Anderson Crow, Detective
THE ASTONISHING ACTS OF ANNA
The case of Loop vs. Loop was docketed for the September term in theBramble County Circuit Court at Boggs City. When it became officiallyknown in Tinkletown, through the columns of the _Banner_, that EliphaletLoop had brought suit for divorce against his wife Anna, the townexperienced a convulsion that bore symptoms of continuing withoutabatement until snow fell, and perhaps--depending on the evidenceintroduced--throughout the entire winter. For Eliphalet, in accusing hiswife, was obliged to state in his bill that the identity and whereaboutsof "said co-respondent" were at present unknown to complainant. As Mrs.Loop emphatically--some said spitefully--declined to satisfy thecuriosity of Mr. Loop, and the whole of Tinkletown as well, speculationtook such an impatient attitude toward her that Eliphalet, had he beenminded to do so, could have made use of any one of three hundred namesin a village boasting an adult male population of three hundred andseventeen. Husbands who had been in the habit of loafing around thevillage stores for a couple of hours after supper, winter and summer,now felt constrained to remain later than usual for fear thatevil-minded persons outstaying them might question the statement thatthey were going home; and many a wife who was seldom awake after ninestayed up until the man of the house was safely inside, where she couldlook at him with an intentness so strange that he began to develop aferocious hatred for Mrs. Loop.
The town marshal, Anderson Crow, encountering the lugubrious Eliphaletin front of Dr. Brown's office early one morning several weeks after thefiling of the complaint, put this question to him:
"See here, Liff, why in thunder don't you make that wife o' yourn tellwho 'tis she's been carryin' on with?"
Mr. Loop was not offended. He was not even embarrassed.
"'Cause I ain't speakin' to her nowadays, that's why."
"But you got a right to speak to her, ain't you? She's livin' in thesame house with you, ain't she? An' it's _your_ house, ain't it? Standup to her. Show her you got a little spunk."
"I been livin' out in the barn, Anderson, on the advice of my lawyer. Hesays as long as she won't git out, I've got to. Been sleepin' out therefor the last three weeks."
"I'd like to see any woman drive me out of a comfortable bed!"
"I don't a bit mind sleepin' in the barn," said Eliphalet in apology."It's kind of a relief to get away from them women. Hosses can't talk. Idon't know as I've ever slept as well as I have--"
"The point is," broke in Anderson firmly, "this wife of yourn is causin'a great deal of misery in town, Liff. Somethin's got to be done aboutit."
"I ain't askin' anybody to share my misery with me," said Mr. Loop withsome asperity.
"I bet I've heard fifty men's names mentioned in the last twenty-fourhours," said Anderson, compressing his lips. "'Tain't fair, Liff, an'you know it."
"'Tain't my fault," said Mr. Loop stubbornly. "I won't ask her ag'in.You wouldn't either, if you'd got a wallop over the head with astove-lid like I did when I asked her the first time." He removed hisweather-worn straw hat. "See that? Doc Brown had to take seven stitchesin it, an' he says if old Hawkins the undertaker had seen it first, Iwouldn't have had to send for a doctor at all. You ask her yourself, ifyou're so blamed anxious to know. I seen her out in the back yard just'fore I left. She was lookin' kinder sad and down in the mouth; so I sezto her as gentle as I knowed how--an' as legally as possible, on theadvice of my lawyer: 'Good mornin', Mrs. Loop.' An' then when I seen herlookin' around for somethin' to throw at me, I knowed it wasn't any usetryin' to be polite, so I sez: 'Git out o' my sight, you old cow!' And'fore you could say scat, she was out o' my sight. I didn't know it waspossible for me to be so spry at _my_ age. Just as she was gettin' outo' my sight by me gettin' around the corner of the barn, I heardsomethin' go ker-slam ag'inst the side of the barn, but I don't knowwhat it was. Sounded like a milk-crock."
Anderson looked at him sorrowfully. "Well, you can't say I didn't warnyou, Liff."
"Warn me about what?"
"'Bout advertisin' fer a wife. I told you no good could come of it. An'now I guess you'll agree that I was right."
"Oh, shucks! Anna was as good a woman as I ever had, Andy Crow, an' Idon't know as I ever had a better worker around the place. Fer two yearsshe--"
He choked up and began to sniffle.
"There ain't no denyin' the fact she lasted longer'n any of 'em," agreedAnderson. "I don't just exactly remember how many funerals you've had,Liff, but--say, just out o' curiosity, how many have you had? Me an'Mrs. Crow had a dispute about it last evenin'."
