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ANDERSON CROW
DETECTIVE
BY GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
Author of "Brewster's Millions," "Truxton King," "Sherry," etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY_
_JOHN T. McCUTCHEON_
NEW YORKDODD, MEAD AND COMPANY1920
COPYRIGHT, 1918, 1919, 1920BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC.
VAIL-BALLOU COMPANYBINGHAMTON AND NEW YORK
_Three seconds later the two youngsters had the ear ofAnderson Crow_]
CONTENTS
A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED
"YOU ARE INVITED TO BE PRESENT"
THE PERFECT END OF A DAY
THE BEST MAN WINS
VICIOUS LUCIUS
THE VEILED LADY AND THE SHADOW
THE ASTONISHING ACTS OF ANNA
NO QUESTIONS ANSWERED
SHADES OF THE GARDEN OF EDEN!
JAKE MILLER HANGS HIMSELF
ILLUSTRATIONS
Three seconds later the two youngsters had the ear of Anderson Crow
"Wha--what was that you said?" gasped her husband, flopping back in theseat
Then, a hundred feet ahead, his lights fell upon the dauntless,abandoned flivver
Words failed Mr. Crow
The Rev. Mr. Maltby, pastor of the Congregational Church, happened to bepassing the town hall
Several heartbroken gentlemen threatened to shoot themselves
"The celebrated Anderson Crow?" asked the man with the glasses
The Marshal started off in the direction of the "shanty"
"I--I surrender! I give in!" he yelled
Something terrible must have happened or Marshal Crow wouldn't besummoned in any such imperative manner as this
In the centre of this group was the new candidate for town marshal
Harry Squires stepped to the front of the platform
When they appeared on the street together
He altered his course, and as she passed him, the flat of the spadelanded with impelling force
Eight or ten people were congregated in front of the Fry house
The veiled lady made her daily excursions in the big high-powered car
Yanking open the screen-door, he plunged headlong into the softlylighted veranda
He was surrounded by conquerors
Over him stood two men with pistols levelled at the white, terrifiedface
"Hold on, Mort!" called out Mr. Crow. "Don't monkey with that trunk"
His wife was now standing guard over it on the porch of the Grand ViewHotel
These smiling, complacent women formed the Death Watch that was towitness the swift, inevitable finish of the Sunlight Bar
At the trial he was shamelessly complimentary about Mrs. Nixon's pie
"I am going to reveal to you the true facts in the case of our latelamented friend, Jake Miller"
ANDERSON CROW, DETECTIVE
A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED
Two events of great importance took place in Tinkletown on the night ofMay 6, 1918. The first, occurring at half-past ten o'clock, was ofsufficient consequence to rouse the entire population out ofbed--thereby creating a situation, almost unique, which allowed everyone in town to participate in all the thrills of the second. When thehistory of Tinkletown is written,--and it is said to be well under wayat the hands of that estimable authoress, Miss Sue Becker, some fiftyyears a resident of the town and the great-granddaughter of one of itsfounders,--when this history is written, the night of May 6, 1918, willassert itself with something of the same insistence that causes theworld to refresh its memory occasionally by looking into theencyclopedia to determine the exact date of the Fall of the Bastile. Thefire-bell atop the town hall heralded the first event, and two smallboys gave notice of the second.
Smock's grain-elevator, on the outskirts of the town, was in flames, andwith a high wind blowing from the west, the Congregational and Baptistchurches, the high school, Pratt's photograph gallery and the twomotion-picture houses were threatened with destruction. As AndersonCrow, now deputy marshal of the town, declared the instant he arrived atthe scene of the conflagration, nothing but the most heroic andindefatigable efforts on the part of the volunteer fire-department couldsave the town--only he put it in this way: "We'll have another Chicagofire here, sure as you're born, unless it rains or the wind changesmighty all-fired sudden; so we got to fight hard, boys."
Mr. Crow, also deputy superintendent of the fire-department, was late ingetting to the engine-house back of the town hall--so late that thehand-engine and hose-reel, manned by volunteers who had waited as longas advisable, were belabouring the fire with water some time before hereached the engine-house. This irritated Mr. Crow considerably. He wasout of breath when he got to the elevator, or some one would have heardfrom him. Another cause of annoyance was the fact that his rubber coatand helmet went with the hose-reel and were by this time adorning theperson of an energetic fire-fighter who had no official right to them.After a diligent search Mr. Crow located his regalia and commanded thewearer, one Patrick Murphy, to hand 'em over at once. What PatrickMurphy, a recent arrival at Tinkletown, said in response to this demandwas lost in the roar of the flames; so Anderson put his hand to his earand shouted:
"What say?"
Patrick repeated his remark with great vigour, and Mr. Crow, apparentlycatching no more than the final word in the sentence, moved hastilyaway, but not before agreeing with Mr. Murphy that it _was_ as hot asthe place he mentioned.
Ed Higgins, the feed-store man, was in charge of the fire-fighters, whowere industriously throwing a single stream of water from thefire-cistern into the vast and towering conflagration. It was liketossing a pint of water into the Atlantic Ocean.
"Got her under control?" roared Anderson, bristling up to Ed.
"Sure!" shouted Ed. "She's workin' beautiful. Just look at that stream.You--"
"I mean the fire," bellowed Anderson.
"Oh, I thought you meant the engine. I don't think we'll get the fireunder contral till the derned warehouse is burned down. Gee whiz, Chief,where you been? We waited as long as we could for you, and then--"
"Don't blame me," was Anderson's answer. "I'd ha' been the first man atthe engine-house if I hadn't waited nigh onto half an hour trying to getthe chief of the fire-department out of bed and dressed. I argued--"
"What's the matter with you? Ain't you chief of the fire-department? Areyou crazy or what?"
