ften spoke to
Anderson of this mysterious sender as the "fairy godmother"; but the old
marshal had a deeper and more significant opinion.

Perhaps the most anxious period in the life of Anderson Crow came when
Rosalie was about ten years old. A new sheriff had been elected in
Bramble County, and he posed as a reformer. His sister taught school in
Tinkletown, and Rosalie was her favourite. She took an interest in the
child that was almost the undoing of Mr. Crow's prosperity. Imagining
that she was befriending the girl, the teacher appealed to her brother,
the sheriff, insisting that he do what he could to solve the mystery of
her birth. The sheriff saw a chance to distinguish himself. He enlisted
the help of an aggressive prosecuting attorney, also new, and set about
to investigate the case.

The two officers of the law descended upon Tinkletown one day and began
to ask peremptory questions. They went about it in such a high-handed,
lordly manner that Anderson took alarm and his heart sank like lead. He
saw in his mind's eye the utter collapse of all his hopes, the dashing
away of his cup of leisure and the upsetting of the "fairy godmother's"
plans. Pulling his wits together, he set about to frustrate the attack
of the meddlers. Whether it was his shrewdness in placing obstacles in
their way or whether he coerced the denizens into blocking the sheriff's
investigation does not matter. It is only necessary to say that the
officious gentleman from Boggs City finally gave up the quest in disgust
and retired into the oblivion usual to county officials who try to be
progressive. It was many weeks, however, before Anderson slept soundly.
He was once more happy in the consciousness that Rosalie had been saved
from disaster and that he had done his duty by her.

"I'd like to know how them doggone jays from Boggs City expected to find
out anything about that child when I hain't been able to," growled Mr.
Crow in Lamson's store one night. "If they'll jest keep their blamed
noses out of this affair I'll find out who her parents are some day. It
takes time to trace down things like this. I guess I know what I'm
doin', don't I, boys?"

"That's what you do, Anderson," said Mr. Lamson, as Anderson reached
over and took a handful of licorice drops from the jar on the counter.

CHAPTER IX

The Village Queen

The spring of 1903 brought Rosalie back to Tinkletown after her second
and last year with Miss Brown in New York C