"It's cost me a lot o' money, Anderson, a turrible lot o' money,"groaned Eliphalet, "what with doctors' bills an' coffins; an'nothin'--absolutely nothin'--to show fer it! No children, no--nothin'but mother-in-laws an' tombstones. By gosh, why is it mother-in-lawslast so long? I've got five mother-in-laws livin' this minute, an' thegood Lord knows I never done anything to encourage 'em. I've lost fourwives an' not a single mother-in-law. It don't seem right--now, doesit, Anderson?"
"Well, if you'd married somebody nearer your own age, Liff, you mightstand some chance of out-livin' their mothers. But you been marryin'women anywheres from fifty to sixty years younger'n you are. You must bederned near eighty."
"If you git 'em too old, they're allus complainin' about doin' the workaround the house and garden, an' then you got to git a hired girl.Specially the washin'!"
"Seems to me it'd be cheaper in the long run to work a hired girl todeath rather than a wife," said Anderson tartly.
"Most generally it is," agreed Mr. Loop. "But I sorter got into thehabit of marryin' hired girls, figgerin' they make the best kind ofwives. I give 'em a good home, plenty to eat an'--" His eyes roamedaloft, as if searching for some other beneficence, and finally lightingon Dr. Brown's door-plate, found something to clinch his argument. "An'as fine a funeral as any woman could ask fer!" he concluded.
"Let's git back to the main question," said Anderson unfeelingly. Hedidn't have much use for Eliphalet. "What fer sort of lookin' feller isthis man your wife's been carryin' on with?"
"Well," began Mr. Loop, squinting his bleary eyes reflectively, "I ain'tnever seen him 'cept when he was runnin', an' it was after darkbesides. Twice I seen him jump out of one of our back winders when I gothome earlier'n usual from lodge-meetin'. First time I made out he was aburglar an' hustled in to see if he had took anything. You see, I alluskeep my pocketbook in a burey drawer in our bedroom; an' natcherly, asit was our bedroom winder he jumped out of, I--well, natcherly I'd be alittle uneasy, wouldn't I?"
"Specially if you thought your wife might 'a' been rendered insensibleby the robber," said Anderson.
"Natcherly," said Mr. Loop quickly. "Course, I thought of her first ofall. Well, after I went to the burey an' found the pocketbook all safe,I asked Anna if she'd heard anybody tryin' to get in through the winder.She looked kinder funny-like fer a second er two an' then said no, shehadn't. I told her what I'd seen, and she said I must be drunk ersomethin', 'cause she'd been in the room all the time havin' a bite ofsomethin' to eat 'fore goin' to bed. I never saw anybody that could eatmore'n that woman, Anderson. She's allus eatin'. Course I believed her_that_ time, 'cause there was a plate o' cold ham an' some salt-risin'biscuits an', oh, a lot of other victuals on the washstand, with onlyone knife an' fork. Her mother was sound asleep in her room upstairs;an' her sister Gertie,--who come to visit us six months ago an' is stillvisitin' us an' eatin' more'n any two hired men you ever saw,--Gertie,she was out in the kitchen readin' that Swede paper my wife takes. An'she said she didn't hear anybody either, an' up and told Anna she'd beafraid to live with a man that come home drunk every night in the weeklike I did. She's the meanest woman I ever see, Anderson. She--"
"I don't want to hear about that side of your wife's relations,Eliphalet Loop," interposed Anderson.
"Well," said Eliphalet patiently, "I kinder figered I might 'a' beenmistaken about seein' him that first time, but when the same thinghappened ag'in on the night I went over to set up with Jim Hooper'scorpse, why,
I jest natcherly begin to think it was kinder funny. Whatset me thinkin' harder'n ever was finding' a man's hat in my room,hangin' on the back of a chair. Thinks I, that's mighty funny--speciallyas the hat wasn't mine."
"What kind of a hat was it?" questioned Anderson, taking out hisnotebook and pencil. "Describe it carefully, Liff."
"It was a grey fewdory," said Mr. Loop.
"The one you been wearin' to church lately?"
"Yes. I thought I might as well be wearin' it, long as nobody claimedit," explained the ingenuous husband of Anna. "It was a couple of sizestoo big fer me, so I stuffed some paper inside the sweat-band. I allushate to have a hat comin' down on my ears, don't you? Kinder spreads 'emout."
"Well, the first thing we've got to do, Liff, is to find some one witha head two sizes bigger'n yours," said Anderson, giving his whiskers aslow, speculative twist.
"That oughtn't to be hard to do," said Eliphalet without hesitation. "Iwear a five an' three-quarters. Most everybody I know wears a bigger hatthan I do."
"That makes it more difficult," admitted Anderson. "Was it bought inTinkletown or Boggs City?"
"It had a New York label stamped on the sweat-band."
"Bring it down to my office, Liff, so's I c'n examine it carefully. Now,when did you next see this man?"