"Ain't you got any brains, Ed Higgins? My wife's been chief ever sinceshe was elected marshal last month, an' you know it. That's what we getfer lettin' the women vote an' have a hand in the affairs of the nation.She just wouldn't get up--so I had to come off without her. Where's mytrumpet? We got to get this fire under control, or the whole town willgo. Gosh, if it'd only rain! Looked a little like rain this evenin'--an'this wind may be bringin' up a storm or--"
"Here's your trumpet, Mr. Crow," screeched a small boy, bursting throughthe crowd.
Half of the inhabitants of Tinkletown stood outside of the rim of heatand watched the fire, while the other half, in all stages of deshabille,remained in their front yards training the garden hose on the roofs andsides of their houses and yelling to every speeding passer-by totelephone to the commissioner of water-works to turn on more pressure.Among his other offices, Mr. Crow was commissioner of water-works,having held over in that office because the board of selectmen forgot toappoint any one else in hi
s place after the last election. And while agreat many citizens carried the complaint of the garden-hose handlers tothe commissioner, it is doubtful if he heard them above the combinedsound of his own voice and the roar of the flames.
Possessed of his trumpet, the redoubtable Mr. Crow took his stand besidethe old hand-pumping "fire-engine" and gave orders right and left in avaliant but thoroughly cracked voice.
"Now, we'll git her out," panted Alf Reesling, the town drunkard,speaking to Father Maloney, the Catholic priest, who was taking a turnwith him at the pumping apparatus. "Ed.'s all right, but it takesAnderson to handle a fire as she ought to be handled."
Father Maloney, perspiring copiously and breathing with greatdifficulty, grunted without conviction.
"Leetle more elbow-grease there, men!" shouted Anderson, directing hiscommand to the futile pumpers. "We got to get water up to thatsecond-story winder. More steam, boys--more steam!"
"Aw, what's the use?" growled Bill Jackson, letting go of the pump towipe his dripping forehead. "We couldn't put her out with Niagary Fallsin flood-time."
"Bring your hose over here, men--lively, now!" called out the leader."Every second counts. Lively! Git out o' the way, Purt Throcker! Consarnyou fool boys! Can't you keep back where you belong? Right over here,men! That's the ticket! Now, shoot her into that winder. Hey! One of youboys bust in that winder glass with a rock. All of you! See if you c'nhit her!"
A fusillade of stones left the hands of a score of small boys andclattered against the walls of the doomed warehouse, some of them comingas near as ten feet to the objective, two of them being so wide of themark that simultaneous ejaculations of surprise and pain issued from thelips of Miss Spratt and Professor Smith, both of the high school.
The heat was intense, blistering. Reluctantly the crowd, awed andfascinated by the greatest blaze it had ever seen,--not even exceptingthe burning of Eliphalet Loop's straw-ricks in 1897,--edged farther andfarther away, pursued by the relentless heat-waves. The fire-fighterswithdrew in good order, obeying the instinct of self-preservationsomewhat in advance of the command of their superior, who, indeed, hadanticipated such a man[oe]uvre by taking a position from which he could_lead_ the retreat. By the time the fire was at its height, "lightingthe way clear to heaven," according to Miss Sue Becker, who had toborrow Marshal Crow's pencil and a piece of paper from Mort Fryback sothat she could jot down the beautiful thought before it perished in the"turmoil of frightfulness!"
"More elbow-grease, men!" roared Anderson, "She'll get ahead of us if welet up for a second! Pump! Pump!"
And pump they did, notwithstanding the fact that the stream of waterfrom the nozzle in the hands of Ed Higgins and Petey Cicotte was nowfalling short of the building by some twenty or thirty feet.
"Serves old man Smock right!" declared Anderson in wrath, addressing thetown clerk and two selectmen who by virtue of office retainedadvantageous positions in the front rank of spectators "If he'd done asI told him an' paid fer havin' water-mains extended as fer out as hiswarehouse, we could have saved it fer him. It looks to me now as ifshe's bound to go. Where's Harry?"
Harry Squires, the reporter for The _Banner_, notebook in hand, came upat that instant.
"Looks pretty serious, doesn't it, Chief?" he remarked.
"The fire-company deserves all the credit, Harry," said Andersonmagnanimously. "I want you to put it in the paper, just that way, ascomin' from me. If it hadn't been for the loyal, heroic efforts of thefinest fire-department Tinkletown has ever had, the--Hey! Pull that hoseback here, you derned fools! Do you want to get it scorched an' ruinedso's it won't be fit fer anything agin? Fetch that engine over hereacross the road too! Do you hear me?" Turning again to the reporter, heresumed: "Yes sir, if it hadn't been fer them boys, there wouldn't havebeen a blessed thing saved, Harry."
Harry Squires squinted narrowly. "I can't say that anything _has_ beensaved, Chief. Just mention something, please."
Anderson looked at him in amazement. "Why, ain't you got any eyes?Hain't they saved the engine and every foot of hose the town owns?"
"They could have saved that much by staying at home in bed," said Mr.Squires dryly. "I've just seen Mr. Smock. He says there were fiftythousand bushels of wheat in the bins, waiting for cars to take it downto New York. Every bushel of it was going abroad for the Allies. Doesthat put any sort of an idea into your nut, Anderson?"
"What?"
"Into your bean, I should say. Or, in other words, hair-pasture."
