l

Harry Squires stepped to the front of the platform

When they appeared on the street together

He altered his course, and as she passed him, the flat of the spade
landed with impelling force

Eight or ten people were congregated in front of the Fry house

The veiled lady made her daily excursions in the big high-powered car

Yanking open the screen-door, he plunged headlong into the softly
lighted veranda

He was surrounded by conquerors

Over him stood two men with pistols levelled at the white, terrified
face

"Hold on, Mort!" called out Mr. Crow. "Don't monkey with that trunk"

His wife was now standing guard over it on the porch of the Grand View
Hotel

These smiling, complacent women formed the Death Watch that was to
witness the swift, inevitable finish of the Sunlight Bar

At the trial he was shamelessly complimentary about Mrs. Nixon's pie

"I am going to reveal to you the true facts in the case of our late
lamented friend, Jake Miller"

ANDERSON CROW, DETECTIVE

A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED

Two events of great importance took place in Tinkletown on the night of
May 6, 1918. The first, occurring at half-past ten o'clock, was of
sufficient consequence to rouse the entire population out of
bed--thereby creating a situation, almost unique, which allowed every
one in town to participate in all the thrills of the second. When the
history of Tinkletown is written,--and it is said to be well under way
at the hands of that estimable authoress, Miss Sue Becker, some fifty
years a resident of the town and the great-granddaughter of one of its
founders,--when this history is written, the night of May 6, 1918, will
assert itself with something of the same insistence that causes the
world to refresh its memory occasionally by looking into the
encyclopedia to determine the exact date of the Fall of the Bastile. The
fire-bell atop the town hall heralded the first event, and two small
boys gave notice of the second.

Smock's grain-elevator, on the outskirts of the town, was in flames, and
with a high wind blowing from the west, the Congregational and Baptist
churches, the high school, Pratt's photograph gallery and the two
motion-picture houses were threatened with destruction. As Anderson
Crow, now deputy marshal of the town, declared the instant he arrived at
the scene of the conflagration, nothing but the most heroic and
indefatigable efforts on the part of the volunteer fire-department co