"'Bout two weeks after the second time--up in our cow-pasture. He wassettin' beside Anna on some rails back of the corn-crib, an' he had hisarm around her--or part way round, anyhow; she's a turrible thick woman.Been fattenin' up somethin' awful in the last two years. I snook up an'looked at 'em through the blackberry bushes, layin' flat so's theycouldn't see me."
"Was that all you did?"
"What else could I do?" demanded Mr. Loop in some surprise.
"Why, you could have tackled him right then an' there, couldn't you?"
"Didn't I tell you there was two of 'em?"
"Two men?"
"No. Him an' Anna. You don't suppose I could lick _both_ of 'em, do you?I bet there ain't a man in town--'cept that blacksmith, BillKepsal--that c'n lick Anna single-handed. Besides, I ain't half the manI used to be. I'm purty nigh eighty, Anderson. If I'd been four or fiveyears younger, I'd ha' showed him, you bet."
"Umph!" was Mr. Crow's comment. "How long did they set there?"
"I can't just perzactly say. They was gone when I woke up!"
"When you what?"
"Woke up. It was gittin' purty late, long past my bedtime, an' I'd had ahard day's work. I guess I muster fell asleep."
"Was Mrs. Loop up when you got back home?"
"Yes, she was up."
"What did you say to her?"
"I--I didn't git a chance to say anything," said Eliphalet mournfully."All three of 'em was eatin' breakfast, an' I got the most awfultongue-lashin' you ever heard. 'Cused me of everything under the sun. Icouldn't eat a mouthful."
"Served you right," said Anderson sternly. "Well, did you ever see himag'in?"
"I ain't sayin' as it was the same feller," qualified Mr. Loop, "butlast night I seen a man streakin' through the potato-patch lickety-splitsome'eres round nine o'clock. He was carryin' a bundle an' was allstooped over. I yelled at him to stop er I'd fire. That seemed to makehim run a little faster, so I took after him, an' run smack into Annacomin' round the corner of the hen-roost. Soon as I got my breath, Iasked her what in tarnation she was doin' out at that time o' night."
"Well, go on. What did she say?" demanded Anderson as Mr. Loop paused towipe his forehead.
"She--she insulted me," said Mr. Loop.
"How?" inquired Marshal Crow sceptically.
"She called me a skunk."
Mr. Crow was silent for some time, tugging at his whiskers. He staredintently at the upper corner of Dr. Brown's cottage. His lip twitchedslightly. Presently, feeling that he could trust his voice, he asked:
"Why don't you offer a reward, Liff?"
"I thought of doin' that," said Mr. Loop, but a trifle half-heartedly.
"If you offer a big enough reward, I'll find out who the feller is,"said Anderson. "Course, you understand it ain't my duty as marshal toferret out matrimonial mysteries. I'd have to tackle it in my capacityas a private detective. An' you couldn't hardly expect me to do all thisextry work without bein' paid fer it."
Mr. Loop scratched his head. Then he scratched a small furrow in thegravel roadway with the toe of one of his boots.
"Well, you see, I got to pay a lawyer right smart of a fee; an'besides--"
Anderson interrupted him sternly. "You owe it to your feller-citizens toclear up this mystery. You surely don't think it is fair to yourfriends, do you, 'Liphalet Loop? Purty nigh every man in town is bein'suspicioned, an'--"
"That ain't any business o' mine," snapped Eliphalet, showing some ire."If they feel as though the thing ought to be cleared up jest fer_their_ sakes, why don't they git together an' offer a reward? I don'tsee why I ought to pay out money to 'stablish the innocence of all themen in Tinkletown. Let them do it if they feel that way about it. I gotno objection to the taxpayers of Tinkletown oppropriatin' a sum out ofthe town treasury to prove they're innocent. Why don't you take it upwith the selectmen, Anderson. I'm satisfied to leave my complaint as itis. I've been thinkin' it over, an' I believe I'd ruther git my divorcewithout knowin' who's the cause of it. The way it is now, I'm onfriendly terms with every man in town, an' I'd like to stay that way. Itwould be mighty onpleasant to meet one of your friends on the street an'not be able to speak to him. Long as I _don't_ know, why--"
"Wait a minute, Liff Loop," broke in Anderson sternly. "Don't sayanything more. All I got to say is that it wasn't _you_ your wifeinsulted when she called you a skunk. Good mornin', sir."
He turned and strode away, leaving the amazed Mr. Loop standing with hismouth open. Some time later that same afternoon Eliphalet succeeded insolving the problem that had been tantalizing him all day. "By gum," hebleated, addressing the high heavens, "what a blamed old fool he is!Anybody with any sense at all knows that you _can't_ insult a skunk."
