we'll soon have those robbers just where we want them," +said Andrew Gregory.</p> +<p>The second act of the play was fairly well under way when +Orlando, in the "green room," remarked to the stage director:</p> +<p>"What's that old rube doing back here, Ramsay? Why, hang it, +man, he's carrying a couple of guns. Is this a hold-up?" At the +same instant Rosalind and two of the women came rushing from their +dressing tent, alarmed and indignant. Miss Marmaduke, her eyes +blazing, confronted the stage director.</p> +<p>"What does this mean, Mr. Ramsay?" she cried. "That old man +ordered us out of our dressing-room at the point of a revolver, +and—see! There he is now doing the same to the men."</p> +<p>It was true. Anderson Crow, with a brace of horse pistols, was +driving the players toward the centre of the stage. In a tremulous +voice he commanded them to remain there and take the consequences. +A moment later the marshal of Tinkletown strode into the limelight +with his arsenal, facing an astonished and temporarily amused +audience. His voice, pitched high with excitement, reached to the +remotest corners of the inclosure. Behind him the players were +looking on, open-mouthed and bewildered. To them he loomed up as +the long-dreaded constable detailed to attach their personal +effects. The audience, if at first it laughed at him as a joke, +soon changed its view. Commotion followed his opening speech.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER +XXXII</h2> +<h3><i>The Luck of Anderson Crow</i></h3> +<p>"Don't anybody attempt to leave this tent!" commanded Mr. Crow, +standing bravely forth with his levelled revolvers. The orchestra +made itself as small as possible, for one of the guns wavered +dangerously. "Don't be alarmed, ladies and gentlemen. The train +robbers are among you."</p> +<p>There were a few feminine shrieks, a volume of masculine +"Whats!" a half-hearted and uncertain snigger, and a general +turning of heads.</p> +<p>"Keep your seats!" commanded Anderson. "They can't escape. I +have them surrounded. I now call upon all robbers present to +surrender in the name of the law. Surrender peaceful and you will +not he damaged; resist and we'll blow you to hell an' gone, even at +the risk of injurin' the women and childern. The law is no +respecter of persons. Throw up your hands!"</p> +<p>He waited impressively, but either through stupefaction or +obstinacy the robbers failed to lift their hands.</p> +<p>"You're cornered, you golderned scamps!" shouted Anderson Crow, +"an' you might jest as well give up! Twenty Pinkerton men are here +from New York City, an' you can't escape! Throw up your hands!"</p> +<p>"The damned old fool is in earnest," gasped Judge Brewster, from +across the river.</p> +<p>"He's crazy!" cried Congressman Bonner.</p> +<p>"Let everybody in this crowd throw up their hands!" called a +firm, clear voice from the entrance. At the same instant five +bewhiskered individuals appeared as if by magic with drawn +revolvers, dominating the situation completely. The speaker was +Andrew Gregory, the insurance agent.</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/325.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"Now, what have you got to say?" cried Anderson gaily. "I guess +me an' the detectives have you cornered all right, ain't we?"</p> +<p>The audience sat stupefied, paralysed. While all this was going +on upon the inside, a single detective on the outside was +stealthily puncturing the tires of every automobile in the +collection, Mr. Bracken's huge touring car being excepted for +reasons to be seen later on.</p> +<p>"Good heavens!" groaned old Judge Brewster. A half dozen women +fainted and a hundred men broke into a cold perspiration.</p> +<p>"Hands up, everybody!" commanded Andrew Gregory. "We can take no +chances. The train robbers are in this audience. They came to hold +up the entire crowd, but we are too quick for you, my fine birds. +The place is surrounded!"</p> +<p>"Mr. Gregory, the insurance—" began Anderson Crow, but he +was cut short.</p> +<p>"Mr. Crow deserves great credit for this piece of detective +work. His mere presence is a guaranty of safety to those of you who +are not thieves. You all have your hands up? Thanks. Mr. Crow, +please keep those actors quiet. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is +not always an easy matter to distinguish thieves from honest men. I +will first give the desperadoes a chance to surrender peaceably. No +one steps forward? Very well. Keep your hands up, all of you. The +man who lowers his hands will be instantly regarded as a desperado +and may get a bullet in his body for his folly. The innocent must +suffer with the guilty. Mr. Crow, shall we proceed with the +search?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; go right ahead, and be quick," replied Anderson +Crow.</p> +<p>"Very well, then, in the name of the law, my men will begin the +search. They will pass among you, ladies and gentlemen, and any +effort to retard their progress will be met with +instant—well, you know."</p> +<p>Before the petrified audience could fully realise what was +taking place, three of the detectives were swiftly passing from +person to person, stripping the women of their jewels, the men of +their money and their watches. A half-hearted protest went up to +Anderson Crow, but it was checked summarily by the "searching +party." It was well for the poor marshal that he never knew what +the audience thought of him at that ghastly moment.</p> +<p>It was all over in five minutes. The detectives had searched +every prosperous-looking person in the audience, under the very +nose and guns of Marshal Crow, and they were sardonically bidding +the assemblage a fond good-bye from the flapping doorway in the +side wall. Andrew Gregory addressed the crowd, smiling broadly.</p> +<p>"We found a good many more robbers in the crowd than we could +conveniently handle, ladies and gentlemen. In fact, I never came +across such a rare collection of hold-up men outside of Wall +Street. The only perfectly honest man in Tinkletown to-night is +Anderson Crow, your esteemed marshal. Believe me, he is +ridiculously honest. He may be a damn fool, but he is honest. Don't +blame him. Thanking you, one and all, for your generous help in our +search for the train robbers, we bid you an affectionate farewell. +We may meet again if you travel extensively on express trains. +Good-night!"</p> +<p>With a taunting laugh, Andrew Gregory dropped the flap and +leaped after his companions. Bracken's chauffeur lay senseless by +the roadside, and one of the "detectives" sat in his seat. Even as +the audience opened its collective mouth to shout its wrath and +surprise, the big touring car, with six armed men aboard, leaped +away with a rush. Down the dark road it flew like an express train, +its own noise drowning the shouts of the multitude, far behind.</p> +<p>Bonner, recovering from his stupefaction and rage, led the +pursuit, first commanding Rosalie to hurry home with the women and +lock herself safely indoors.</p> +<p>Anderson Crow, realising what a dupe he had been in the hands of +the clever scoundrels, was covered with fear and shame. The +outraged crowd might have killed him had not his escape been made +under cover of darkness. Shivering and moaning in abject misery, +the pride of Tinkletown fled unseeing, unthinking into the forest +along the river. He was not to know until afterward that his +"detectives" had stripped the rich sojourners of at least ten +thousand dollars in money and jewels. It is not necessary to say +that the performance of "As You Like It" came to an abrupt end, +because it was not as they liked it. Everybody knew by this time +that they had seen the celebrated "train robbers."</p> +<p>Jackie Blake was half dressed when he leaped to his feet with an +exclamation so loud that those preceding it were whispers.</p> +<p>"Holy smoke!" fell from his lips; and then he dashed across the +green to the women's dressing tent. "Cora! Cora! Come out!"</p> +<p>"I can't," came back in muffled tones.</p> +<p>"Then good-bye; I'm off!" he shouted. That brought her, +partially dressed, from the tent. "Say, do you remember the river +road we walked over to-day? Well, those fellows went in that +direction, didn't they? Don't you see? Aren't you on? The washout! +If they don't know about it the whole bunch is at the bottom of the +ravine or in the river by this time! Mum's the word! There's a +chance, darling; the reward said 'dead or alive!' I'm off!"