Anderson Crow

“ 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.
"We'll beat them to Bracken's by a mile," cried Jack Barnes.
"If they don't shoot us," she responded. "Why, oh, why are they so intent upon killing us?"
"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." ”

“ 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. ”

“ Anderson Crow's policy was to always look at things through the small end of the telescope.
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. ”

“ 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—
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! ”

“ 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.
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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 Banner, 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. ”

“ Over in the far corner of the field a flock of crows flew up from the waving corn. A white horse, drawing a buggy, was trotting along the road by the side of the cornfield. The driver had scared Mr. Jim Crow and all his chums. They flapped their big black wings as they flew. And they flew very straight, not like the pretty barn-swallows with their dark-blue wings. The swallow is a happy bird and skims and dances in the air like a fancy skater on the ice. But Mr. Jim Crow flies like an arrow. That is because he is always up to some mischief and forever running away when someone finds him out. ”

“ I call for volunteers! Who will join me in the search?" cried the marshal bravely.
"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."
"It's our duty to catch him. He's a criminal, and besides, he's killed a man," said Crow severely.
"And he has twenty-one dollars of your money," added Harry Squires. "I'll go with you, Anderson. I've got a revolver."
"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. ”

“ And all Tinkletown called upon Anderson Crow to solve the mystery before it was a day older.
"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'. ”

“ A dozen men heard him say it, and they remembered it word for word.
"You go scratch yourself!" retorted Anderson Crow scornfully. That was supposed to be a terrible challenge, but the stranger took no notice of it.
"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." ”

“ 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.
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. ”

“ Crow sent me to tell you if you didn't come home to supper this minute, you wouldn't git any," called out a boy from the outskirts of the crowd.
"That's the second wireless shock you've had today, Anderson," said Harry Squires, drily, and slowly closed one eye.
THE BEST MAN WINS! Anderson Crow Meets His Waterloo and His Marne
For sixteen consecutive years Anderson Crow had been the Marshal of Tinkletown. A hiatus of two years separated this period of service from another which, according to persons of apparently infallible memory, ran through an unbroken stretch of twenty-two years. ”

“ 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."
Anderson was too amazed to act at once. He began to flounder interrogatively, but the visitor abruptly checked him.
"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? ”

“ 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. ”

“ Gregory, the insurance—" began Anderson Crow, but he was cut short.
"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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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.
"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.
"Say, Anderson, isn't it a little queer that he should sell out so cheap?" asked Harry Squires, the local reporter and pressfeeder. ”

“ 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.
"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."
"Why, Daddy Crow, he was the most heartless brute in the world!" cried Rosalie. ”

“ We can get along without three cheers for Tinkletown! To announce that the name of Anderson Crow is hereby withdrawn from the consideration of this convention for the—er—the nomination for Town Marshal. Mr. Crow positively declines to make the race. It is not necessary for me to dilate upon the manifold virtues and accomplishments of our distinguished marshal. His fame extends to the uttermost corners of the earth. ”

“ Crow was momentarily overwhelmed.
“Oh, I—I guess I'm not much different from other men, ma'am. I'm not half as important as folks make me out to be.”
“How nice and modest you are! 'That is the true sign of greatness, Mr. Crow. I might have known that you would be simple.”
“Simple?” murmured Anderson, to whom the word had but one meaning. He thought of Willie Jones, the village idiot. ' “'Simplicity, thou art a jewel,'” observed the Veiled Lady. “Will you pardon a somewhat leading question, Mr. Crow?” ”

“ When Anderson Crow and half of Tinkletown, routed out en masse 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. ”

“ Anderson's opinion of Milt Cupples was smothered in a violent chorus of automobile horns. Mrs. Crow promptly covered her head with the bed-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 horn toots, you'll—"
"Oh, go on away and leave me alone, Anderson," she cried. "I don't want to be marshal. ”

“ You always fly into such a temper. If you'd only let me attend to the small things, while you look out for the big ones, we'd get along so much better. Wouldn't we, Mr. Crow?”
She appealed to Mr. Crow so abruptly and so sweetly that he said he guessed so before he could check himself.
“If you will stay here until we find a key that will fit, Mr. Crow, you will see with your own eyes what will make your eyes pop out of your head.”
“Mort, you keep away from that box, I say!” commanded Anderson, now sure of his ground. “Do you want to get bit?” ”

“ Crow. "Where's the cellar at?"
"There ain't none," replied Elon Jones.
"What? No cellar? Well, where in thunder did they hide the body, then?"
"There's an attic," ventured Joe Perkins.
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.
"Find it?" said he thickly, with a cunning leer. ”

“ 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 both of 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 all night. ”