* * * * *
Briefly, Mr. Loop's fifth matrimonial experience had been, in thestrictest sense, a venture. After four discouraging failures in theeffort to obtain a durable wife from among the young women of Tinkletownand vicinity, he had resolved to go farther afield for his fifth. So headvertised through a New York matrimonial bureau for the sort of wife hemight reasonably depend upon to survive the rigours of climate, industryand thrift. He made it quite plain that the lucky applicant would haveto be a robust creature, white, sound of lung and limb, not more thanthirty, and experienced in domestic economy. Nationality no object. Mr.Loop's idea of the meaning of domestic economy was intensely literal.Also she would have to pay her own railroad fare to Boggs City, nomatter whence she came, the same to be refunded in case she provedacceptable. He described himself as a widower of means, young in spiritthough somewhat past middle age, of attractive personality and anexperienced husband.
The present Mrs. Loop was the result of this spirit of enterprise on hispart. She came from Hoboken, New Jersey, and her name was Anna Petersenbefore it was altered to Loop. She more than fulfilled the requirements.As Mr. Loop himself proclaimed, there wasn't "a robuster woman inBramble County;" she was exceedingly sound of lung, and equally sound oflimb. What pleased him more than anything else, she was a Swede. He hadalways heard that the Swedish women were the most frugal, the mostindustrious, and a shade more amenable to male authority than anyothers.
Anna was a towering, rather overdeveloped female. She revealed suchastonishing propensities for work that she had been a bride but littlemore than a week when Eliphalet decided that he could dispense with theservices of a hired man. A little later he discovered, much to hissurprise, that there really wasn't quite enough work about the house tokeep her occupied all the time, and so he allowed her to take over someof the chores he had been in the habit of performing, such as feedingthe horses and pigs, and ultimately to chop and carry in the firewood,wash the buckboard,
milk the cows, and--in spare moments--to weed thegarden. He began to regard himself as the most fortunate man alive. Annaappeared to thrive where her predecessors had withered and wasted away.True, she ate considerably more than any of them, but he was willing toput up with that, provided she didn't go so far to eat as much as _all_of them. There were times, however, when he experienced a great deal ofuneasiness on that score.
The fly avoided his ointment for something like three months. Then itcame and settled and bade fair to remain and thrive upon the fat of hisland. Anna's mother came to live with them. He now realized that he hadbeen extremely shortsighted. He should have stipulated in hisadvertisement that none except motherless young women need apply.
Mrs. Petersen was his fifth mother-in-law, and he dolefully foundhimself contending with the paraphrase: like mother, like daughter. Hislatest mother-in-law proved to be a voracious as well as a vociferouseater. She fell little short of Anna in physical proportions, but hiswife assured him that it would be no time at all before she'd have heras plump as a partridge! Mr. Loop undertook the experiment of a joke. Heasked her if _partridge_ was the Swede word for _hippopotamus_. Afterthat he kept his jokes to himself.
A year and a half went by. Then Miss Gertie Petersen came up fromHoboken for a flying visit. She was a very tall and lean young woman.Mr. Loop shuddered. The process of developing her into a partridge wassomething horrible to contemplate. But Anna was not dismayed. Sheinsisted that the country air would do her sister a world of good. Mr.Loop was a pained witness to the filling out of Gertrude, but somethingtold him that it wasn't the country air that was doing it. She weighedin the neighbourhood of one hundred and fifty pounds when she flew infor the visit. At the end of six months she strained the scales at twohundred and twenty. There was a good deal of horse-sense in hiscontention that if all this additional weight was country air, she'dhave to be pretty securely anchored or she'd float away like a balloon.
But he did not openly complain. He had acquired the wisdom of thevanquished. He was surrounded by conquerors. Moreover, atbutchering-time, he had seen his wife pick up a squealing shoat with onehand and slit its throat with the other in such a skilful and efficientmanner that gooseflesh crept out all over his body when he thought ofit.
_He was surrounded by conquerors_]
And during those long, solitary nights in the barn he thought of it soconstantly that everything else, including the encroachment of thehome-wrecker, slipped his mind completely. He never ceased wondering howhe screwed up the courage to institute proceedings against Anna,notwithstanding the fact that the matter had been vicariously attendedto by his lawyer and a deputy from the county sheriff's office.
* * * * *
Marshal Crow fell into a state of profound cogitation after leaving Mr.Loop. The old man had put a new idea into his head. Late in theafternoon he decided to call a meeting of citizens at the town hall forthat night. He drafted the assistance of such able idlers as AlfReesling, Newt Spratt, Rush Applegate, Henry Plumb and Situate M. Jones,and ordered them to impress upon all male citizens of Tinkletown betweenthe ages of twenty-one and seventy-five the importance of attending thismeeting. Ebenezer January, the barber, and George Washington Smith, thegarbage-wagon driver, were the only two men in town whose presence wasnot considered necessary. They, with their somewhat extensive families,represented the total coloured population of Tinkletown.
