letter to the marshal of Tinkletown. "Now, you see," he
said, at the close of the astounding epistle, "this means that if we
observe strict secrecy, we may have the game in our hands. No one must
hear a word of this. They may have spies right here in Tinkletown. We
can succeed only by keeping our mouths sealed."

"Tighter'n beeswax," promised Anderson Crow.

Briefly, the letter to Andrew Gregory was an exposure of the plans of
the great train-robber gang, together with their whereabouts on a
certain day to come. They were to swoop down on Tinkletown on the night
of the open-air performance of "As You Like It," and their most
desperate coup was to be the result. The scheme was to hold up and rob
the entire audience while the performance was going on. Anderson Crow
was in a cold perspiration. The performance was but three days off, and
he felt that he required three months for preparation.

"How in thunder are we goin' to capture that awful gang, jest you an'
me?" he asked, voicing his doubts and fears.

"We'll have to engage help, that's all."

"We'll need a regiment."

"Don't you think it. Buck up, old fellow, don't be afraid."

"Afeerd? Me? I don't know what it is to be skeered. Didn't you ever hear
about how I landed them fellers that kidnaped my daughter Rosalie? Well,
you jest ast some one 'at knows about it. Umph! I guess that was a
recommend fer bravery. But these fellers will be ready fer us, won't
they?"

"We can trick them easily. I've been thinking of a plan all afternoon.
We don't know just where they are now, so we can't rake them in
to-night. We'll have to wait until they come to us. My plan is to have a
half-dozen competent private detectives up from New York. We can scatter
them through the audience next Thursday night, and when the right time
comes we can land on every one of those fellows like hawks on spring
chickens. I know the chief of a big private agency in New York, and I
think the best plan is to have him send up some good men. It won't cost
much, and I'd rather have those fearless practical men here than all the
rubes you could deputise. One of 'em is worth ten of your
fellow-citizens, Mr. Crow, begging your pardon for the remark. You and I
can keep the secret and we can do the right thing, but we would be asses
to take more Tinkletown asses into our confidence. If you'll agree, I'll
write to Mr. Pinkerton this evening. He can have his men here, disguised
and ready for work, by Thursda