names he wouldn't forget. The
old lady had her spectacles smashed and lost a dozen eggs in the
confusion. Moreover, Ed Higgins's hen-roost was robbed; and three tramps
spent as much as half a day on Main Street before Anderson took any
notice of them. Ordinarily, he was death on tramps. Crime, as Mr. Harry
Squires put it in a caustic editorial in the _Banner_, was rampant in
Tinkletown. It was getting so rampant, he complained, that it wasn't
safe to cross the street--especially while eggs were retailing at
forty-two cents a dozen.

It remained for Alf Reesling, the town drunkard, to bring order out of
chaos. Not that he seized the opportunity to go on a spree while
Anderson was moon-gazing,--not at all. Alf loathed intoxicating liquors.
He did not drink himself, and he had a horror of any one who did. He had
been drunk just three times in his life, but as he had managed to crowd
the three exhibitions into the space of one week--some twenty years
before--Tinkletown elected him forthwith for life to the office of town
sot.

Now, Alf had a grievance. He finally got the ear of Marshal Crow and let
loose in a way that startled the old man out of his daze.

"Here you been watchin' me, an' trailin' me, an' lecturin' me for twenty
years, dern ye,--an' pleadin' with me to keep sober fer the sake of
Tinkletown's fair name, an' you let this feller Bonyparte git full an'
keep people awake half the night. He's been drunk more times in the last
three weeks than I ever was in all my life. He--"

"What's that? Did you say drunk?" demanded Anderson, blinking. "Who told
you he was drunk?"

"_He_ did," said Alf. "He don't make any bones about it. He tells
everybody when he is drunk. He's proud of it."

"An' I suppose everybody believes him," said Anderson scathingly. "The
people of this here town will believe _any_ thing if--"

"Las' night that pardner of his'n an' two other fellers from up the hill
had to take him up to his room an' lock him in. He was tryin' to sing
the Star Spangled Banner in _Dutch_. Gosh, it was awful! He orter be
arrested, same as anybody else, Anderson Crow. You got me under
suspicion every minute o' the time--night _and_ day--"

"That'll do, that'll do, now Alf. No more back talk out o' you,"
exclaimed Anderson menacingly. "You might as well _be_ drunk as to _act_
drunk. Don't you know any better'n--"

"Are you goin' to arrest this Bonyparte feller?"

Anderson eyed him sternly for a moment. "I got hal