When the impromptu gathering was called to order that night by EzraPounder, the town clerk (acting in an unofficial capacity), there werenearly two hundred and fifty men present, including Messrs. January andSmith. Uncle Dad Simms, aged eighty-four, was present, occupying a frontseat. He confessed for the first time in his life that he was a little"hard o' hearin'." This was a most gratifying triumph for hisfellow-citizens, who for a matter of twenty years had almost yelledtheir lungs out advising him to get an ear-trumpet, only to have himsay: "What in thunder are you whisperin' about?"
The three clergymen of the town put in an appearance, and Elmer K.Pratt, the photographer, brought his seven-months-old baby, explainingthat it was _his_ night to take care of her. He assured the gentlemenpresent that they were at liberty to speak as freely and as loudly asthey pleased, so far as his daughter was concerned; if she got awake andstarted to "yap," he'd spank the daylights out of her, and if thatdidn't shut her up he'd take her home.
Anderson Crow, wearing all his decorations, occupied a chair between Mr.Pounder and Harry Squires, the _Banner_ reporter. By actual count therewere seven badges ranging across his chest. Prominent among them werethe familiar emblems of the two detective associations to which he paidannual dues. Besides these, one could have made out the star of the townmarshal, the shield of the fire chief, badges of the Grand Army of theRepublic, Sons of Veterans, Sons of the Revolution, and the TinkletownBattlefield Association.
Harry Squires, at the request of Mr. Crow, arose and stated the objectof the meeting.
"Gentlemen," he began, "the time has come for action. We have beenpatient long enough. A small committee of citizens got together today,and acting upon the suggestion of our distinguished Marshal, decided tomake a determined effort to restore peace and confidence into the homeof practically every gentleman in this community. It is a moralcertainty that all of us can't be the individual in Mr. Loop's woodpile,but it is also more or less an immoral certainty that Mrs. Loopobstinately refuses to vindicate an overwhelming majority of thecitizens of this town.
"The situation is intolerable. We are in a painful state of perplexity.One of us, gentlemen, appears to be a _Lothario_. The question naturallyarises: which one of us is it? Nobody answers. As a matter of fact, upto date, nobody has actually _denied_ the charge. Can it be a matter offalse pride with us? Ahem! However, not only does Mrs. Loop decline tolift the shadow of doubt, but Mr. Loop has assumed a most determined anduncharitable attitude toward his friends and neighbours. He positivelyrefuses to come to our rescue. We have put up with Mr. Loop for a greatmany years, gentlemen, and what do we get for our pains? Nothing,gentlemen, nothing except Mr. Loop's cheerful wink when he passes us onthe street. Our esteemed Marshal today proposed to Mr. Loop that heoffer a suitable reward for the apprehension of the man in the case. Hegave him the opportunity to do something for his friends andacquaintances. What does Mr. Loop say to the proposition? He was morethan magnanimous. He as much as said that he couldn't bear the idea thatany one of his numerous friends was innocent.
"Now, while Mr. Loop may feel that he is being extremely generous, wemust feel otherwise. Gentlemen, we have arrived at the point where wemust take our reputations out of Eliphalet Loop's hands. We cannotafford to let him trifle with them any longer. Mr. Loop refuses toemploy a detective. Therefore it is up to us to secure the services ofa competent, experienced sleuth who can and will establish ourinnocence. It will cost us a little money, possibly fifty cents apiece;but what is that compared to a fair name? I am confident that thereisn't a man here who wouldn't give as much as ten dollars, even if hehad to steal it, in order to protect his honour. Now, gentlemen, youknow what we are here for. The meeting is open for suggestions anddiscussion."
He sat down, but almost instantly arose, his gaze fixed on an object inthe rear of the hall.
"I see that Mr. Loop has just come in. Perhaps he has some news for us.Have you anything to say, Mr. Loop?"
Mr. Loop got up and cleared his throat.
"Nothin'," said he "except that I'm as willin' as anybody to subscribefifty cents."
Harry Squires suddenly put his hand over his mouth and turned to MarshalCrow. The Marshal arose.
"This ain't no affair of yours, Liff Loop. Nobody invited you to bepresent. You go on home, now. Go on! You've contributed all that'snecessary to this here meetin'. Next thing we know, you'll becontributin' your mother-in-law too. Get out, I say. Open the door,Jake, an' head him that way. Easy, now! I didn't say to _stand_ him onhis head. He might accidently squash that new fewdory hat he's wearin'."
After Mr. L
oop's unceremonious departure, the Marshal resumed his seatand fell to twisting his sparse whiskers.
"What is your opinion, Mr. Crow," inquired Harry Squires, "as to theamount we would have to pay a good detective to tackle the job?"
Mr. Crow ran a calculating eye over the crowd. He did not at once reply.Finally he spoke.