</p> +<p>She tried to call him back, but it was too late. With his own +revolver in his hand, the half Orlando, half Blake, tore down the +rarely travelled river road south. Behind him Tinkletown raved and +wailed over the great calamity, but generally stood impotent in the +face of it all. But few felt inclined to pursue the robbers. Blake +soon had the race to himself. It was a mile or more to the washout +in the road, but the excitement made him keen for the test. The +road ran through the woods and along the high bluff that overlooked +the river. He did not know it, but this same road was a "short cut" +to the macadam pike farther south. By taking this route the robbers +gave Boggs City a wide berth.</p> +<p>Blake's mind was full of the possibilities of disaster to the +over-confident fugitives. The washout was fresh, and he was +counting on the chance that they were not aware of its existence. +If they struck it even at half speed the whole party would be +hurled a hundred feet down to the edge of the river or into the +current itself. In that event, some, if not all, would be seriously +injured.</p> +<p>As he neared the turn in the road, his course pointed out to him +by the stars above, he was startled half out of his boots by the +sudden appearance of a man, who staggered from the roadside and +wobbled painfully away, pleading for mercy.</p> +<p>"Halt, or I'll shoot!" called Jackie Blake, and the pathetic +figure not only halted, but sat down in the middle of the road.</p> +<p>"For the Lord's sake, don't shoot!" groaned a hoarse voice. "I +wasn't in cahoots with them. They fooled me—they fooled me." +It was Anderson Crow, and he would have gone on interminably had +not Jackie Blake stopped him short.</p> +<p>"You're the marshal, eh? The darned rube—"</p> +<p>"Yes, I'm him. Call me anything, only don't shoot. Who are you?" +groaned Anderson, rising to his knees. He was holding his revolvers +by the muzzles. "Never mind who I am. I haven't time. Say, you'd +better come with me. Maybe we can head off those villains. They +came this way and—"</p> +<p>"Show 'em to me," roared Anderson, recognising a friend. Rage +surged up and drove out the shame in his soul. "I'll tackle the +hull caboodle, dang 'em!" And he meant it, too.</p> +<p>Blake did not stop to explain, but started on, commanding Mr. +Crow to follow. With rare fore-thought the marshal donned his +yellow beard as he panted in the trail of the lithe young actor. +The latter remembered that the odds were heavily against him. The +marshal might prove a valuable aid in case of resistance, provided, +of course, that they came upon the robbers in the plight he was +hoping for.</p> +<p>"Where the dickens are you a-goin'?" wheezed the marshal, +kicking up a great dust in the rear. The other did not answer. His +whole soul was enveloped in the hope that the washout had trapped +the robbers. He was almost praying that it might be so. The reward +could be divided with the poor old marshal if—</p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/331.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>He gave a yell of delight, an instant later, and then began +jumping straight up and down like one demented. Anderson Crow +stopped so abruptly that his knees were stiff for weeks. Jackie +Blake's wild dream had come true. The huge automobile had struck +the washout, and it was now lying at the base of the bluff, smashed +to pieces on the rocks! By the dim light from the heavens, Blake +could see the black hulk down there, but it was too dark to +distinguish other objects. He was about to descend to the river +bank when Anderson Crow came up.</p> +<p>"What's the matter, man?" panted he.</p> +<p>"They're down there, don't you see it? They went over the bluff +right here—come on. We've got 'em!"</p> +<p>"Hold on!" exclaimed Anderson, grasping his arm. "Don't rush +down there like a danged fool. If they're alive they can plug you +full of bullets in no time. Let's be careful."</p> +<p>"By thunder, you're right. You're a wise old owl, after all. I +never thought of that. Let's reconnoitre."</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/332.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>Tingling with excitement, the two oddly mated pursuers descended +stealthily by a roundabout way. They climbed over rocks and crept +through underbrush until finally they came to a clear spot not +twenty feet from where the great machine was lying, at the very +edge of the swift, deep current. They heard groans and faint cries, +with now and then a piteous oath. From their hiding place they +counted the forms of four men lying upon the rocks, as if dead. The +two held a whispered consultation of war, a plan of action +resulting.</p> +<p>"Surrender!" shouted Jackie Blake, standing forth. He and +Anderson had their pistols levelled upon the prostrate robbers. For +answer there were louder groans, a fiercer oath or two and then a +weak, pain-struck voice came out to them:</p> +<p>"For God's sake, get this machine off my legs. I'm dying. Help! +Help! We surrender!"</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, the jubilant captors had released the +miserable Andrew Gregory from his position beneath the machine, and +had successfully bound the hands and feet of five half-unconscious +men. Gregory's legs were crushed and one other's skull was cracked. +The sixth man was nowhere to be found. The disaster had been +complete, the downfall of the great train robbers inglorious. +Looking up into the face of Anderson Crow, Gregory smiled through +his pain and said hoarsely:</p> +<p>"Damned rotten luck; but if we had to be taken, I'm glad you did +it, Crow. You're a good fool, anyway. But for God's sake, get me to +a doctor."</p> +<p>"Dang it! I'm sorry fer you, Mr. Gregory—" began Anderson, +ready to cry.</p> +<p>"Don't waste your time, old man. I need the doctor. Are the +others dead?" he groaned.</p> +<p>"I don't know," replied Jackie Blake. "Some of them look like +it. We can't carry you up that hill, but we'll do the next best +thing. Marshal, I'll stay here and guard the prisoners while you +run to the village for help—and doctors."</p> +<p>"And run fast, Anderson," added Gregory. "You always were so +devilish slow. Don't walk-trot."</p> +<p>Soon afterward, when Anderson, fagged but overjoyed, hobbled +into the village, the excited crowd was ready to lynch him, but +with his first words the atmosphere changed.</p> +<p>"Where is Jackie Blake?" sobbed a pretty young woman, grasping +the proud marshal's arm and shaking him violently.</p> +<p>"Derned if I know, ma'am. Was he stole?"</p> +<p>She made him understand, and together, followed by the actors, +the audience and the whole town, they led the way to the washout, +the fair Rosalind dragging the overworked hero of the hour along at +a gait which threatened to be his undoing.</p> +<p>Later on, after the five bandits had been carried to the +village, Jackie Blake gladly informed his sweetheart that they +could have easy sailing with the seven thousand dollars he +expected. Anderson Crow had agreed to take but three thousand +dollars for his share in the capture. One of the robbers was dead. +The body of the sixth was found in the river weeks afterward.</p> +<p>"I'm glad I was the first on the ground," said Blake, in +anticipation of the reward which was eventually to be handed over +to him. "But Anderson Crow turned out to be a regular trump, after +all. He's a corker!" He was speaking to Wicker Bonner and a crowd +of New Yorkers.</p> +<p>Tinkletown began to talk of a monument to Anderson Crow, even +while he lived. The general opinion was that it should be erected +while he was still able to enjoy it and not after his death, when +he would not know anything about its size and cost.</p> +<p>"By gosh! 'Twas a great capture!" swelling perceptibly. "I +knowed they couldn't escape me. Dang 'em! they didn't figger on me, +did they? Pshaw! it was reediculus of 'em to think they c'd fool me +entirely, although I'll have to confess they did fool me at first. +It was a desprit gang an' mighty slick."</p> +<p>"You worked it great, Anderson," said George Ray. "Did you know +about the washout?"</p> +<p>"Did I know about it?" snorted Anderson witheringly. "Why, good +Gosh a'mighty, didn't I purty near run my legs off to git there in +time to throw down the barricade before they could get there with +Mr. Bracken's automobile? Thunderation! What a fool question!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER +XXXIII</h2> +<h3><i>Bill Briggs Tells a Tale</i></h3> +<p>Tinkletown fairly bubbled with excitement. At last the eyes of +the world were upon it. News of the great sensation was flashed to +the end of the earth; every detail was gone into with harrowing +minuteness. The Hemisphere Company announced by telegraph that it +stood ready to hand over the ten thousand dollars; and the sheriff +of Bramble County with all the United States deputy marshals within +reach raced at once to Tinkletown to stick a finger in the pie.