* * * * *

"What girl and whose body," it said, "do you refer to? Miss Lovering has
been dead two years, and we are settling the estate in behalf of the
other heirs. We were trying to establish her place of residence. Never
mind the body you have lost."

* * * * *

"Doggone," said Anderson, chuckling aloud, "that was an awful good joke
on 'Rast, wasn't it?"

The stablemen stood around and looked at him with jaws that were
drooping helplessly. The air seemed laden with a sombre uncertainty that
had not yet succeeded in penetrating the nature of Marshal Crow.

"Is it from her?" finally asked Ike Smith hoarsely, his lips trembling.

"From what her?"

"Rosalie."

"Thunder, no! It's from my lawyers in Chicago."

"Ain't you--ain't you heerd about it?" half groaned Ike, moving away as
if he expected something calamitous.

"What the dickens are you fellers drivin' at?" demanded Anderson. The
remainder of his posse deserted the red-hot stove and drew near with the
instinctive feeling that something dreadful had happened.

"Ro--Rosalie has been missin' sence early last night. She was grabbed by
some feller near Mrs. Luce's, chucked into a big wagon an' rushed out of
town before Ros Crow could let out a yell. Clean stole her--look out!
Ketch him, Joe!"

Anderson dropped limply into a hostler's arms.

CHAPTER XV

Rosalie Disappears

Things had happened in Tinkletown that night. Alf Reesling finally found
some one who would listen to his story. He told the minister and the
minister alarmed the town. To be brief, Alf admitted that 'Rast Little
was at his house in the outskirts of the village, laid up with a broken
arm and a bad cut in the top of his head.

"He came crawlin' up to my place about six o'clock in the mornin',"
explained Alf, "an' I took the poor cuss in. That's what I wanted to
tell Anderson, but the old rip wouldn't listen to me. Seems as though
'Rast waited around the schoolhouse last night to git a crack at that
feller from town. Miss Banks and her three friends set around the stove
in the schoolhouse for about an hour after the crowd left, an' 'Rast got
so cold he liked to died out there in the woodshed.

"Purty soon they all come out, an' 'Rast cut acrost the lot to git
inside the house by the fire. He was so derned cold that he didn't feel
like crackin' anybody. When they wasn't lookin' he sneaked inside. Jest
as he was gitti