"Between a hundred and five an' a hundred an' seven dollars," he said."It might run as high as hundred and ten," he added, as two or threebelated citizens entered the hall.
"Can we get a goot man for dot amoundt?" inquired Henry Wimpelmeyer, thetanyard man.
"Well, we can get one that c'n tell whether it's daylight or darkwithout lightin' a lantern to find out," said Mr. Crow in a slightlybellicose tone.
"I ain't so sure aboudt dot," said Henry, eying the Marshal skeptically.He had had it in for Marshal Crow ever since that official compelled himto hang an American flag in front of his tanyard.
Luckily Uncle Dad Simms, who had not heard a word of the foregoingremarks, piped up.
"This ain't no time to be thinkin' of unnecessary improvements, whatwith peace not signed yet, an' labor an' material so high. I don't seethat there's any call for a new roof, anyway. S'posin' it does leak alittle once in a while. We've all got umbrellas, I guess, an'--"
"Wake up, wake up!" bawled Alf Reesling, close to the old man's ear. "Weain't talkin' about a roof. Loop! That's what we're talkin' about!"
"What say?" squealed Uncle Dad, putting his hand to his ear. "My hearin'is a little bad lately."
"I said you was the derndest old nuisance in town; that's what Isaid--an' I don't care whether you hear me or not," roared Alf inexasperation.
"That's better," said Uncle Dad, nodding his head approvingly. "But Iwish you wouldn't chaw tobacker, Alf," he added rather plaintively.
"Order!" commanded Marshal Crow, pounding on the table with his cane."Now, feller-citizens, let us git down to business. Most of us have gotto be home before nine o'clock, or the dickens will be to pay. All thosein favour of employin' a detective to unearth this dark mystery raisetheir right hands."
"Just a moment, please," called out the Reverend Mr. Maltby, of theCongregationalist church. "I presume I am safe in saying that FatherMaloney, the Reverend Mr. Downs and myself are hardly to be regarded asinterested parties--"
He was interrupted by Father Maloney, who sprang to his feet and shoutedin his most jovial voice:
"Nonsense, my dear Maltby! I consider it a great honour to be consideredin the list of suspects. Nothing could give me more pleasure than thefeeling that my parishioners trusted me sufficiently to take me to theirhearts and say: 'He is one of us.' I should consider myself very badlytreated if they were to leave me out of the case. Come--join me. Let usget all we can out of a most delicate situation. What do you say, friendDowns?"
The Methodist minister, an elderly person, looked a trifle dashed for amoment or two, and then heartily declared himself as with FatherMaloney. Whereupon Mr. Maltby said he guessed it would be all right,provided Mr. Squires promised not to publish the names.
Harry Squires promptly announced that he intended to save labour andspace by stating briefly and concisely that if any of his femininereaders cared to have a list of "those present," she could get it veryeasily and alphabetically by consulting the telephone-book.
The outcome of the meeting may be recorded in a very few words, althougha great many were required in its achievement. Virtually everybody,including the coloured gentry, had something to say on the subject, andmost of them said it without reservations. After Mr. Squires hadannounced that any man who voted in the negative would automaticallyconvict himself, there wasn't a man present who failed to subscribefifty cents toward the civic honour fund. It was found, on computation,that the total amount was one hundred nine dollars and fifty cents.Marshal Crow at once increased his contribution to one dollar, declaringit would be mortifying to offer a reward of less than one hundred andten dollars to any decent, self-respecting detective.
Messrs. January and Smith insisted on their rights as citizens to joinin the movement. Mr. January took the floor and vociferously haranguedthe assemblage at some length on certain provisions of the Proclamationof Emancipation, and Mr. Smith said that "this wasn't no time to drawthe colour-line."
Mr. Crow consented to undertake the baffling case, and it was "soordered."
"Have you got a clue?" whispered Alf Reesling as he started homeward inthe wake of the preoccupied sleuth.
"No, but I will have 'fore mornin'," replied Anderson.
And he never uttered truer words in all his life.
* * * * *
Being a man of action, Mr. Crow began operations at once. He went homeand for nearly an hour worked over the list of subscribers to the fund,aided by his wife and daughters. Among them they separated the wheatfrom the chaff. At least twenty per cent. of the contributors were setaside in a separate group and labelled "no good." Ten per cent. weredesignated as "fairly good," and the remainder as "good." It must not beassumed that the division had anything to do with the Loop mystery. Mr.Crow was merely figuring out who would pay and who would not.
It was shortly after ten o'clock when he started, in a roundabout way,for the home of Eliphalet Loop. The more direct route would have beendown the street from his own house to the Boggs City pike, first turn tothe left, fifty paces straight ahead, and he would have found himself atEliphalet's front gate--in all, a matter of half a mile. But hepreferred to descend upon the premises from an unexpected angle. So heapproached by a far, circuitous way and arrived at the gate aftertraversing something like three miles of wood and pasture-land,stealthily following the stake-and-rider fences in order to screen hismovements. He was well aware that Mr. Loop did not own a dog, on accountof the expense.