</p> +<p>The morning after the "great pavilion robbery," as it was called +in the <i>Banner</i>, Anderson Crow and Bonner fared forth early to +have a look at the injured desperadoes, all of whom were safely +under guard at the reincarnated calaboose. Fifty armed men had +stood guard all night long, notwithstanding the fact that one +robber was dead and the others so badly injured that they were not +expected to survive the day.</p> +<p>A horseman passed the marshal and his friend near the +post-office, riding rapidly to the north. He waved his crop +pleasantly to them and Bonner responded. Anderson stopped stock +still and tried to speak, but did not succeed for a full minute; he +was dumb with excitement.</p> +<p>"That's him!" he managed to gasp. "The feller I saw the other +day—the man on horseback!"</p> +<p>"That?" cried Bonner, laughing heartily. "Why, that is John E. +Barnes, the lawyer and probably a United States Senator some day. +Good heavens, Mr. Crow, you've made a bad guess of it this time! He +is staying with Judge Brewster, his father-in-law."</p> +<p>"What! Well, by Geminy! I thought I knowed him," cried Anderson. +"They cain't fool me long, Wick—none of 'em. He's the same +feller 'at run away with Judge Brewster's daughter more'n twenty +year ago. 'y Gosh, I was standin' right on this very spot the first +time I ever see him. He sold me a hoss and buggy—but I got +the money back. I arrested him the same day."</p> +<p>"Arrested John Barnes?" in amazement.</p> +<p>"Yep—fer murder—only he wasn't the murderer. We +follered him down the river—him an' the girl—to +Bracken's place, but they were married afore we got there. Doggone, +that was a busy day! Some blamed good detective work was did, too. +I—"</p> +<p>"And Mr. Barnes was interested in Rosalie?" asked Bonner +suddenly. "How could he have known anything about her?"</p> +<p>"That's what puzzles me. She came here about two years after the +elopement more er less, but I don't remember ever seein' him after +that time."</p> +<p>"It's very strange, Mr. Crow," reflected Bonner soberly. "He has +a son, I know. His wife died a year or so after the boy's birth. +Young Barnes is about twenty-one, I think at this time. By George! +I've heard it said that Barnes and his wife were not hitting it off +very well. They say she died of a broken heart. I've heard mother +speak of it often. I wonder—great heavens, it isn't possible +that Rosalie can be connected in any way with John Barnes? Anderson +Crow, I—I wonder if there is a possibility?" Bonner was +quivering with excitement, wonder—and—unbelief.</p> +<p>"I'm workin' on that clew," said Anderson as calmly as his +tremors would permit. He was thrilled by the mere suggestion, but +it was second nature for him to act as if every discovery were his +own. "Ever sence I saw him on the road up there, I've been trackin' +him. I tell you, Wick, he's my man. I've got it almost worked out. +Just as soon as these blamed robbers are moved to Boggs City, er +buried, I'm goin' over an' git the truth out of Mr. Barnes. I've +been huntin' him fer twenty-one years." Anderson, of course, was +forgetting that Barnes had slipped from his mind completely until +Bonner nudged his memory into life.</p> +<p>"It's a delicate matter, Mr. Crow. We must go about it +carefully," said Bonner severely. "If Mr. Barnes is really +interested in her, we can't find it out by blundering; if he is not +interested, we can't afford to drag him into it. It will require +tact—"</p> +<p>"Thunderation, don't you suppose I know that?" exploded +Anderson. "Detectives are allers tackin'. They got to, y' see, ef +they're goin' to foller half a dozen clews at oncet. Gee whiz, +Wick, leave this thing to me! I'll git at the bottom of it inside +o' no time."</p> +<p>"Wait a few days, Mr. Crow," argued Bonner, playing for time. +"Don't hurry. We've got all we can do now to take care of the +fellows you and that young actor captured last night." The young +man's plan was to keep Anderson off the trail entirely and give the +seemingly impossible clew into the possession of the New York +bureau.</p> +<p>"I don't know what I'd 'a' done ef it hadn't been fer that young +feller," said the marshal. "He was right smart help to me last +night." Bonner, who knew the true story, suppressed a smile and +loved the old man none the less for his mild deception.</p> +<p>They entered the "calaboose," which now had all the looks and +odours of a hospital. A half-dozen doctors had made the four +injured men as comfortable as possible. They were stretched on +mattresses in the jail dining-room, guarded by a curious horde of +citizens.</p> +<p>"That's Gregory!" whispered Anderson, as they neared the +suffering group. He pointed to the most distant cot. "That's jest +the way he swore last night. He must 'a' shaved in the automobile +last night," though Gregory had merely discarded the false whiskers +he had worn for days.</p> +<p>"Wait!" exclaimed Bonner, stopping short beside the first cot. +He stooped and peered intently into the face of the wounded bandit. +"By George!"</p> +<p>"What's up?"</p> +<p>"As I live, Mr. Crow, this fellow was one of the gang that +abducted Rosalie Gray last winter. I can swear to it. Don't you +remember the one she tried to intercede for? Briggs! That's it! +Briggs!"</p> +<p>The injured man slowly opened his eyes as the name was half +shouted. A sickly grin spread slowly over his pain-racked face.</p> +<p>"She tried to intercede fer me, did she?" he murmured weakly. +"She said she would. She was square."</p> +<p>"You were half decent to her," said Bonner. "How do you happen +to be with this gang? Another kidnaping scheme afloat?"</p> +<p>"No—not that I know of. Ain't you the guy that fixed us? +Say, on the dead, I was goin' to do the right thing by her that +night. I was duckin' the gang when you slugged me. Honest, mister, +I was goin' to put her friends next. Say, I don't know how bad I'm +hurt, but if I ever git to trial, do what you can fer me, boss. On +the dead, I was her friend."</p> +<p>Bonner saw pity in Anderson's face and rudely dragged him away, +although Bill's plea was not addressed to the old marshal.</p> +<p>"Wait for me out here, Mr. Crow," said he when they reached the +office. "You are overcome. I'll talk to him." He returned at once +to the injured man's cot.</p> +<p>"Look here, Briggs, I'll do what I can for you, but I'm afraid +it won't help much. What do the doctors say?"</p> +<p>"If they ain't lyin', I'll be up an' about in a few weeks. +Shoulder and some ribs cracked and my legs stove up. I can't move. +God, that was an awful tumble!" He shuddered in memory of the +auto's leap.</p> +<p>"Is Sam or Davy in this gang?"</p> +<p>"No; Davy's at Blackwell's Island, an' Sam told me he was goin' +to Canada fer his health. Jim Courtney is the leader of this gang. +He sailed under the name of Gregory. That's him swearin' at the +rubes."</p> +<p>"The thing for you to do is to make a clean breast of it, +Briggs. It will go easier with you."</p> +<p>"Turn State's evidence? What good will that do when we was all +caught with the goods?"</p> +<p>"If you will tell us all of the inside facts concerning the +abduction I'll guarantee that something can be done to lighten your +sentence. I am Congressman Bonner's nephew."</p> +<p>"So? I thought you was the swellest hold-up man I ever met, that +night out in the woods. You'd do credit to Sam Welch himself. I'll +tell you all I know, pardner, but it ain't a great deal. It won't +do me any good to keep my mouth shut now, an', if you say so, it +may help me to squeal. But, fer the Lord's sake, have one of these +rotten doctors give me something to make me sleep. Don't they know +what morphine is for?"</p> +<p>Growling and cursing at the doctors, Bill was moved into the +office. Anderson came in from the dining-room at that juncture, +visibly excited.</p> +<p>"I've got a confession from Gregory," he said. "He confesses +that he oughter be hung."</p> +<p>"What!"</p> +<p>"That's what he said—'y ginger. Here's his very words, +plain as day: 'I oughter be hung half a dozen times.' 'What fer?' +says I. 'Fer bein' sech a damned ass,' said he. 'But that ain't a +hangable offence,' said I. You know, I kinder like Gregory, spite +of all. 'It's the worst crime in the world,' said he. 'Then you +confess you've committed it?' said I, anxious to pin him right down +to it, y' see.' 'ou bet I do. Ef they hang me it'll be because I'm +a drivelling idiot, an' not because I've shot one er two in my +time. Nobody but an ass could be caught at it, an' that's why I +feel so infernal guilty. Look here, Mr. Crow, ever' time you see a +feller that's proved himself a downright ass, jest take him out an' +lynch him. He deserves it, that's all I've got to say. The greatest +crime in the world is criminal neglect.' Don't bother me now, Wick; +I'm going to write that down an' have him sign it."