The Daughter of Anderson Crow by George Barr McCutcheon
page 17 of 310 (05%)
page 17 of 310 (05%)
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"Hey, Mr. Crow!" cried a shrill voice from the street. He looked up and saw a small boy coming on the run. "What's up, Toby?" asked Mr. Crow, all a-tremble. He knew! "They just got a telephone from Boggs City," panted the boy, "down to the _Banner_ office. Harry Squires says for you to hurry down--buggy and all. It's been stole." "Good Lord!" gasped Anderson. His badge danced before his eyes and then seemed to shrivel. Quite a crowd had collected at the _Banner_ office. There was a sudden hush when the marshal drove up. Even the horse felt the intensity of the moment. He shied at a dog and then kicked over the dashboard, upsetting Anderson Crow's meagre dignity and almost doing the same to the vehicle. "You're a fine detective!" jeered Harry Squires; and poor old Anderson hated him ever afterward. "What have you heerd?" demanded the marshal. "There's been a terrible murder at Boggs City, that's all. The chief of police just telephoned to us that a farmer named Grover was found dead in a ditch just outside of town--shot through the head, his pockets rifled. It is known that he started to town to deposit four hundred dollars hog-money in the bank. The money is missing, and so are his horse and buggy. A young fellow was seen in the neighbourhood early this morning--a stranger. The chief's description corresponds with the man |
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