The house was dark. Mr. Crow leaned against the hitching-post and moppedhis brow. Then he blew his nose. It was his custom when he blew hisnose, to blow it with tremendous force. Having performed these highlyinteresting feats he restored his handkerchief to his hip pocket. Heremembered quite clearly doing all these things. Afterwards he claimedthat he blew his nose as a signal. In any case, it _proved_ to be asignal. A thinly pleated light appeared in one of the front windows ofthe house, narrow little streaks one above the other, shining throughthe window-slats.
The Marshal of Tinkletown stared. He craned his neck. A chill ofexcitement swept over him. Was he about to witness the surreptitiousdeparture of the unwelcome guest? Had he arrived in the nick of time?And what in the world was he to do if the fellow had a revolver?Fascinated, he watched one of the blinds slowly swing outward. He heldhis breath.
Suddenly it dawned on him that the visitor was still _expected_, and noton the point of departing. In that case it behooved him to retire to aless exposed spot, where he could observe the fellow without beingobserved.
Stooping low, he stole across the road and wound his way through thescraggly hedgerow and into the brambles beyond. Just as he was settlinghimself down for his vigil, a most astonishing thing occurred.
A hand fell heavily upon his shoulder, and something cold punched him inthe back of the neck--and remained fixed in that spot.
"Don't move or I'll blow your brains out," whispered a voice in his ear.The grip on his shoulder tightened.
"Who--who--" he started to gasp.
"Shut up!" hissed the voice of the invisible one. "I've got you dead torights. Get up! Put your hands up!"
"I--I got 'em up," gulped Mr. Crow, in a strangled voice. "Don't shoot,Mister! I--I promise to let you go, I swear I will. It's--"
"By thunder!" fell from the lips of the captor. It was an exclamation ofsurprise, even dismay.
"Take it away, if it's a revolver," pleaded Anderson. "I withdraw fromthe case. You c'n go as fer as you like. Eliphalet--"
"Stand still. I can't take a chance with you. You may be trying to foolme with this rube talk. Keep 'em up!"
Swiftly the stranger ran a hand over Mr. Crow's person.
/> "You _ought_ to have a gun," he said in a puzzled voice.
"I loaned it last winter to Milt Cupples, an' he--"
"Who the devil are you?"
"I'm the marshal of Tinkletown, an' my name is Crow--A. Crow. I made amistake, takin' up this case. Go on in and see Mrs. Loop if you feellike it. I won't say a word to anybody--"
"Get down on your knees, Mr. Crow, here beside me, an'--"
"Oh, Lordy, Lordy! You shorely ain't going to shoot, Mister!"
"I don't want you to pray. I want you to keep still. Don't make asound--do you hear?"
"I've got a wife an' children--"
"Shut up! Look! She's put out the light. Keep your eyes skinned, oldman! He must be near. Don't make a sound. My partner's in thatrain-barrel at the corner of the house. If we can get him between us, hewon't have any more chance than a snowball in--Look! There he is,sneaking across the yard! By golly, we've got him at last."
What happened in the next fifteen seconds was a revelation to the mostrecent addition to the forces of the International Society of Sleuths.He witnessed the quick, businesslike methods of two of the craftiest menin the craftiest organization in the world--the United States SecretService.
Two words were spoken. They came, loud and imperative, from a point nearthe house.
"Hands up!"
The skulking figure in the yard stopped short, but only for a fractionof a second. Then he made a wild spring toward the front gate.
A shot rang out.
The man at Anderson's side leaped forward through the hedge. Mr. Crowwas dimly conscious of a mishap to his erstwhile captor. He heard himcurse as he went sprawling over a treacherous vine.
Mr. Crow did not waste a second's time. He leaped to his feet andstarted pellmell for home. With rare sagacity he avoided the highway andlaid his course well inside the hedgerow. He knew where he could strikean open stretch of meadowland, and he headed for it through thebrambles.
He heard shouts behind him, and the rush of feet. If he could only getclear of the cussed bushes! That was his thought as he plunged along.
Down he went with a crash!
* * * * *
As the marshal tried to rise, a huge object ploughed through the hedgebeside him, and the next instant he was knocked flat and breathless bythe impact of this hurtling body.
The next instant two swift, ruthless figures came plunging through thehedge, and he found himself embroiled in a seething mix-up of panting,struggling men.
Presently Crow sat up. The steady glare of a "dark-lantern" revealed apicture he was never to forget.
A single figure in a kneeling position, hands on high, was crying:
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"
Over him stood two men with pistols levelled at the white, terrifiedface.