</p> +<p>"Look here, pard," said Bill Briggs, laboriously breaking in +upon their conversation; "I want to do the right thing by you an' +her as fer as I can. You've been good to me, an' I won't fergit it. +Besides, you said you'd make things easy fer me if I told you what +I knowed about that job last winter. Well, I'd better tell it now, +'cause I'm liable to pass in my checks before these doctors git +through with me. An' besides, they'll be haulin' me off to the +county seat in a day or two. Now, this is dead straight, I'm goin' +to give you. Maybe it won't help you none, but 'll give you a +lead."</p> +<p>"Go on," cried Bonner breathlessly.</p> +<p>"Well, Sam Welch come to me in Branigan's place one +night—that's in Fourt' Avenue—an' says he's got a big +job on. We went over to Davy Wolfe's house an' found him an' his +mother—the old fairy, you remember. Well, to make it short, +Sam said it was a kidnaping job an' the Wolfes was to be in on it +because they used to live in this neighbourhood an' done a lot of +work here way back in the seventies. There was to be five thousand +dollars in the job if we got that girl safe on board a ship bound +fer Europe. Sam told us that the guy what engineered the game was a +swell party an' a big boy in politics, finance, society an' +ever'thin' else. He could afford to pay, but he didn't want to be +seen in the job. Nobody but Sam ever seen his face. Sam used to be +in politics some. Jest before we left New York to come up here, the +swell guy comes around to Davy's with another guy fer final orders. +See? It was as cold as h—— as the dickens—an' the +two of 'em was all muffled up so's we couldn't get a pipe at their +mugs. One of 'em was old—over fifty, I guess—an' the +other was a young chap. I'm sure of that.</p> +<p>"They said that one or the other of 'em would be in this +neighbourhood when the job was pulled off; that one thousand +dollars would be paid down when we started; another thousand when +we got 'er into the cave; and the rest when we had 'er at the dock +in New York—alive an' unhurt. See? We was given to understand +that she was to travel all the rest of 'er life fer 'er health. I +remember one thing plain: The old man said to the young 'un: 'She +must not know a thing of this, or it will ruin everything.' He +wasn't referrin' to the girl either. There was another woman in the +case. They seemed mighty anxious to pull the job off without this +woman gettin' next.</p> +<p>"Well, we got ready to start, and the two parties coughed up the +thousand plunks—that is, the young 'un handed it over to Sam +when the old 'un told him to. Sam took three hundred and the rest +of us two hundred a piece. When they were lookin' from the winder +to see that nobody on the streets was watchin' the house, I asked +Sam if he knowed either of them by name. He swore he didn't, but I +think he lied. But jest before they left the house, I happened to +look inside of the old boy's hat—he had a stiff dicer. There +was a big gilt letter in the top of it."</p> +<p>"What was that letter?" demanded Bonner eagerly.</p> +<p>"It was a B."</p> +<p>Bonner looked at Anderson as if the floor were being drawn from +under his feet.</p> +<p>"The young chap said somethin' low to the old 'un about takin' +the night train back to the University an' comin' down again +Saturday."</p> +<p>"To the University? Which one? Did he mention the name?" cried +Bonner.</p> +<p>"No. That's all he said."</p> +<p>"Good heavens, if it should be!" said Bonner as if to +himself.</p> +<p>"Well, we come up here an' done the job. You know about that, I +guess. Sam saw the young feller one night up at Boggs City, an' got +instructions from him. He was to help us git 'er away from here in +an automobile, an' the old man was to go across the ocean with 'er. +That's all I know. It didn't turn out their way that time, but Sam +says it's bound to happen."</p> +<p>Bonner, all eagerness and excitement, quickly looked around for +Anderson, but the marshal had surreptitiously left the room. Then, +going over to the door, he called for Anderson Crow. Bud Long was +there.</p> +<p>"Anderson left five minutes ago, Mr. Bonner, hurryin' like the +dickens, too," he said. "He's gone to hunt up a feller named +Barnes. He told me to tell you when you came out."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER +XXXIV</h2> +<h3><i>Elsie Banks Returns</i></h3> +<p>Bonner, considerably annoyed and alarmed by the marshal's +actions, made every effort to turn him back before he could ruin +everything by an encounter with Mr. Barnes. He sent men on bicycles +and horseback to overtake him; but the effort was unsuccessful. Mr. +Crow had secured a "ride" in an automobile which had brought two +newspaper correspondents over from Boggs City. They speeded +furiously in order to catch a train for New York, but agreed to +drop the marshal at the big bridge, not more than a mile from Judge +Brewster's place.</p> +<p>Chagrined beyond expression, he made ready to follow Anderson +with all haste in his own machine. Rosalie hurriedly perfected +preparations to accompany him. She was rejoining the house party +that day, was consumed by excitement over the situation, and just +as eager as Bonner to checkmate the untimely operations of poor old +Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>The marshal had more than half an hour's start of them. Bonner +was his own chauffeur and he was a reckless one to-day. Luck was +against him at the outset. The vigorous old detective inspired to +real speed, for the first time in his lackadaisacal life, left the +newspaper men at the bridge nearly three-quarters of an hour before +Bonner passed the same spot, driving furiously up the hill toward +Judge Brewster's.</p> +<p>"If your bothersome old daddy gets his eyes on Barnes before I +can head him off, dearest, the jig will be up," groaned Bonner, the +first words he had spoken in miles. "Barnes will be on his guard +and ready for anything. The old—pardon me, for saying +it—the old jay ought to know the value of discretion in a +case like this."</p> +<p>"Poor old daddy," she sighed, compassion in her heart. "He +thinks he is doing it for the best. Wicker, I hope it is—it +is not Mr. Barnes," she added, voicing a thought which had been +struggling in her mind for a long time.</p> +<p>"Why not, dearest?"</p> +<p>"It would mean one of two things. Either he does not want to +recognise me as his child—or cannot, which is even worse. +Wicker, I don't want to know the truth. I am afraid—I am +afraid."</p> +<p>She was trembling like a leaf and there was positive distress in +her eyes, eyes half covered by lids tense with alarm.</p> +<p>"Don't feel that way about it, dear," cried he, recovering from +his astonishment and instantly grasping the situation as it must +have appeared to her. "To tell you the truth, I do not believe that +Mr. Barnes is related to you in any way. If he is connected with +the case at all, it is in the capacity of attorney."</p> +<p>"But he is supposed to be an honourable man."</p> +<p>"True, and I still believe him to be. It does not seem possible +that he can be engaged in such work as this. We are going +altogether on supposition—putting two and two together, don't +you know, and hoping they will stick. But, in any event, we must +not let any chance slip by. If he is interested, we must bring him +to time. It may mean the unravelling of the whole skein, dear. +Don't look so distressed. Be brave. It doesn't matter what we learn +in the end, I love you just the same. You shall be my wife."</p> +<p>"I <i>do</i> love you, Wicker. I will always love you."</p> +<p>"Dear little sweetheart!"</p> +<p>They whirled up to the lodge gate at Judge Brewster's place at +last, the throbbing machine coming to a quick stop. Before he +called out to the lodge keeper, Bonner impulsively drew her +gloveless hand to his lips.</p> +<p>"Nothing can make any difference now," he said.</p> +<p>The lodge keeper, in reply to Bonner's eager query, informed +them that Mr. Barnes had gone away ten or fifteen minutes before +with an old man who claimed to be a detective, and who had placed +the great lawyer under arrest.</p> +<p>"Good Lord!" gasped Bonner with a sinking heart.</p> +<p>"It's an outrage, sir! Mr. Barnes is the best man in the world. +He never wronged no one, sir. There's an 'orrible mistake, sir," +groaned the lodge keeper. "Judge Brewster is in Boggs City, and the +man wouldn't wait for his return. He didn't even want to tell Mr. +Barnes what 'e was charged with."</p> +<p>"Did you ever hear of anything so idiotic?" roared Bonner. +Rosalie was white and red by turn. "What direction did they +take?"