"He means head, Mr. Crow," explained Miss Sue Becker.
"Well, why don't he say head--that's what I'd like to know."
"Do you deduce anything from the fact that the grain was to go to theAllies, Anderson?" inquired Harry.
The harassed marshal scratched his head, but said: "Absolutely!"
"Well, what do you deduce, Mr. Hawkshaw?"
"I deduce, you derned jay, that old man Smock won't be able to deliverit. Move back, will you? You're right in my way, an'--"
"I suppose you know that the Germans are still fighting the Allies,don't you? Fighting 'em here as well as over in France? Now does _that_help you any?"
Mr. Crow's jaw fell--but only for a second. He tightened it up almostimmediately and with commendable dignity.
"My sakes alive, Harry Squires, you don't suppose I'm tellin' my realsuspicions to any newspaper reporter, do you? How do I know you ain't aspy? Still, dog-gone you, if it will set your mind at rest, I'll saythis much: I have positive proof that Smock's warehouse was set on fireby agents of the German gover'ment. That's one of the reasons I was alittle late in gettin' to the fire. Now, don't try to pump me any more,'cause I can't tell you anything that would jeopardize the interests ofjustice. Hey! Where in thunder are you fellers goin' with that hose an'engine?"
The firemen were on a dead run.
"We're goin' a couple of hundred yards down the road, so's we won't bekilled when that front wall caves in," shouted Ed Higgins, withoutpausing. "Better come along, Anderson. She's beginning to bulgesomething awful."
Anderson Crow arose to the occasion.
"Lively now!" he barked through the trumpet. "Get that hose and engineback to a safe place! Can't you see the wall's about ready to fall?Everybody fall back! Women and children first! Women first, remember!"
Down the road fled the crowd, looking over its collective shoulders, soto speak--followed by the venerable fire apparatus and the still morevenerable commander-in-chief.
Harry Squires, in his two-column account of the fire in the _Banner_,dilated upon the fact that the women failed to retain the advantage sogallantly extended by the men. For the matter of about ten or fifteenyards they _were_ first; after which, being handicapped by petticoats,they fell ingloriously behind. Some of the older ones--maliciously, hefeared--impeded the progress of their protectors by neglecting to getout of the way in time, with the result that at least two men wereseverely bruised by falling over them--the case of Uncle Dad Simms beinga particularly sad one. He collided head-on with the portly Mrs. Loop,and failing to budge her, suffered the temporary loss of a full set ofteeth and nearly twenty minutes of consciousness. Mr. Squires went on tosay that the only thing that saved Mr. Simms from being run over andkilled by the fire-engine was the fact that the latter was about a blockand a half ahead of him when the accident occurred.
Sparks soared high and far on the smoke-laden wind, scurrying townwardacross the barren quarry-lands. The vast canopy was red with the glow offlying embers and fire-lit clouds. Below, in the dusty road, swarmed thelong procession of citizens. Grim, stark hemlocks gleamed in the weird,uncanny light that turned the green of their foliage and the black oftheir trunks into the colour of the rose on the side facing the fire,but left them dark and forbidding on the other. The telegraph-polesbeyond the burning warehouse lining the railroad spur that ventured downfrom the main line some miles away and terminated at Smock's, loomed uplike lofty gibbets in the ghastly light. Three quarters of a mile fromthe scene of the conflagration lay the homes of the pe
ople who lived onthe rim of Tinkletown, and there also were the two churches and themotion-picture houses.
"We got to save them picture-houses," panted Anderson, and then in hastyapology,--"and the churches, too."
"You got to save my studio first," bawled Elmer K. Pratt, thephotographer, trying to keep pace with him in the congested line.
"Halt!" commanded the chief, not because tactics called for such anaction but because he was beginning to feel that he couldn't keep upwith the engine.
The cavalcade eased down to a walk and finally came to a halt. Every eyewas riveted on the burning structure which now stood out alone in allits grandeur beyond the quarries and gravel-pits. Every one waited inbreathless suspense for the collapse of the towering walls.
A shrill, boyish voice broke out above the subdued, awe-struck chatterof the crowd.
"Where's Mr. Crow? Mr. Crow! Where are you?"
"Sh!" hissed Alf Reesling, glowering upon the excited boy, who had justcome up at full speed from the direction of the town. "Don't you make somuch noise! The walls are going to cave in, an'--"
"Where's Mr. Crow?" panted the boy, a lad of twelve. His eyes appearedstarting from his head. A second boy joined him, and he was trembling soviolently that he could not speak at all. All he could do was to pointat the lank figure of the old town marshal, some distance back in thecrowd.
Three seconds later the two youngsters had the ear of Anderson Crow, andbetween them they poured it full of news of the most extraordinarycharacter. The crowd, forgetting the imminent crash of the warehousewall, pressed eagerly forward.
"Wait a second--wait a second!" roared Anderson. "One at a time now.Don't both of you talk at oncet. You, Bud--you tell it. You keep still,Roswell Hatch. Take your time, Bud!"
"Lemme tell it, Mr. Crow," begged Roswell. "I knowed it first. It ain'tfair for Bud to--"
"But I got here first," protested Bud, and there might have beensomething more sanguinary than mere words if Marshal Crow had notinterfered.
"None o' that, now! What's the matter, Bud?"
"Somethin' turrible has happened, Mr. Crow--somethin' awfully turrible,"wheezed the boy.
"If you derned little scalawags have run all the way from town to tellme that Smock's warehouse is on fire, you'd--"
"Oh, gee, that ain't nothin'!" gulped Bud. "Wait till you hear what Iknow."
