"Well, how in thunder am I to get to Crow's Cliff?"

"There's another bridge four miles upstream. It's still there," said
George Ray. Anderson Crow had scornfully washed his hands of the affair.

"Confound the luck! I haven't time to drive that far. I have to be there
at half-past twelve. I'm late now! Is there no way to get across this
miserable creek?" He was in the buggy now, whip in hand, and his eyes
wore an anxious expression. Some of the men vowed later that he
positively looked frightened.

"There's a foot-log high and dry, and you can walk across, but you can't
get the horse and buggy over," said one of the men.

"Well, that's just what I'll have to do. Say, Mr. Officer, suppose you
drive me down to the creek and then bring the horse back here to a
livery stable. I'll pay you well for it. I must get to Crow's Cliff in
fifteen minutes."

"I'm no errant-boy!" cried Anderson Crow so wrathfully that two or three
boys snickered.

"You're a darned old crank, that's what you are!" exclaimed the stranger
angrily. Everybody gasped, and Mr. Crow staggered back against the
hitching-rail.

"See here, young man, none o' that!" he sputtered. "You can't talk that
way to an officer of the law. I'll--"

"You won't do anything, do you hear that? But if you knew who I am you'd
be doing something blamed quick." A dozen men heard him say it, and they
remembered it word for word.

"You go scratch yourself!" retorted Anderson Crow scornfully. That was
supposed to be a terrible challenge, but the stranger took no notice of
it.

"What am I to do with this horse and buggy?" he growled, half to
himself. "I bought the darned thing outright up in Boggs City, just
because the liveryman didn't know me and wouldn't let me a rig. Now I
suppose I'll have to take the old plug down to the creek and drown him
in order to get rid of him."

Nobody remonstrated. He looked a bit dangerous with his broad shoulders
and square jaw.

"What will you give me for the outfit, horse, buggy, harness and all?
I'll sell cheap if some one makes a quick offer." The bystanders looked
at one another blankly, and at last the concentrated gaze fell upon the
Pooh-Bah of the town. The case seemed to be one that called for his
attention; truly, it did not look like public property, this astounding
proposition.

"What you so derned anxious to sell for?" demanded Anderson Crow,
listening from a distance to see if he could detect a blemish in the
horse's