</p> +<p>"The constable told Mr. Barnes he'd 'ave to go to Tinkletown +with 'im at once, sir, even if he 'ad to walk all the way. The old +chap said something, sir, about a man being there who could +identify him on sight. Mr. Barnes 'ad to laugh, sir, and appeared +to take it all in good humour. He said he'd go along of 'im, but he +wouldn't walk. So he got his own auto out, sir, and they went off +together. They took the short cut, sir, by the ferry road, 'eaded +for Tinkletown. Mr. Barnes said he'd be back before noon, +sir—if he wasn't lynched."</p> +<p>"It's all over," groaned Bonner dejectedly. Something had +slipped from under his feet and he was dangling in space, +figuratively speaking. "There's nothing to do, Rosalie, except to +chase them down. Mr. Crow has ruined everything. I'll leave you at +Bonner Place with mother and Edith, and I'll hurry back to +Tinkletown."</p> +<p>The excitement was too much for Rosalie's nerves. She was in a +state of physical collapse when he set her down at his uncle's +summer home half an hour later. Leaving her to explain the +situation to the curious friends, he set speed again for +Tinkletown, inwardly cursing Anderson Crow for a meddling old +fool.</p> +<p>In the meantime Tinkletown was staring open-mouthed upon a new +sensation. The race between Anderson and Bonner was hardly under +way when down the main street of the town came a jaded team and +surrey. Behind the driver sat a pretty young woman with an eager +expression on her pale face, her gaze bent intently on the turn in +the street which hid Anderson Crow's home from view. Beside the +young woman lounged another of her sex, much older, and to all +appearances, in a precarious state of health. The young men along +the street gasped in amazement and then ventured to doff their +timid hats to the young woman, very much as if they were saluting a +ghost. Few of them received a nod of recognition from Elsie Banks, +one-time queen of all their hearts.</p> +<p>Roscoe Crow bounded out to the gate when he saw who was in the +carriage, first shouting to his mother and sisters, who were +indoors receiving congratulations and condolences from their +neighbours.</p> +<p>Miss Banks immediately inquired if she could see Rosalie.</p> +<p>"She ain't here," said Roscoe. "She's away fer a +month—over at the Bonners'. He's her feller, you know. Ma! +Here's Miss Banks! Edner! Sue!" Mrs. Crow and the girls flew out to +the gate, babbling their surprise and greetings.</p> +<p>"This is my mother," introduced the young lady. "We have just +come from New York, Mrs. Crow. We sail for England this week, and I +must see Rosalie before we go. How can we get to Mr. Bonner's +place?"</p> +<p>"It's across the river, about twelve miles from here," said Mrs. +Crow. "Come in and rest yourselves. You don't have to go back +to-day, do you? Ain't you married yet?"</p> +<p>"No, Mrs. Crow," responded Elsie, with a stiff, perfunctory +smile. "Thank you, we cannot stop. It is necessary that we return +to New York to-night, but I must see Rosalie before going. You see, +Mrs. Crow, I do not expect to return to America. We are to live in +London forever, I fear. It may be the last chance I'll have to see +Rosalie. I must go on to Bonner Place to-day. But, dear me, I am so +tired and hot, and it is so far to drive," she cried ruefully. "Do +you know the way, driver?" The driver gruffly admitted that he did +not. Roscoe eagerly bridged the difficulty by offering to act as +pathfinder.</p> +<p>At first Mrs. Banks tried to dissuade her daughter from +undertaking the long trip, but the girl was obstinate. Her mother +then flatly refused to accompany her, complaining of her head and +heart. In the end the elder lady decided to accept Mrs. Crow's +invitation to remain at the house until Elsie's return.</p> +<p>"I shall bring Rosalie back with me, mother," said Elsie as she +prepared to drive away. Mrs. Banks, frail and wan, bowed her head +listlessly and turned to follow her hostess indoors. With Roscoe in +the seat with the driver, the carriage started briskly off down the +shady street, headed for the ferry road and Bonner Place.</p> +<p>To return to Anderson Crow and his precipitancy. Just as the +lodge keeper had said, the marshal, afoot and dusty, descended upon +Mr. Barnes without ceremony. The great lawyer was strolling about +the grounds when his old enemy arrived. He recognised the odd +figure as it approached among the trees.</p> +<p>"Hello, Mr. Crow!" he called cheerily. "Are you going to arrest +me again?" He advanced to shake hands.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; you are my prisoner," said Anderson, panting, but +stern. "I know you, Mr. Barnes. It won't do you any good to deny +it."</p> +<p>"Come in and sit down. You look tired," said Barnes genially, +regarding his words as a jest; but Anderson proudly stood his +ground.</p> +<p>"You can't come any game with me. It won't do you no good to be +perlite, my man. This time you don't git away."</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/352.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"You don't mean to say you are in earnest?" cried Barnes.</p> +<p>"I never joke when on duty. Come along with me. You c'n talk +afterward. Your hirelin' is in jail an' he c'n identify you; so +don't resist."</p> +<p>"Wait a moment, sir. What is the charge?"</p> +<p>"I don't know yet. You know better'n I do what it is."</p> +<p>"Look here, Mr. Crow. You arrested me the first time I ever saw +you, and now you yank me up again, after all these years. Haven't +you anything else to do but arrest me by mistake? Is that your only +occupation?"</p> +<p>Anderson sputtered indignantly. Driven to it, he informed John +Barnes that he was charged with kidnaping, attempted murder, +polygamy, child desertion, and nearly everything else under the +sun. Barnes, at first indignant, finally broke into a hearty laugh. +He magnanimously agreed to accompany his captor to Tinkletown. Not +only that, but he provided the means of transportation. To the +intense dismay of the servants, he merrily departed with Mr. Crow, +a prisoner operating his own patrol wagon. The two were smoking the +captive's best cigars.</p> +<p>"It's mighty nice of you, Mr. Barnes, to let us use your +autermobile," said Anderson, benignly puffing away as they bowled +off through the dust. "It would 'a' been a long walk. I'll speak a +good word fer you fer this."</p> +<p>"Don't mention it, old chap. I rather enjoy it. It's been +uncommonly dull up here. I did not get away as soon as I expected, +you see. So I am charged with being Rosalie's father, eh? And +deserting her? And kidnaping her? By jove, I ought to be hung for +all this!"</p> +<p>"'Tain't nothin' to laugh at, my friend. You ought to be ashamed +of yourself. I was onto you the day you stopped me in the road an' +ast about her. What a fool you was. Reg'lar dead give-away."</p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/354.jpg" width="50%" alt="" +title="" /></div> +<p>"See here, Mr. Crow, I don't like to upset your hopes and +calculations," said Barnes soberly. "I did that once before, you +remember. That was years ago. You were wrong then, and you are +wrong now. Shall I tell you why I am interested in this pretty waif +of yours?"</p> +<p>"It ain't necessary," protested the marshal.</p> +<p>"I'll tell you just the same. My son met her in New York while +he was at school. He heard her story from mutual friends and +repeated it to me. I was naturally interested, and questioned you. +He said she was very pretty. That is the whole story, my dear +sir."</p> +<p>"That's all very purty, but how about the B in your hat?"</p> +<p>"I don't understand. Oh, you mean the political bee?"</p> +<p>"Politics, your granny! I mean the 'nitial that Briggs saw. No; +hold on! Don't answer. Don't say anything that'll incriminate +yourself."</p> +<p>"I never had an initial in my hat, and I don't know Briggs. Mr. +Crow, you are as crazy as a loon." He prepared to bring the machine +to a standstill. "I'm going home. You can ride back with me or get +out and walk on, just as you please."</p> +<p>"Hold on! Don't do that! I'll see that you're paid fer the use +of the machine. Besides, consarn ye, you're my prisoner." This was +too much for Barnes. He laughed long and loud, and he did not turn +back.</p> +<p>Just beyond the ferry they turned aside to permit a carriage to +pass. A boy on the box with the driver shouted frantically after +them, and Anderson tried to stop the machine himself.</p> +<p>"Stop her!" he cried; "that's Roscoe, my boy. Hold on! Who's +that with him? Why, by cracky, it's Miss Banks! Gee whiz, has she +come back here to teach again? Whoa! Turn her around, Mr. Barnes. +They are motionin' fer us to come back. 'Pears to be important, +too."