"I can't wait all night. I got to save Mr. Pratt's studio, an'--"
"Well, you know them two tramps you put in the lock-up yesterdayafternoon?" cried Bud.
"Desperit characters, both of 'em. I figgered they was up to somedevilment an--"
"Well, they ain't in any more; they're out. Ros an' me seen the wholebusiness. We wuz--"
"Geminy crickets! What's this? A jail-break? Out of the way, everybody!Two desperit villains are loose in town, an--"
"Hold on, Mr. Crow," cried the other lad, seizing his opportunity."There's more'n two. Three or four more fellers from the outside come upan' busted in the door an' _let_ 'em out. Then they all run down thestreet to where the new bank is. Me an' Bud seen some of 'em climb intoone of the winders of the bank, an' nen we struck out to find you, Mr.Crow. We thought maybe you'd like to know what--"
The rest of Roswell's narrative was lost in the hullabaloo of commandand action. The fickle populace turned its back on the burning warehouseand swept down the lane in quest of new excitement. The tottering wallcame down with a crash, but its fall was unwitnessed except by thoseinfirm old ladies and gentlemen who had lagged so far behind in thefirst rush for safety that they were still in ignorance of the latestcalamity. It was a pity, wrote Miss Sue Becker in her diary, that thegods crowded so much into a single night when there were "three hundredand sixty-four more perfectly good nights available."
The story of the two boys proved not only to be true, but also woefullylacking in exaggeration. The jail-delivery and the looting of the FirstNational Bank of Tinkletown turned out to be but two in a long andfairly complete list of disasters.
Investigation revealed an astonishing thoroughness and impartiality onthe part of the bandits. The safe in Brubaker's drugstore was missing,with something like nineteen dollars in cash; Lamson's store had beenentered, and the cash-register rifled; Fryback's hardware-store,Higgins' feed-store and Rush Applegate's tailor-shop were visited, and,as Harry Squires said in the _Banner_, "contents noted." Two brand-new"shoes" and a couple of inner tubes were missing from Gillespie'sUniversal Garage, and Ed Higgins' dog was slain in cold blood by the"remorseless ravagers."
* * * * *
Nobody went to sleep that night. Everybody joined in the search for therobbers. Citizens hurried home after the first alarm and did their partby looking under every bed in their houses, after which the moreventuresome visited garrets, cellars and woodsheds.
Anderson Crow, after organizing a large posse and commandeering severalautomobiles, suddenly remembered that he had left his silver watch and awallet containing eleven dollars under his pillow. He drove home asrapidly as possible in John Blosser's 1903 Pope-Toledo and wasconsiderably aggravated to find his wife sound asleep. He awoke her withsome rudeness.
"Wake up, Eva! Consarn it, don't you know the town's full of highwaymen?It'd be just like you to sleep here like a log and let 'em come in an'nip my watch an' purse right out o' your own bed. I wouldn't 'a' been abit surprised to find 'em gone--an' you chloryformed and gagged. I--"
"Burglars, did you say?" cried his wife, sitting up in bed and staringat him in alarm.
"Dozens of 'em," he declared, pocketing his watch and wallet. "Get upand help me search the house. Where's my revolver?"
"Oh, Lordy, Anderson! Your--your revolver? You're not going to shoot itoff, are you?"
"I certainly am--if the derned thing's loaded. Where's it at?"
She sank back with a sigh of relief. "Thank heavens, I just rememberedthat Milt Cupples borrowed it last winter to--"
"Borrowed my revolver?" roared Anderson. "Why--"
"To loan to a friend of his'n who was going down to New York onbusiness."
"An' he never brought it back?"
"He never did."
Anderson's opinion of Milt Cupples was smothered in a violent chorus ofautomobile horns. Mrs. Crow promptly covered her head with thebed-clothes and let out a muffled shriek.
"It's only the posse," he shouted, pulling the covers from her face."Don't be scairt, Evy. Where's your courage? Remember who you are.Rememb--"
"I'm only a poor, weak woman--"
"I know that," he agreed, "but that ain't all. You are marshal o'Tinkletown, an' if you're goin' to cover up your head every time a horntoots, you'll--"
"Oh, go on away and leave me alone, Anderson," she cried. "I don't wantto be marshal. I never did. I resign now--do you hear me? I resign thisinstant. I was a fool to let the women elect me--and the women wereworse fools for voting for me. That's what comes of letting women vote.We had a good, well-trained marshal--because that's what you are,Anderson. And--"
The door flew open. Alf Reesling burst into the room, followed by bothof Anderson Crow's daughters.
"Come on, Anderson!" shouted Alf, gasping with excitement. "Good even',Mrs. Crow. Howdy do? Hurry up, Ander--"
"We tried to keep him out, Ma," broke in Caroline Crow, glaring at Alf."We told him you were in bed, but he--"
"Well, gosh a'mighty," cried Alf in exasperation, "we can't wait allnight. We got track o' them fellers, but if we got to set around outhere till mornin' just because your ma's in bed, I--I--well, that's allI got to say." He turned to Anderson for support, and catching the lookin his eye, bawled: "No, I ain't been drinkin', Anderson Crow! I'm assober as a--"
"Get out of my bedroom this minute, Alf Reesling," cried Mrs. Crow."I'll tell your wife how you're behavin' if you--"
"Go ahead an' tell her," snorted Alf, goaded beyond endurance. "Sheain't had a good laugh since the time Anderson had his pocket picked upat Boggs City, fair-week. Go ahead an'--"
"Come on,
Alf--lively now," broke in Mr. Crow hastily. "We got to be onthe jump. Gosh, listen to them dogs! Never heard so much barkin' in allmy life."
