It is only necessary to say that the
officious gentleman from Boggs City finally gave up the quest in disgust
and retired into the oblivion usual to county officials who try to be
progressive. It was many weeks, however, before Anderson slept soundly.
He was once more happy in the consciousness that Rosalie had been saved
from disaster and that he had done his duty by her.
"I'd like to know how them doggone jays from Boggs City expected to find
out anything about that child when I hain't been able to," growled Mr.
Crow in Lamson's store one night. "If they'll jest keep their blamed
noses out of this affair I'll find out who her parents are some day. It
takes time to trace down things like this. I guess I know what I'm
doin', don't I, boys?"
"That's what you do, Anderson," said Mr. Lamson, as Anderson reached
over and took a handful of licorice drops from the jar on the counter.
CHAPTER IX
The Village Queen
The spring of 1903 brought Rosalie back to Tinkletown after her second
and last year with Miss Brown in New York City. The sun seemed brighter,
the birds sang more blithely, the flowers took on a new fragrance and
the village spruced up as if Sunday was the only day in the week. The
young men of the town trembled when she passed them by, and not a few of
them grew thin and haggard for want of food and sleep, having lost both
appetite and repose through a relapse in love.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86