irls. "She wanted
you to let Mr. Beck shave it for you, but you wouldn't have it that
way."

"Do you suppose I want an undertaker shavin' my neck? I'm not that
anxious to be shaved. Beck's the undertaker, Mr. Gregory."

"Well, he runs the barber shop, too," insisted the girl.

During the next three days Tinkletown saw but little of its marshal,
fire chief and street commissioner. That triple personage was off on
business of great import. Early, each morning, he mysteriously stole
away to the woods, either up or down the river, carrying a queer bundle
under the seat of his "buckboard." Two revolvers, neither of which had
been discharged for ten years, reposed in a box fastened to the
dashboard. Anderson solemnly but positively refused to allow any one to
accompany him, nor would he permit any one to question him. Farmers
coming to town spoke of seeing him in the lanes and in the woods, but he
had winked genially when they had asked what he was trailing.

"He's after the train robbers," explained all Tinkletown soberly.
Whereupon the farmers and their wives did not begrudge Anderson Crow the
chicken dinners he had eaten with them, nor did they blame him for
bothering the men in the fields. It was sufficient that he found excuse
to sleep in the shade of their trees during his still hunt.

"Got any track of 'em?" asked George Ray one evening, stopping at
Anderson's back gate to watch the marshal unhitch his thankful nag.
Patience had ceased to be a virtue with George.

"Any track of who?" asked Mr. Crow with a fine show of innocence.

"The robbers."

"I ain't been trackin' robbers, George."

"What in thunder have you been trackin' all over the country every day,
then?"

"I'm breakin' this colt," calmly replied the marshal, with a mighty wink
at old Betty, whom he had driven to the same buckboard for twenty years.
As George departed with an insulted snort, Andrew Gregory came from the
barn, where he had been awaiting the return of Mr. Crow."

"I'm next to something big," he announced in a low tone, first looking
in all directions to see that no one was listening.

"Gosh! Did you land Mr. Farnsworth?"

"It has nothing to do with insurance," hastily explained the agent.
"I've heard something of vast importance to you."

"You don't mean to say the troupe has busted?"

"No--no; it is in connection with--with--" and here Mr. Gregory leaned
forward and whispered something in Anderson's ear. Mr. Crow promptly
sto