Out of the house rushed the two men. Anderson immediately began issuingorders.
"Ed Higgins, you take a squad o' men and go back to the fire. We got ourhands full tonight. Now, all you fellers as has got pistols an' shotgunsgo home an' get 'em at oncet. Come back here as quick as you canan'--what say, Harry?"
He turned to the reporter.
"I said the first thing to do is to shoot about thirty or forty of theseinfernal dogs."
"We can't afford to waste ca'tridges, Harry Squires," said Andersonseverely. "We got to tackle a desperate gang 'fore we're through."
"Where is your daughter Caroline, Mr. Crow?" inquired the reporterirrelevantly.
"She's in the house tryin' to quiet her ma. A drunk man bust into herroom a little while ago an'--"
"Well, tell her to get on the job at once. She's chief telephoneoperator down at the exchange, and she ought to be there now sending outwarnings to every town within twenty miles of--"
"Carrie! Car-ree!" shouted Anderson, racing up the path. "How many timeshave I got to tell you to 'tend to that telephonin'? Go down to theoffice this minute an' call up Boggs City an'--"
"I'm not the _night_ operator," snapped Caroline, appearing in thewindow. "What's the matter with Jane Swiggers and Lucy Cummings? They'resupposed to be on duty all night."
"Don't sass back! Do as I tell you. Telephone every town in the countyto be on the lookout fer an automobile with two tires and a couple ofinner tubes--"
"Two _new_ tires, Caroline," amended Harry Squires.
"And carrying a tin safe with George W. Brubaker's name on it in redletters. Say that a complete description of the robbers will follow. Isyour ma still in bed?"
"Yes, she is."
"Well, you tell her I'll be home soon as I capture them desperadoes." Hewas moving toward the front gate. Caroline's paraphrase pursued him andleft a sting:
"What is home without a father!"
Followed now a lengthy and at times acrimonious argument as to thefurther operations of the marshal's posse.
"We're losing valuable time," protested Harry Squires at the end of ahalf-hour's fertile discussion. _Fertile_ is here employed instead of_futile_, for never was there a more extensive crop of ideas raised byhuman agency.
"We can't do anything till we find out which way the derned rascalswent, can we?" said Mr. Crow bitingly. "We got to find somebody thatseen 'em start off in that automobile. We--"
"Stuff and nonsense!" cried Harry. "We've got to split up into partiesand follow every road out of Tinkletown."
"How in thunder do you expect me to lead five or six different posses?"demanded Anderson.
"Yes, an' what in thunder would we do if we caught up with 'emunexpected-like if we didn't have Anderson with us?" said Alf Reesling,loyal to the core. "In the first place, we wouldn't have any legal rightto capture 'em, and in the second place we couldn't do it anyhow."
By this time there were a dozen shotguns on the scene, to say nothing ofa most impressive collection of antiquated revolvers, "Flobert" rifles,Civil War muskets and baseball bats.
"I move we move," was the laconic but excellent speech of Mr. HenryPlumb. He already had his forefinger on the trigger of his"single-barrel."
"Second the motion," cried out Ed Higgins loudly.
"I thought I told you to go an' 'tend to that fire, Ed Higgins," saidAnderson, in some surprise.
An extremely noisy dog-fight put an end to the discussion for the timebeing, and it was too late to renew it after Situate Jones' mongrel Petehad finished with Otto Schultz's dachshund Bismarck. So vociferous wasthe chorus put up by the other dogs that no one noticed the approach ofan automobile, coming down the Boggs City pike. The car passed at fullspeed. Three dogs failed to get out of the way in time, and as a result,the list of casualties was increased to four, including Ed Higgins'previously mentioned black and tan.
The speeding car, a big one loaded with men, was a hundred yards awayand going like the wind before the startled group regained its senses.
"There they go!" yelled Harry Squires.
"Exceedin' the speed limit, dog-gone 'em!" roared Anderson. "They oughtto be locked up fer ten days an' fined--"
"Come on, men!" shouted Harry. "After 'em! That's the gang! They've beenheaded off at Boggs City--or something like that."
"Did anybody ketch the number of that car?" shouted Anderson. "I c'ntrace 'em by their license number if--"
The rest of the speech was lost in the rush to enter the waitingautomobiles, and the shouting that ensued. Then followed a period offrantic cranking, after which came the hasty backing and turning ofcars, the tooting of horns and the panic of gears.
Loaded to the "gunnels," the half-dozen machines finally got under way,and off they went into the night, chortling with an excitement all theirown.
A lone figure remained standing in front of Anderson Crow's gate--atall, lank figure without coat or hat, one suspender supporting a pairof blue trousers, the other hanging limp and useless. He wore a redundershirt and carried in his left hand the trumpet of a fire-fightingchieftain.
"Well, I'll be dog-goned!" issued from his lips as the last of the carsrattled away. Then he started off bravely on foot in the wake of thenoisy cavalcade. "Now, all of 'em are breakin' the speed laws; an' it'sgoin' to cost 'em somethin', consarn 'em, when I yank 'em up 'foreJustice Robb tomorrow, sure as my name's Anderson Crow."
Presently he heard a car approaching from behind. It was very dark inthe outskirts of the town, and the lonely highway that reached down intothe valley was a thing of the imagination rather than of the vision.Profiting by the catastrophes that attended the passing of the bigtouring-car Anderson hastily leaped to the side of the road. A couple ofsmall headlights veered around a curve in the road and came down theslight grade, followed naturally and somewhat haltingly by an automobilewhose timorous brakes were half set. There was a single occupant.