</p> +<p>Barnes obligingly turned around and ran back to where the +carriage was standing. An hour later the automobile rolled into the +driveway at Bonner Place, and Anderson Crow, a glorious triumph in +his face, handed Miss Banks from the tonneau and into the arms of +Rosalie Gray, who at first had mistaken the automobile for another. +Pompous to the point of explosion, Anderson waved his hand to the +party assembled on the veranda, strolled around to Mr. Barnes's +seat and acquired a light for his cigar with a nonchalance that +almost overcame his one-time prisoner, and then said, apparently to +the whole world, for he addressed no one in particular:</p> +<p>"I knowed I could solve the blamed thing if they'd jest give me +time."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> +<h3><i>The Story is Told</i></h3> +<p>Elsie Banks had a small and select audience in Mrs. Bonner's +room upstairs. She had come from New York—or from California, +strictly speaking—to furnish the narrative which was to set +Rosalie Gray's mind at rest forever-more. It was not a pleasant +task; it was not an easy sacrifice for this spirited girl who had +known luxury all her life. Her spellbound hearers were Mrs. Bonner +and Edith, Wicker Bonner, Anderson Crow, Rosalie, and John E. +Barnes, who, far from being a captive of the law, was now Miss +Gray's attorney, retained some hours before by his former +captor.</p> +<p>"I discharge you, sir," Anderson had said, after hearing Miss +Bank's statement in the roadway. "You are no longer a prisoner. +Have you anything to say, sir?"</p> +<p>"Nothing, Mr. Crow, except to offer my legal services to you and +your ward in this extraordinary matter. Put the matter in my hands, +sir, and she shall soon come into her own, thanks to this young +lady. I may add that, as I am not in the habit of soliciting +clients, it is not my intention in this instance to exact a fee +from your ward. My services are quite free, given in return, Mr. +Crow, for the magnanimous way in which you have taken me into your +confidence ever since I have known you. It is an honour to have +been arrested by you; truthfully it is no disgrace."</p> +<p>In the privacy of Mrs. Bonner's sitting-room, Elsie Banks, +dry-eyed and bitter, told the story of her life. I cannot tell it +as she did, for she was able to bring tears to the eyes of her +listeners. It is only for me to relate the bare facts, putting them +into her words as closely as possible. Rosalie Gray, faint with +astonishment and incredulity, a lump in her throat that would not +go down, and tears in her eyes, leaned back in an easy-chair and +watched her unhappy friend.</p> +<p>"I shall provide Mr. Barnes with proof of everything I say," +said Miss Banks. "There can be no difficulty, Rosalie dear, in +confirming all that I have to tell. If you will permit me to relate +the story without interruption and afterward let me go my way +without either pity or contempt, I shall be, oh, so grateful to you +all—especially to you, dear Rosalie. Believe me I love you +with my whole soul.</p> +<p>"I have come to you voluntarily, and my mother, who is in +Tinkletown, in resigning herself to the calls of conscience, is now +happier than she has ever been before. A more powerful influence +than her own will or her own honour, an influence that was evil to +the core, inspired her to countenance this awful wrong. It also +checkmated every good impulse she may have had to undo it in after +years. That influence came from Oswald Banks, a base monster to +whom my mother was married when I was a year old. My mother was the +daughter of Lord Abbott Brace, but married my own father, George +Stuart, who was a brilliant but radical newspaper writer in London, +against her father's wish. For this he cast her off and +disinherited her. Grandfather hated him and his views, and he could +not forgive my mother even after my father died, which was two +years after their marriage.</p> +<p>"Lord Richard Brace, my mother's only brother, married the +daughter of the Duchess of B——. You, Rosalie, are Lady +Rosalie Brace of Brace Hall, W—shire, England, the true +granddaughter of General Lord Abbott Brace, one of the noblest and +richest men of his day. Please let me go on; I cannot endure the +interruptions. The absolute, unalterable proof of what I say shall +be established through the confession of my own mother, in whose +possession lies every document necessary to give back to you that +which she would have given to me.</p> +<p>"Your mother died a few weeks after you were born, and Sir +Richard, who loved my mother in the face of his father's +displeasure, placed you in her care, while he rushed off, +heart-broken, to find solace in Egypt. It is said that he hated you +because you were the cause of her death. On the day after your +birth, old Lord Brace changed his will and bequeathed a vast amount +of unentailed property to you, to be held in trust by your father +until you were twenty-one years of age. I was almost two years old +at the time, and the old man, unexpectedly compassionate, inserted +a provision which, in the event that you were to die before that +time, gave all this money to me on my twenty-first birthday. The +interest on this money, amounting to five thousand pounds annually, +was to go to you regularly, in one case, or to me, in the other. +Oswald Banks was an American, whom my mother had met in London +several years prior to her first marriage. He was the London +representative of a big Pennsylvania manufacturing concern. He was +ambitious, unscrupulous and clever beyond conception. He still is +all of these and more, for he is now a coward.</p> +<p>"Well, it was he who concocted the diabolical scheme to one day +get possession of your inheritance. He coerced my poor mother into +acquiescense, and she became his wretched tool instead of an +honoured wife and helpmate. One night, when you were three weeks +old, the house in which we lived was burned to the ground, the +inmates narrowly escaping. So narrow was the escape, in fact, that +you were said to have been left behind in the confusion, and the +world was told, the next day, that the granddaughter of Lord Brace +had been destroyed by the flames.</p> +<p>"The truth, however, was not told. My stepfather did not dare to +go so far as to kill you. It was he who caused the fire, but he had +you removed to a small hotel in another part of the city some hours +earlier, secretly, of course, but in charge of a trusted maid. My +mother was responsible for this. She would not listen to his awful +plan to leave you in the house. But you might just as well have +died. No one was the wiser and you were given up as lost. A week +later, my mother and Mr. Banks started for America. You and I were +with them, but you went as the daughter of a +maid-servant—Ellen Hayes.</p> +<p>"This is the story as my mother has told it to me after all +these years. My stepfather's plan, of course, was to place you +where you could never be found, and then to see to it that our +grandfather did not succeed in changing his will. Moreover, he was +bound and determined that he himself should be named as +trustee—when the fortune came over at Lord Brace's death. +That part of it turned out precisely as he had calculated. Let me +go on a few months in advance of my story. Lord Brace died, and the +will was properly probated and the provisions carried out. Brace +Hall and the estates went to your father and the bequest came to +me, for you were considered dead. My stepfather was made trustee. +He gave bond in England and America, I believe. In any event, the +fortune was to be mine when I reached the age of twenty-one, but +each year the income, nearly twenty-five thousand dollars, was to +be paid to my stepfather as trustee, to be safely invested by him. +My mother's name was not mentioned in the document, except once, to +identify me as the beneficiary. I can only add to this phase of the +hateful conspiracy, that for nineteen years my stepfather received +this income, and that he used it to establish his own fortune. By +investing what was supposed to be my money, he has won his own way +to wealth.</p> +<p>"Mr. Banks decided that the operations were safest from this +side of the Atlantic. He and my mother took up their residence in +New York, and it has been their home ever since. He spent the first +half year after your suspected death in London, solely for the +purpose of establishing himself in Lord Brace's favour. Within a +year after the death of Lord Brace your father was killed by a +poacher on the estate. He had but lately returned from Egypt, and +was in full control of the lands and property attached to Brace +Hall. If my stepfather had designs upon Brace Hall, they failed, +for the lands and the title went at once to your father's cousin, +Sir Harry Brace, the present lord.