Mrs. Bloomer's anxious gaze was bent on a dark corner back of the stairway. "I do hope, if she _has_ got any snakes in them valises, she won't let 'em get loose and go crawlin' all over the place. I----" Mr. Crow sent a quick, searching look about the office as he strode toward the door. "Ain't you going up to his room?" inquired Mrs. Bloomer. "Not just now," replied Anderson, and closed the door quickly behind him. Alf Reesling and his companions were waiting impatiently on the sidewalk. They were actively disappointed when the Marshal emerged empty-handed. "Was he too much fer you?" was Alf's scathing inquiry. "How many times have I got to tell you, Alf, that I'm able to deduce these cases without your assistance? Now, this is a big case, and you leave it to me to handle. When I get ready to act, you'll hear something that will make your hair stand on end. Hold on, Newt! Don't ask any questions. Don't----" "I wasn't going to ask any questions," snapped Newt. "I was going to tell you something." "You was, eh? Well, what was you going to tell me?" "Mort Fryback went by here a couple of minutes ago an' he says for you to come into his store right away." Anderson frowned. "I bet he's confessed." "Who? Him? What's he got to confess?" demanded Alf. "Never mind, never mind," said the Marshal quickly. "I'll step in and see him now." Leaving his "reserves" standing in front of the Grand View, Mr. Crow hurried into Fryback's hardware store. Mort was pacing--or, strictly speaking, stumping--back and forth behind the cutlery counter. His brow was corrugated with anxiety. The instant he saw the Marshal he uttered an exclamation that might have been construed as either relief, dismay or wrath. It was, as a matter of fact, inarticulate and therefore extremely difficult to classify. Anderson, however, deduced it as dismay. Mr. Fryback came out from behind the counter, stumped over to the stove, in which there was a crackling fire and, after opening the isinglass door, squirted a mouthful of tobacco juice upon the coals. Whereupon it became possible for him to articulate. "I been lookin' everywhere fer you," said he, somewhat breathlessly. "Where you been?" "'Tendin' to business," retorted Anderson. "What's the matter?" Mr. Fryback took the precaution to ascertain that there were no listeners in the store. "Somebody--some woman, you c'n bet on that--told my wife last night that I poisoned old Mike." "Well, you did, didn't you?"