The Daughter of Anderson Crow by George Barr McCutcheon

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"Then came the most villainous part of the whole conspiracy. Reddon,
knowing full well that exposure was possible at any time, urged my
stepfather to have you kidnaped and hurried off to some part of the
world where you could never be found. Even Reddon did not have the
courage to kill you. Neither had the heart to commit actual murder. It
was while we were at Colonel Randall's place that the abduction took
place, you remember. Mr. Banks and Tom Reddon had engaged their men in
New York. These desperadoes came to Boggs City while Tom was here to
watch their operations. All the time Mr. Crow was chasing us down
Reddon was laughing in his sleeve, for he knew what was to happen during
the marshal's absence. You know how successfully he managed the job. It
was my stepfather's fault that it did not succeed.

"My mother, down in New York, driven to the last extreme, had finally
turned on him and demanded that he make restitution to Rosalie Gray, as
we had come to know her. Of course, there was a scene and almost a
catastrophe. He was so worried over the position she was taking, that he
failed to carry out his part of the plans, which were to banish Rosalie
forever from this country. You were to have been taken to Paris, dear,
and kept forever in one of those awful sanitoriums. They are worse than
the grave. In the meantime, the delay gave Mr. Bonner a chance to rescue
you from the kidnapers.

"Shortly after reaching New York I quarrelled with Thomas Reddon, and my
mother and I fled to California. He followed us and sought a
reconciliation. I loathed him so much by this time, that I appealed to
my mother. It was then that she told me this miserable story, and that
is why we are in Tinkletown to-day. We learned in some way of the plot
to kidnap you and to place you where you could not be found. The inhuman
scheme of my stepfather and his adviser was to have my mother declared
insane and confined in an asylum, where her truthful utterances could
never be heard by the world, or if they were, as the ravings of a mad
woman.

"The day that we reached New York my mother _placed_ the documents and
every particle of proof in her possession in the hands of the British
Consul. The story was told to him and also to certain attorneys. A
member of his firm visited my stepfather and confronted him with the
charges. That very night Mr. Banks disappeared, leaving behind him a
note, in which he said we should never see his face again. Tom Reddon
has gone to Europe. My mother and I expect to sail this week for
England, and I have come to ask Rosalie to accompany us. I want her to
stand at last on the soil which knows her to be Rosalie Brace. The
fortune which was mine last week is hers to-day. We are not poor,
Rosalie dear, but we are not as rich as we were when we had all that
belonged to you."

CHAPTER XXXVI

Anderson Crow's Resignation

Some days later Anderson Crow returned to Tinkletown from New York,
where he had seen Rosalie Bonner and her husband off for England,
accompanied by Mrs. Banks and Elsie, who had taken passage on the same
steamer. He was attired in a brand-new suit of blue serge, a panama hat,
and patent-leather shoes which hurt his feet. Moreover, he carried a new
walking stick with a great gold head and there was a huge pearl
scarf-pin in his necktie Besides all this, his hair and beard had been
trimmed to perfection by a Holland House barber. Every morning his wife
was obliged to run a flatiron over his trousers to perpetuate the
crease. Altogether Anderson was a revelation not only to his family and
to the town at large, but to himself as well. He fairly staggered every
time he got a glimpse of himself in the shop windows.

All day long he strolled about the street, from store to store, or
leaned imposingly against every post that presented itself conveniently.
Naturally he was the talk of the town.

"Gee-mi-nently!" ejaculated Alf Reesling, catching sight of him late in
the day. "Is that the president?"

"It's Anderson Crow," explained Blootch Peabody.

"Who's dead?" demanded Alf.

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Why, whose clothes is he wearin'?" pursued Alf, utterly overcome by the
picture.

"You'd better not let him hear you say that," cautioned Isaac Porter.
"He got 'em in New York. He says young Mr. Bonner give 'em to him fer a
weddin' present. Rosalie give him a pearl dingus to wear in his cravat,
an' derned ef he don't have to wear a collar all the time now. That
lawyer Barnes give him the cane. Gee whiz! he looks like a king, don't
he?"

At that moment Anderson approached the group in front of Lamson's store.
He walked with a stateliness that seemed to signify pain in his lower
extremities more than it did dignity higher up.

"How fer out do you reckon they are by this time, Blootch?" he asked
earnestly.

"'Bout ten miles further than when you asked while ago," responded
Blootch, consulting his watch.

"Well, that ought to get 'em to Liverpool sometime soon then. They took
a powerful fast ship. Makes it in less 'n six days, they say. Let's see.
They sailed day before yesterday. They must be out sight o' land by this
time."

"Yes, unless they're passin' some islands," agreed Blootch.

"Thunderation! What air you talkin' about?" said Anderson scornfully.
"Cuby an' Porty Rico's been passed long ago. Them islands ain't far from
Boston. Don't you remember how skeered the Boston people were durin' the
war with Spain? Feared the Spanish shells might go a little high an'
smash up the town? Islands nothin'! They've got away out into deep
water by this time, boys. 'y Gosh, I'm anxious about Rosalie. S'posin'
that derned boat struck a rock er upset er somethin'! They never could
swim ashore."