Anderson levelled his trumpet at the driver and shouted:
"Halt!"
"Oh-h!" came in a shrill, agitated voice from the car, but the machinegave no sign of halting.
"Hey! Halt, I say!"
"I--I don't know how!" moaned the voice. "How do you stop it?"
"Good gracious sakes alive! Is--is it _you_, Eva?"
"Oh, Anderson! Thank goodness! I thought you was a highwayman. Oh,dear--oh, dear! Ain't there any way to stop this thing?"
"Shut off the power, an' it'll stop when you start up the grade."
Anderson was trotting along behind, tugging at one of the mud-guards.
"How do you shut it off?"
"The same way you turned it on."
"Goodness, what a fool way to do things!"
The little car came to a stop on the rise of the grade, and Andersonside-stepped just in time to avoid being bumped into as it started backagain, released.
"It's Deacon Rank's car," explained Mrs. Crow in response to a series ofbewildered, rapid-fire questions from her husband. "He offered to sellit to me for fifty dollars, and I've been learnin' how to run it for twowhole days--out in Peters' Mill lane."
"How does it happen I never knowed anything about this, Eva?" demandedhe, regaining in some measure his tone of authority.
"I wanted to surprise you."
"Well, by gosh, you have!"
"Deacon Rank's been giving me lessons every afternoon. I know how tostart it and steer it, goin' slow-like--but of course I've got a lot tolearn."
"Well, you just turn that car around an' skedaddle for home, Eva Crow,"was his command. "What business have you got runnin' around the countrylike this in the dead o' night, all alone--"
"Ain't I the Marshal of Tinkletown?" she broke in crossly. "What righthave all you men to be going off without me in this--"
"The only official thing you've done, madam, since you got to bemarshal, was to resign while you was in bed not more'n an ho
ur ago. Iaccepted your resignation, so now you go home as quick as that blamedold rattletrap will take you."
"Besides, I saw the ornery fools go off an' leave you behind, Anderson,and that made me mad. I run over to Deacon Rank's and got the car. Now,you hop right in, and I'll take you wherever you want to go. Get in, Isay. I hereby officially withdraw my resignation. I'm still marshal ofthis town, and if you don't do as I tell you, I'll discharge you asdeputy."
So Anderson got up beside her and pulled desperately at hischin-whiskers, no doubt to assist the words that were struggling toescape from his compressed lips.
After considerable back-firing, the decrepit machine began to climb thegrade. Presently Mr. Crow found his voice.
"Didn't I tell you to turn around, Eva?"
"Don't talk to me when I'm driving," said she, gripping the wheeltightly with the fingers of death.
"You turn the car around immediately, woman. I'm your husband, an' Iorder you to do as I tell ye!"
"I'll turn it around when I get good and ready," said she in a strainedvoice. "Can't you see there ain't room enough to turn around in thisroad?"
"Well, it don't get any wider."
"Besides, I don't know how to turn it around," she confessed.
"Why, you just back her, same as anybody else does, an' then reverseher, an'--"
"You old goose, how can I back her when she keeps on going for'ard?"
Anderson was silent for a moment.
"Well, if I may be so bold as to ask, madam, where are you going?" heasked, with deep sarcasm in his voice.
"You leave it to me, Anderson Crow. I know what I am doing."
They went on for about a quarter of a mile before she spoke again.
"There's only one way to turn around, and I'm taking it. How far is itto Fisher's lane?"
"You can't turn her around in Fisher's lane, Eva. It's all a good-sizeddog c'n do to turn around in that road."
"I asked you how far is it?"
"'Bout a mile an' a half."
"I ain't going to turn around in Fisher's lane, Anderson. I'm going tofoller it straight to the Britton toll-road, and then I'm going to turninto that and head for Tinkletown. That's how I'm going to turn thisplagued car around."
"Well, of all the--why, geminently, Eva, it's--it's nigh onto nine mile.You shorely can't be such a fool as to--"
"I'm going to turn this car around if it takes twenty miles," she saidfirmly.
There was another long, intense silence.
"I wonder if the boys have got that fire out yet?" mumbled Anderson."Course, there ain't no use worryin' about them robbers. They got away.If I'd been along with that posse, we'd 'a' had 'em sure by this time,but--oh, well, there ain't no use cryin' over spilt milk."
In due time they came to Fisher's lane. Mrs. Crow made a very sharp buttriumphant turn, and the second leg of the course was before them. Halfan hour later the valiant machine sneaked out of the narrow byway intothe Britton pike and pointed its nose homeward.
"Let her out a little, Eva," said Anderson, taking a long breath. "It'sfour mile to town, an'--"
"Oh, goodness!" squeaked the driver, giving the wheel a perilous twist."Look! There comes a car behind us. Help! They'll run into us!They'll--"
"Pull off to the side of the road--no, this side! Gosh! Hurry up, Eva.They're comin' like greased lightnin'! Look out! Not too fer over!There's a ditch alongside--"
The remainder of the sentence was lost in the wild shriek of a siren,shriek after shriek succeeding each other as a big car, withfar-reaching acetylene lamps, roared down upon them. Like a mightywhirlwind it swept by them, careening perilously on the sloping edge ofthe road. Suddenly the grinding of brakes assailed the ears of thethanksgiving Crows, and to their astonishment the big machine came to astandstill a hundred yards or more down the road. Mrs. Crow promptly"put on" the accelerator, and but for a vehement warning from herhusband would have gone full tilt into the rear end of the mightystranger. She managed to stop the little car when its faithful nose wasnot more than two yards from the little red light ahead.
