"Mr. Brewster said that Mr. Jack wasn't born to be hanged, and for me to
have an extry plate laid at the table for him to-night," concluded
William with an expressive grin.




CHAPTER V

The Babe on the Doorstep


It was midnight in Tinkletown, many months after the events mentioned in
the foregoing chapters, and a blizzard was raging. The February wind
rasped through the bare trees, shrieked around the corners of lightless
houses and whipped its way through the scurrying snow with all the rage
of a lion. The snow, on account of the bitter cold in the air, did not
fly in big flakes, but whizzed like tiny bullets, cutting the flesh of
men and beasts like the sting of wasps. It was a good night to be
indoors over a roaring fire or in bed between extra blankets. No one,
unless commanded by emergency, had the temerity to be abroad that night.

The Crow family snoozed comfortably in spite of the calliope shrieks of
the wind. The home of the town marshal was blanketed in peace and the
wind had no terrors for its occupants. They slept the sleep of the
toasted. The windows may have rattled a bit, perhaps, and the shutters
may have banged a trifle too remorselessly, but the Crows were not to be
disturbed.

The big, old-fashioned clock in the hall downstairs was striking twelve