_Over him stood two men with pistols levelled at thewhite, terrified face_]
Anderson, to his dying day, was to remember those bulging eyes, theflabby and unshaven face, the mouth that appeared to be grinning--butnever had he seen such an unnatural grin!
"Stand up!" commanded one of the men, and the victim struggled to hisfeet. In less time than it takes to tell it, the fellow was searched andhand-cuffed. "Run back there, Pyke, and see that the woman don't take acrack at us with a shotgun. She'd do it in a minute." As his companiondarted back into the roadway, the speaker turned to his captive."Where's your gun?"
By this time Anderson Crow was on his feet. He was clutching somethingin his hand. He looked at it in stark astonishment. It was an automaticpistol. In raising himself from the ground his hand had fallen upon it.
"I don't know," said the captive sullenly. Then his gaze fell upon thegaunt figure of Anderson Crow. A frightful scowl transfigured his face.Mr. Crow involuntarily drew back a step and reversed the pistol in hishand, so that its muzzle was pointing at the enemy instead of athimself. Between imprecations the prisoner managed to convey the factthat he realized for the first time that it was a human being and not alog that had brought him to earth.
* * * * *
Mr. Crow found his voice and some of his wits at the same time.
"I'll learn you not to go rampagin' around these parts carryin'concealed weapons, you good-fer-nothin' scamp! I've got your gun, blastye!" He turned triumphantly to the surprised secret-service man. "I tookit away from him soon as I had him down, an'--"
"Holy mackerel!" gasped the operative. "Did--did you head him offand--and down him? You? Well, I'll be hanged!"
"I sorter knowed he'd strike about here, tryin' to make the woods upyonder, so I hustled down here to head him off while you fellers--"
"Never mind now," broke in the other. "Tell it to me later. Come on,both of you. We're not through yet." He urged the burly captive throughthe hedge. Marshal Crow followed very close behind.
They found a terrified, excited group on the front porch--three sturdyfemales in nightgowns, all with their hands up! Below, revealed by thelight streaming through the open door, stood a man covering them with arevolver. Fifteen or twenty minutes later Mr. Crow dug the shiveringEliphalet Loop out of the hay-mow and ordered him forthwith to join hisfamily in the kitchen, where he would hear something to his advantage.
The happiest man in Bramble County was Eliphalet Loop when he finallygrasped the truth. The prisoner turned out to be his wife's firsthusband--he grasped that fact some little time before he realized that_he_ wasn't even her second husband, owing to certain fundamentalprinciples in law--and a fugitive from justice. The man was an escapedconvict, the leader of a gang of counterfeiters, and he was serving aterm in one of the federal prisons when he succeeded in his break forliberty. For many months the United States Secret Service operatives hadbeen combing the country for him, hot and cold on his trail, but always,until now, finding themselves baffled by the crafty rogue, who,according to the records, was one of the most dangerous, desperatecriminals alive. Finally they got track of his wife, who had lived for atime in Hoboken, but it was only within the week that they succeeded inlocating her as the wife of Eliphalet Loop. The remainder of the storyis too simple to bother about.
"Of course, Mr. Loop," said one of the secret-service men, "you canprosecute this woman for bigamy."
Mr. Loop shook his head. "Not much! I won't take no chance. She mightprove that she wasn't ever married to _this_ feller, an' then wherewould I be? No, sirree! You take her along an' lock her up. She's adangerous character. An' say, don't make any mistake an' fergit to takeher mother an' sister, too."
* * * * *
The next evening Mr. Crow sat on the porch in front of Lamson's store.His fellow-townsmen were paying up more promptly than he had expected.Practically three-fourths of the reward was in his coat pockets--allsilver, but as heavy as lead.
"Yes, sir," he was saying in a rather far-reaching voice, for the outerrim of the crowd was some distance away, "as I said before severaltimes, I figgered he would do just what he did. I figgered that I'd haveto outfigger him. He is one of the slickest individuals I have ever hadanything to do with--an' one of the most desperit. I--er--where was Iat, Alf?... Oh, yes, I recollect. He was a powerful feller. Fer a secondor two I thought maybe he'd get the best of me, being so much youngeran' havin' a revolver besides. But I hung on like grim death, an'finally--Thanks, Jim; I wasn't expectin' you to pay 'fore the end of themonth. Finally I got my favourite holt on him, an' down he went. Allthis time I was tryin' to git his revolver away from him. Just as I gotit, the secret-service men came dashin' up an'--What say, Deacon? Well,if the rest of the crowd ain't tired o' hearin' the story, I don't mindtellin' it all over."
Harry Squires, perched on the railing, assured him that the crowdwouldn't mind in the least.
"The real beauty of the story Anderson," he added dryly, "is that it hasso much of the spice of life in it."
"What's that?"
"I mean variety."