"Hey, Ford!" called out a man who had arisen in the tonneau of the bigcar and was looking back at them.
"Hey, yourself!" responded Anderson.
"Is this the road to Albany?"
"No, it ain't."
"We've lost our way. Where does this road take us?"
"Into the city of Tinkletown."
Three or four voices in the car were guilty of saying things in thepresence of a lady.
"Well, where in hell are we?" demanded the spokesman.
"You ain't in hell yet, but you will be pretty soon if you keep up thatreckless driving, lemme tell you that."
"Where do we get the Albany road?" called out another voice from thecar.
"The quickest way is to go into Tinkletown an' take the first turn tothe left after--"
"But we don't want to go to Tinkletown, you damned old hayseed. We--"
"Shut up, Joe!" cried one of the men. "He's excited, Mister. His wife'ssick, and we're trying to get him home before she--before she croaks."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," cried Mrs. Crow before Anderson could speak. Shealso kicked him violently on the ankle-bone. "The quickest way to get tothe Albany road," she went on, "is by cuttin' through back of Cole'ssawmill an' crossin' the river at Goose's Ferry. That's about sevenmiles from here. Take the first lane to your left, half a mile furtheron."
"Much obliged, ma'am."
"You're entirely welcome," said she, this time poking her elbow intoAnderson's ribs. He grunted.
"Is the road pretty good all the way?"
"It's a good dirt road."
"We're in a great hurry, ma'am. Is it safe to hit it up a little on thedirt-road? His wife specially wanted to see him before she died."
"Perfectly safe, as long as you keep _in_ it."
"Nightie!" called the spokesman, and the big car leaped forward as ifsuddenly unchained.
"Well, of all the--" began Anderson wrathfully.
"Get out and crank this car, Anderson," she broke in excitedly.
"You know as well as I do that that dirt road ends at Heffner's farm. Itdon't go nowheres near the river. What ails you, Eva Crow? That poorfeller's wife--"
"Crank, I tell you!"
He got out and cranked the car, grumbling all the while. As he got backin the seat beside her, he exploded:
"An' what's more, there's that soldiers' camp at Green Ridge. They won'tbe allowed to go through it without a pass. There must be a thousand menthere. They're marchin' to some'eres in America, the feller told me thismornin' when he come in at Jackson's to get some smokin' terbaccer. Campat Green Ridge fer two days, he says, an' then--Hey! Don't drive soblamed reckless, Eva! Can't you get her under control? Put on yourbrakes, woman! She'll--"
"Hush up, Anderson. You let me alone."
The little old car was sailing along at a speed that caused every jointto rattle with joy unconfined. To Anderson's amazement, and to a certainextent consternation, Mrs. Crow swung into the dirt-road over which thebig car was now whizzing a mile or so ahead.
"Here! Where you going?" barked Anderson, arising from the seat.
"There's going to be hell to pay before you know it, Anderson Crow,"said she, her voice high and squeaky.
"Wha-what was that you said?" gasped her husband, flopping back in theseat. He couldn't believe his ears.
_"Wha--what was that you said?" gasped her husband,flopping back in the seat_]
"I learned that from my predecessor in office," she replied somewhatguiltily. "I've heard you say it a million times."
"But I ain't no woman. I--"
"Set still! Do you want to fall out and break your neck?"
And Anderson sat still, dazed and helpless in the direful presence of awoman who, to his utter horror, had gone violently insane. He begansilently but urgently to pray that the gasoline would give out, when hewould find himself in a position to reason with her, gently or forciblyas the situation demanded. He broke int
o a profuse and chillyperspiration. His wife crazy! His wife of forty years! His old comrade!
He was aroused from these horrifying, sickening reflections by a hoarsebut imperative word coming from nowhere out of the darkness of the roadahead.
"Halt!"
Mrs. Crow put on the brakes.
"Who goes there?"
"Friends!" faltered Mrs. Crow.
"The marshal of Tinkletown," added Anderson, vastly relieved by hersingularly intelligent answer.
"Advance and give the countersign!"
"All right. What is it?" inquired Mrs. Crow.
A couple of non-commissioned officers joined the sentry at this moment.They were but half dressed.
"What the devil's the meaning of all this?" exclaimed one of them,planting himself beside the car and flashing a light in Mrs. Crow'sface. "Don't you hayseeds know any better than to bust into a militarycamp--"
His companion interrupted him. "Keep your shirt on, Bill. Didn't I hearthe man say he was the marshal of Tinkletown?"
"No, sir, you didn't! I said _we_ are the marshal of Tinkletown. I--"
"All right, all right. Do you happen to be chasin' a gang ofjoy-riders?"
"We do--we are!" cried Mrs. Crow.
"They zipped through this camp like a rifle-shot about ten minutes ago.They've raised a lovely row. Officer of the day bawlin' everybody out,and--Here, hold on!"
"We've just got to catch them men," pleaded Mrs. Crow.
"One of 'em's got a sick wife," added Anderson, "an' we've got to tellhim he's on the wrong road."
"Well, you just sit right where you are," spoke the top sergeant."They'll be back this way in a few minutes. This road ends about a mileabove here, and they'll have to come back. The sentries say they wentthrough here so fast they couldn't see anything but wind."
"Are you going to stop them?" cried Mrs. Crow eagerly.
"We sure are," said the other non-com. "See that bunch of men formingover there? Well, they've got real guns and real bullets, and they'remad, Mrs. Marshal. You can't blame 'em."