</p> +<p>"So much for the conditions in England then and now. I now +return to that part of the story which most interests and concerns +you. My poor mother was compelled, within a fortnight after we +landed in New York, to give up the dangerous infant who was always +to hang like a cloud between fortune and honour. The maid-servant +was paid well for her silence. By the way, she died mysteriously +soon after coming to America, but not before giving to my mother a +signed paper setting forth clearly every detail in so far as it +bore upon her connection with the hateful transaction. Conscience +was forever at work in my mother's heart; honour was constantly +struggling to the surface, only to be held back by fear of and +loyalty to the man she loved.</p> +<p>"It was decided that the most humane way to put you out of +existence was to leave you on the doorstep of some kindly disposed +person, far from New York. My stepfather and my mother deliberately +set forth on this so-called mission of mercy. They came north, and +by chance, fell in with a resident of Boggs City while in the +station at Albany. They were debating which way to turn for the +next step. My mother was firm in the resolve that you should be +left in the care of honest, reliable, tender-hearted people, who +would not abuse the trust she was to impose. The Boggs City man +said he had been in Albany to see about a bill in the legislature, +which was to provide for the erection of a monument in +Tinkletown—where a Revolutionary battle had been fought. It +was he who spoke of Anderson Crow, and it was his stories of your +goodness and generosity, Mr. Crow, that caused them to select you +as the man who was to have Rosalie, and, with her, the sum of one +thousand dollars a year for your trouble and her needs.</p> +<p>"My mother's description of that stormy night in February, more +than twenty-one years ago, is the most pitiful thing I have ever +listened to. Together they made their way to Tinkletown, hiring a +vehicle in Boggs City for the purpose. Mr. Banks left the basket on +your porch while mother stood far down the street and waited for +him, half frozen and heartsick. Then they hurried out of town and +were soon safely on their way to New York. It was while my +stepfather was in London, later on, that mother came up to see +Rosalie and make that memorable first payment to Mr. Crow. How it +went on for years, you all know. It was my stepfather's cleverness +that made it so impossible to learn the source from which the +mysterious money came.</p> +<p>"We travelled constantly, always finding new places of interest +in which my mother's conscience could be eased by contact with +beauty and excitement. Gradually she became hardened to the +conditions, for, after all, was it not her own child who was to be +enriched by the theft and the deception? Mr. Banks constantly +forced that fact in upon her mother-love and her vanity. Through it +all, however, you were never neglected nor forgotten. My mother had +your welfare always in mind. It was she who saw that you and I were +placed at the same school in New York, and it was she who saw that +your training in a way was as good as it could possibly be without +exciting risk.</p> +<p>"Of course, I knew nothing of all this. I was rolling in wealth +and luxury, but not in happiness. Instinctively I loathed my +stepfather. He was hard, cruel, unreasonable. It was because of him +that I left school and afterward sought to earn my own living. You +know, Rosalie, how Tom Reddon came into my life. He was the son of +William Reddon, my stepfather's business partner, who had charge of +the Western branch of the concern in Chicago. We lived in Chicago +for several years, establishing the business. Mr. Banks was until +recently president of the Banks & Reddon Iron Works. Last year, +you doubtless know, the plant was sold to the great combine and the +old company passed out of existence. This act was the result of a +demand from England that the trust under which he served be closed +and struck from the records. It was his plan to settle the matter, +turn the inheritance over to me according to law, and then impose +upon my inexperience for all time to come. The money, while mine +literally, was to be his in point of possession.</p> +<p>"But he had reckoned without the son of his partner. Tom Reddon +in some way learned the secret, and he was compelled to admit the +young man into all of his plans. This came about some three years +ago, while I was in school. I had known Tom Reddon in Chicago. He +won my love. I cannot deny it, although I despise him to-day more +deeply than I ever expect to hate again. He was even more +despicable than my stepfather. Without the faintest touch of pity, +he set about to obliterate every chance Rosalie could have had for +restitution. Time began to prove to me that he was not the man I +thought him to be. His nature revealed itself; and I found I could +not marry him. Besides, my mother was beginning to repent. She +awoke from her stupor of indifference and strove in every way to +circumvent the plot of the two conspirators, so far as I was +concerned. The strain told on her at last, and we went to +California soon after my ridiculous flight from Tinkletown last +winter. It was not until after that adventure that I began to see +deep into the wretched soul of Tom Reddon.</p> +<p>"Then came the most villainous part of the whole conspiracy. +Reddon, knowing full well that exposure was possible at any time, +urged my stepfather to have you kidnaped and hurried off to some +part of the world where you could never be found. Even Reddon did +not have the courage to kill you. Neither had the heart to commit +actual murder. It was while we were at Colonel Randall's place that +the abduction took place, you remember. Mr. Banks and Tom Reddon +had engaged their men in New York. These desperadoes came to Boggs +City while Tom was here to watch their operations. All the time Mr. +Crow was chasing us down Reddon was laughing in his sleeve, for he +knew what was to happen during the marshal's absence. You know how +successfully he managed the job. It was my stepfather's fault that +it did not succeed.</p> +<p>"My mother, down in New York, driven to the last extreme, had +finally turned on him and demanded that he make restitution to +Rosalie Gray, as we had come to know her. Of course, there was a +scene and almost a catastrophe. He was so worried over the position +she was taking, that he failed to carry out his part of the plans, +which were to banish Rosalie forever from this country. You were to +have been taken to Paris, dear, and kept forever in one of those +awful sanitoriums. They are worse than the grave. In the meantime, +the delay gave Mr. Bonner a chance to rescue you from the +kidnapers.</p> +<p>"Shortly after reaching New York I quarrelled with Thomas +Reddon, and my mother and I fled to California. He followed us and +sought a reconciliation. I loathed him so much by this time, that I +appealed to my mother. It was then that she told me this miserable +story, and that is why we are in Tinkletown to-day. We learned in +some way of the plot to kidnap you and to place you where you could +not be found. The inhuman scheme of my stepfather and his adviser +was to have my mother declared insane and confined in an asylum, +where her truthful utterances could never be heard by the world, or +if they were, as the ravings of a mad woman.</p> +<p>"The day that we reached New York my mother <i>placed</i> the +documents and every particle of proof in her possession in the +hands of the British Consul. The story was told to him and also to +certain attorneys. A member of his firm visited my stepfather and +confronted him with the charges. That very night Mr. Banks +disappeared, leaving behind him a note, in which he said we should +never see his face again. Tom Reddon has gone to Europe. My mother +and I expect to sail this week for England, and I have come to ask +Rosalie to accompany us. I want her to stand at last on the soil +which knows her to be Rosalie Brace. The fortune which was mine +last week is hers to-day. We are not poor, Rosalie dear, but we are +not as rich as we were when we had all that belonged to you."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER +XXXVI</h2> +<h3><i>Anderson Crow's Resignation</i></h3> +<p>Some days later Anderson Crow returned to Tinkletown from New +York, where he had seen Rosalie Bonner and her husband off for +England, accompanied by Mrs. Banks and Elsie, who had taken passage +on the same steamer. He was attired in a brand-new suit of blue +serge, a panama hat, and patent-leather shoes which hurt his feet. +Moreover, he carried a new walking stick with a great gold head and +there was a huge pearl scarf-pin in his necktie Besides all this, +his hair and beard had been trimmed to perfection by a Holland +House barber. Every morning his wife was obliged to run a flatiron +over his trousers to perpetuate the crease. Altogether Anderson was +a revelation not only to his family and to the town at large, but +to himself as well. He fairly staggered every time he got a glimpse +of himself in the shop windows.