"Say, Anderson!" he called, "somebody broke into Colonel Randall's summer home last night an' they're there yet. Got fires goin' in all the stoves, an' havin' a high old time. They ain't got no business there, becuz the place is closed fer the winter. Aleck Burbank went over to order 'em out; one of the fellers said he'd bust his head if he didn't clear out. I think it's a gang!" A hurried interview brought out the facts. The invaders had come up in a big sleigh long before dawn, and--but that was sufficient. Anderson and his men returned to the hunt, eager and sure of their prey. Darkness was upon them when they came in sight of Colonel Randall's country place in the hills. There were lights in the windows and people were making merry indoors; while outside the pursuing Nemesis and his men were wondering how and where to assault the stronghold. "I'll jest walk up an' rap on the door," said Anderson Crow, "lettin' on to be a tramp. I'll ast fer somethin' to eat an' a place to sleep. While I'm out there in the kitchen eatin' you fellers c'n sneak up an' surround us. Then you c'n let on like you're lookin' fer me because I'd robbed a hen-roost er something, an' that'll get 'em off their guard. Once we all git inside the house with these shotguns we've got 'em where we want 'em. Then I'll make 'em purduce the body." "Don't we git anythin' to eat, too?" demanded Isaac Porter faintly. "The horses ain't had nothin' to eat, Ike," said Anderson. "Ain't you as good as a horse?" CHAPTER XIV A Case of Mistaken Identity Detective Crow found little difficulty in gaining admittance to Colonel Randall's summer home. He had secreted his badge, and it was indeed a sorry-looking tramp who asked for a bite to eat at the kitchen door. Three or four young women were busy with chafing dishes in this department of the house, and some good-looking young men were looking on and bothering them with attentions. In the front part of the house a score of people were laughing and making merry. "Gosh!" said the new tramp, twisting his chin whiskers, "how many of you are there?" "Oh, there are many more at home like us," trilled out one of the young women gaily. "You're just in time, you poor old thing, to have some of the bride-to-be's cake." "I guess I'm in the wrong house," murmured Anderson blankly. "Is it a weddin'?" "No; but there will be one before many days. It's just a reunion. How I wish Rosalie Gray were here!" cried another girl. Just then there was a pounding on the door, and an instant later Isaac Porter stalked in at the head of the posse. "Throw up your hands!" called Anderson, addressing himself to the posse, the members of which stopped in blank amazement. Some of them obligingly stuck their hands on high. "What do you want here?" "We--we--we're lookin' fer a tramp who said he robbed a hen roost," faltered Isaac Porter.