Off at one side of the road a little distance away a company of soldierswas lining up. The sharp command of an officer rang out.
"Thank goodness!" cried Mrs. Crow.
"Look here, Eva," said Anderson nervously. "I guess you'd better pulloff to one side of the road, just in case them soldiers don't stop 'em.We're right smack in their way, an' gosh only knows where we'd land ifthey smashed into us. It'd take a week to find us, we'd be so scatteredabout."
"Don't be uneasy," said the top sergeant. "They'll stop, all right, allright."
"Let me whisper something to you, Mr. Officer," said Mrs. Crow. "It'svery important."
He obligingly held up an ear, and she leaned down and spoke rapidly,earnestly into it.
"You don't say so!" he cried out. "Excuse _me_!" And off he dashed,calling out to his companion to follow.
A minute later the most extraordinary activity affected the group ofsoldiers over the way. Commands were now issued in lowered tones, andmen marched rapidly away, dividing into squads.
"What did you say to that feller?" demanded Anderson.
"I told him who those men are, Anderson Crow."
"You couldn't. They're perfect strangers. If they wasn't, how'd theyhappen to miss the road?"
"They are the very men I'm looking for," said she. "They're therobbers,--and the men who set fire to Smock's warehouse, I'll betyou--and everything else!"
"Jumpin' Jehoshaphat!"
An officer rushed up.
"Turn that flivver around in the middle of the road and jump out quick.That will stop them. Let 'em smash it up if necessary. It isn't worthmore than ten dollars."
While a half-dozen men were dragging the car into position as abarricade, Mrs. Crow exclaimed to her husband:
"That old skinflint! He said it was cheap at fifty dollars. Thankgoodness, I--"
But Anderson was hustling her out of the car. In the distance theheadlights of the bandits' car burst into view as it swung around a bendin the road.
Soldiers everywhere! They seemed to have sprung out of the ground. Oncame the big car, thundering into the trap. Bugle-calls sounded; acouple of guns blazed into the air as the car flew past the outposts,lights flared suddenly in the path of bewildered occupants, and loudimperative commands rang out on the air.
Into the gantlet of guns the big car rushed. The man at the wheel bentlow and took the reckless chance of getting through.
Then, a hundred feet ahead, his lights fell upon the dauntless abandonedflivver. He jerked frantically at the brakes.
_Then, a hundred feet ahead, his lights fell upon thedauntless, abandoned flivver_]
"Halt!" shouted Anderson Crow from the top of the roadside bank."Surrender in the name of the Law!"
He spoke just in time.
Crash! They halted!
Deacon Rank's little car died a glorious, spectacular death. (HarrySquires, in his account, placed it all alone in the list of"unidentified dead.")
Three minutes after the collision, brawny soldiers were bending over thestretched-out figures of five unconscious men.
Mr. and Mrs. Crow stood on the edge of the group, awe-struck and silent.
"They're coming around, all right," said some one at Anderson's elbow."He was slowing down when they struck. But there's no hope for the poorold flivver."
Anderson found his voice--a quavering, uncertain voice--and exclaimed:
"Stand aside, men! I am the marshal of Tinkletown, an' them scoundrelsare my prisoners."
His progress was barred by a couple of soldiers. An officer approached.
"Easy, Mr. Marshal--easy, now. This is our affair, you know. I guessyou'd better come with me to the colonel. Don't be alarmed. They shan'tescape."
"They're mighty desperit characters--" began Anderson.
"Step this way, please," said the other shortly.
* * * * *
It was four o'clock in the morning when Mr. and Mrs. Crow were depositedat their front door by the colonel's automobile. The robbers, underheavy guard, remained in the camp, pending action on the part of thecivic authorities. They were very much alive and kicking when Andersonleft them, after a pompous harangue on the futility of crime in thatneck of the woods.
"Yes, sir, Colonel," he said, turning to the camp commander, "a crookain't got any more chance than a snowball in--you know--when he tries topull the wool over my eyes. I've been ketchin' thieves and bandits an'the Lord knows what-all for forty years er more, an' so forth. I want tothank you, sir, an' your brave soldier boys--an' the United StatesGovernment also--fer the assistance you have given me tonight. I doubtvery much whether I could 'a' took 'em single-handed--handicapped as Iwas by havin' a woman along. An' when you git over to France with thesebrave troops of yours, I c'n tell you one thing: the Kaiser'll know it,you bet! Never mind about the old car. It's seen its best days. An' itain't mine, anyhow. I'll be out here bright and early tomorrow morningwith my posse, an' we'll take them fellers off'm your hands. If you'llexcuse me now, I guess I'll be movin' along to'ards home. I've still gota fire to put out, an' a lot of other things to do besides. I've got tolet the bank know I have recovered their money an' left it in goodhands, an' I've got to send a posse out to see if they c'n locate GeorgeBrubaker's safe along the road anywheres. An' what's more, I've got torepair the jail, and officially notify Deacon Rank he's had an accidentto his car."
Mrs. Crow had little to say until she was snugly in bed. Her husband wasgetting into his official garments.
"I think you're foolish to go out again, Anderson," she said. "It's notdaylight yet. There won't be anybody around, this time of day, to listento how you captured those robbers,--and--"
"Don't you believe it," said he. "I bet you fifty cents you are the onlyperson in Tinkletown that's in bed at this minute. They're all _afraid_to go to bed, Eva, an' you can't blame 'em. Nobody knows I've got themdesperadoes bound hand and foot and guarded by a whole regiment of U.
S.troops, specially deputized for the occasion."
Anderson Crow, Detective Page 1