"Oh, there's no danger, Anderson," said Mr. Lamson. "Those boats are
perfectly safe. I suppose they're going to telegraph you when they
land."

"No, they're goin' to cable, Wick says. Doggone, I'm glad it's all
settled. You don't know how hard I've worked all these years to find out
who her parents was. Course I knowed they were foreigners all the time,
but Rosalie never had no brogue, so you c'n see how I was threw off the
track. She talked jest as good American as we do. I was mighty glad when
I finally run Miss Banks to earth." The crowd was in no position to
argue the point with him. "That Miss Banks is a fine girl, boys. She
done the right thing. An' so did my Rosalie--I mean Lady Rosalie. She
made Elsie keep some of the money. Mr. Barnes is goin' to England next
week to help settle the matter for Lady Rosalie. He says she's got
nearly a million dollars tied up some'eres. It's easy sailin', though,
'cause Mrs. Banks says so. Did you hear what Rosalie said when she got
convinced about bein' an English lady?"

"No; what did she say?"

"She jest stuck up that derned little nose o' hern an' said: 'I am an
American as long as I live.'"

"Hooray!" shouted Alf Reesling, throwing Isaac Porter's new hat into the
air. The crowd joined in the cheering.

"Did I ever tell you how I knowed all along that it was a man who left
Rosalie on the porch?" asked Anderson.

"Why, you allus told me it was a woman," said Alf. "You accused me of
bein' her."

"Shucks! Woman nothin'! I knowed it was a man. Here's somethin' you
don't know, Alf. I sized up the foot-prints on my front steps jest after
she--I mean he--dropped the basket. The toes turned outward, plain as
day, right there in the snow." He paused to let the statement settle in
their puzzled brains. "Don't you know that one hunderd percent of the
women turn their toes in when they go upstairs? To keep from hookin'
into their skirts? Thunder, you oughter of thought of that, too!"

Some one had posted Anderson on this peculiarly feminine trait, and he
was making the best of it. Incidentally, it may be said that every man
in Tinkletown took personal observations in order to satisfy himself.

"Any one seen Pastor MacFarlane?" went on Anderson. "Wick Bonner give me
a hunderd dollar bill to give him fer performin' the ceremony up to our
house that night. G'way, Ed Higgins! I'm not goin' 'round showin' that
bill to people. If robbers got onto the fact I have it, they'd probably
try to steal it. I don't keer if you ain't seen that much money in one
piece. That's none of my lookout. Say, are you comin' to the town
meetin' to-night?"

They were all at the meeting of the town board that night. It was held,
as usual, in Odd Fellows' Hall, above Peterson's dry-goods store, and
there was not so much as standing room in the place when the clerk read
the minutes of the last meeting. Word had gone forth that something
unusual was to happen. It was not idle rumour, for soon after the
session began, Anderson Crow arose to address the board.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "I have come
before you as I notified you I would. I hereby tender my resignation as
marshal of Tinkletown, street commissioner and chief of the fire
department--an' any other job I may have that has slipped my mind. I now
suggest that you app'int Mr. Ed Higgins in my place. He has wanted the
job fer some time, an' says it won't interfere with his business any
more than it did with mine. I have worked hard all these years an' I
feel that I ought to have a rest. Besides, it has got to be so that
thieves an' other criminals won't visit Tinkletown on account o' me, an'
I think the town is bein' held back considerable in that way. What's the
use havin' a marshal an' a jail ef nobody comes here to commit crimes?
They have to commit 'em in New York City er Chicago nowadays, jest
because it's safer there than it is here. Look at this last case I had.
Wasn't that arranged in New York? Well, it shouldn't be that way. Even
the train robbers put up their job in New York. I feel that the best
interests of the town would be served ef I resign an' give the criminals
a chance. You all know Ed Higgins. He will ketch 'em if anybody kin. I
move that he be app'inted."

The motion prevailed, as did the vote of thanks, which was vociferously
called for in behalf of Anderson Crow.

"You honour me," said the ex-marshal, when the "ayes" died away. "I
promise to help Marshal Higgins in ever' way possible. I'll tell him
jest what to do in everything. I wish to say that I am not goin' out of
the detective business, however. I'm goin' to open an agency of my own
here. All sorts of detective business will be done at reasonable prices.
I had these cards printed at the _Banner_ office to-day, an' Mr. Squires
is goin' to run an ad. fer me fer a year in the paper."

He proudly handed a card to the president of the board and then told the
crowd that each person present could have one by applying to his son
Roscoe, who would be waiting in the hallway after the meeting. The card
read:

"Anderson Crow, Detective.
All kinds of cases Taken and Satisfaction
Guaranteed.
Berth mysteries a Specialty."

Mrs. Bonner, upon hearing of his resignation the next day, just as she
was leaving for Boston, drily remarked to the Congressman:

"I still maintain that Anderson Crow is utterly impossible."

No doubt the entire world, aside from the village of Tinkletown, agrees
with her in that opinion.

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