</p> +<p>All day long he strolled about the street, from store to store, +or leaned imposingly against every post that presented itself +conveniently. Naturally he was the talk of the town.</p> +<p>"Gee-mi-nently!" ejaculated Alf Reesling, catching sight of him +late in the day. "Is that the president?"</p> +<p>"It's Anderson Crow," explained Blootch Peabody.</p> +<p>"Who's dead?" demanded Alf.</p> +<p>"What's that got to do with it?"</p> +<p>"Why, whose clothes is he wearin'?" pursued Alf, utterly +overcome by the picture.</p> +<p>"You'd better not let him hear you say that," cautioned Isaac +Porter. "He got 'em in New York. He says young Mr. Bonner give 'em +to him fer a weddin' present. Rosalie give him a pearl dingus to +wear in his cravat, an' derned ef he don't have to wear a collar +all the time now. That lawyer Barnes give him the cane. Gee whiz! +he looks like a king, don't he?"</p> +<p>At that moment Anderson approached the group in front of +Lamson's store. He walked with a stateliness that seemed to signify +pain in his lower extremities more than it did dignity higher +up.</p> +<p>"How fer out do you reckon they are by this time, Blootch?" he +asked earnestly.</p> +<p>"'Bout ten miles further than when you asked while ago," +responded Blootch, consulting his watch.</p> +<p>"Well, that ought to get 'em to Liverpool sometime soon then. +They took a powerful fast ship. Makes it in less 'n six days, they +say. Let's see. They sailed day before yesterday. They must be out +sight o' land by this time."</p> +<p>"Yes, unless they're passin' some islands," agreed Blootch.</p> +<p>"Thunderation! What air you talkin' about?" said Anderson +scornfully. "Cuby an' Porty Rico's been passed long ago. Them +islands ain't far from Boston. Don't you remember how skeered the +Boston people were durin' the war with Spain? Feared the Spanish +shells might go a little high an' smash up the town? Islands +nothin'! They've got away out into deep water by this time, boys. +'y Gosh, I'm anxious about Rosalie. S'posin' that derned boat +struck a rock er upset er somethin'! They never could swim +ashore."</p> +<p>"Oh, there's no danger, Anderson," said Mr. Lamson. "Those boats +are perfectly safe. I suppose they're going to telegraph you when +they land."</p> +<p>"No, they're goin' to cable, Wick says. Doggone, I'm glad it's +all settled. You don't know how hard I've worked all these years to +find out who her parents was. Course I knowed they were foreigners +all the time, but Rosalie never had no brogue, so you c'n see how I +was threw off the track. She talked jest as good American as we do. +I was mighty glad when I finally run Miss Banks to earth." The +crowd was in no position to argue the point with him. "That Miss +Banks is a fine girl, boys. She done the right thing. An' so did my +Rosalie—I mean Lady Rosalie. She made Elsie keep some of the +money. Mr. Barnes is goin' to England next week to help settle the +matter for Lady Rosalie. He says she's got nearly a million dollars +tied up some'eres. It's easy sailin', though, 'cause Mrs. Banks +says so. Did you hear what Rosalie said when she got convinced +about bein' an English lady?"</p> +<p>"No; what did she say?"</p> +<p>"She jest stuck up that derned little nose o' hern an' said: 'I +am an American as long as I live.'"</p> +<p>"Hooray!" shouted Alf Reesling, throwing Isaac Porter's new hat +into the air. The crowd joined in the cheering.</p> +<p>"Did I ever tell you how I knowed all along that it was a man +who left Rosalie on the porch?" asked Anderson.</p> +<p>"Why, you allus told me it was a woman," said Alf. "You accused +me of bein' her."</p> +<p>"Shucks! Woman nothin'! I knowed it was a man. Here's somethin' +you don't know, Alf. I sized up the foot-prints on my front steps +jest after she—I mean he—dropped the basket. The toes +turned outward, plain as day, right there in the snow." He paused +to let the statement settle in their puzzled brains. "Don't you +know that one hunderd percent of the women turn their toes in when +they go upstairs? To keep from hookin' into their skirts? Thunder, +you oughter of thought of that, too!"</p> +<p>Some one had posted Anderson on this peculiarly feminine trait, +and he was making the best of it. Incidentally, it may be said that +every man in Tinkletown took personal observations in order to +satisfy himself.</p> +<p>"Any one seen Pastor MacFarlane?" went on Anderson. "Wick Bonner +give me a hunderd dollar bill to give him fer performin' the +ceremony up to our house that night. G'way, Ed Higgins! I'm not +goin' 'round showin' that bill to people. If robbers got onto the +fact I have it, they'd probably try to steal it. I don't keer if +you ain't seen that much money in one piece. That's none of my +lookout. Say, are you comin' to the town meetin' to-night?"</p> +<p>They were all at the meeting of the town board that night. It +was held, as usual, in Odd Fellows' Hall, above Peterson's +dry-goods store, and there was not so much as standing room in the +place when the clerk read the minutes of the last meeting. Word had +gone forth that something unusual was to happen. It was not idle +rumour, for soon after the session began, Anderson Crow arose to +address the board.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "I have +come before you as I notified you I would. I hereby tender my +resignation as marshal of Tinkletown, street commissioner and chief +of the fire department—an' any other job I may have that has +slipped my mind. I now suggest that you app'int Mr. Ed Higgins in +my place. He has wanted the job fer some time, an' says it won't +interfere with his business any more than it did with mine. I have +worked hard all these years an' I feel that I ought to have a rest. +Besides, it has got to be so that thieves an' other criminals won't +visit Tinkletown on account o' me, an' I think the town is bein' +held back considerable in that way. What's the use havin' a marshal +an' a jail ef nobody comes here to commit crimes? They have to +commit 'em in New York City er Chicago nowadays, jest because it's +safer there than it is here. Look at this last case I had. Wasn't +that arranged in New York? Well, it shouldn't be that way. Even the +train robbers put up their job in New York. I feel that the best +interests of the town would be served ef I resign an' give the +criminals a chance. You all know Ed Higgins. He will ketch 'em if +anybody kin. I move that he be app'inted."</p> +<p>The motion prevailed, as did the vote of thanks, which was +vociferously called for in behalf of Anderson Crow.</p> +<p>"You honour me," said the ex-marshal, when the "ayes" died away. +"I promise to help Marshal Higgins in ever' way possible. I'll tell +him jest what to do in everything. I wish to say that I am not +goin' out of the detective business, however. I'm goin' to open an +agency of my own here. All sorts of detective business will be done +at reasonable prices. I had these cards printed at the +<i>Banner</i> office to-day, an' Mr. Squires is goin' to run an ad. +fer me fer a year in the paper."</p> +<p>He proudly handed a card to the president of the board and then +told the crowd that each person present could have one by applying +to his son Roscoe, who would be waiting in the hallway after the +meeting. The card read:</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">"Anderson Crow, +Detective.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All kinds of cases Taken and +Satisfaction</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Guaranteed.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Berth mysteries a +Specialty."</span></p> +<p>Mrs. Bonner, upon hearing of his resignation the next day, just +as she was leaving for Boston, drily remarked to the +Congressman:</p> +<p>"I still maintain that Anderson Crow is utterly impossible."</p> +<p>No doubt the entire world, aside from the village of Tinkletown, +agrees with her in that opinion.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14818 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14818-h/images/001.jpg b/14818-h/images/001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c127fc --- /dev/null +++ b/14818-h/images/001.jpg diff --git a/14818-h/images/002.png b/14818-h/images/002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 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