During the next three days Tinkletown saw but little of its marshal, fire chief and street commissioner. That triple personage was off on business of great import. Early, each morning, he mysteriously stole away to the woods, either up or down the river, carrying a queer bundle under the seat of his "buckboard." Two revolvers, neither of which had been discharged for ten years, reposed in a box fastened to the dashboard. Anderson solemnly but positively refused to allow any one to accompany him, nor would he permit any one to question him. Farmers coming to town spoke of seeing him in the lanes and in the woods, but he had winked genially when they had asked what he was trailing. "He's after the train robbers," explained all Tinkletown soberly. Whereupon the farmers and their wives did not begrudge Anderson Crow the chicken dinners he had eaten with them, nor did they blame him for bothering the men in the fields. It was sufficient that he found excuse to sleep in the shade of their trees during his still hunt. "Got any track of 'em?" asked George Ray one evening, stopping at Anderson's back gate to watch the marshal unhitch his thankful nag. Patience had ceased to be a virtue with George. "Any track of who?" asked Mr. Crow with a fine show of innocence. "The robbers." "I ain't been trackin' robbers, George." "What in thunder have you been trackin' all over the country every day, then?" "I'm breakin' this colt," calmly replied the marshal, with a mighty wink at old Betty, whom he had driven to the same buckboard for twenty years. As George departed with an insulted snort, Andrew Gregory came from the barn, where he had been awaiting the return of Mr. Crow." "I'm next to something big," he announced in a low tone, first looking in all directions to see that no one was listening. "Gosh! Did you land Mr. Farnsworth?" "It has nothing to do with insurance," hastily explained the agent. "I've heard something of vast importance to you." "You don't mean to say the troupe has busted?" "No--no; it is in connection with--with--" and here Mr. Gregory leaned forward and whispered something in Anderson's ear. Mr. Crow promptly stopped dead still in his tracks, his eyes bulging. Betty, who was being led to the water trough, being blind and having no command to halt, proceeded to bump forcibly against her master's frame. CHAPTER XXXI "As You Like It" "You--don't--say--so! Whoa! dang ye! Cain't you see where you're goin', you old rip?" Betty was jerked to a standstill. "What have you heerd?" asked Anderson, his voice shaking with interest. "I can't tell you out here," said the other cautiously. "Put up the nag and then meet me in the pasture out there. We can sit down and talk and not be overheard." "I won't be a minute. Here, you Roscoe! Feed Betty and water her first. Step lively, now. Tell your ma we'll be in to supper when we git good an' ready."