I deduce all this by sizin' up the--" and he went
on to tell how he reached his conclusions, all of which were wrong.
They were invitations to social affairs in Boston. "But I got somethin'
important to tell you, Mr. Bonner. I think a trap is bein' set fer me by
the desperadoes we're after. I guess I'm gittin' too hot on their trail.
I had an ananymous letter to-day."
"A what?"
"Ananymous letter. Didn't you ever hear of one? This one was writ fer
the express purpose of lurin' me into a trap. They want to git me out of
the way. But I'll fool 'em. I'll not pay any attention to it."
"Goodness, Anderson, I bet you'll be assassinated yet!" cried his poor
wife. "I wish you'd give up chasin' people down."
"May I have a look at the letter, Mr. Crow?" asked Bonner. Anderson
stealthily drew the square envelope from his inside pocket and passed it
over.
"They've got to git up purty early to ketch me asleep," he said proudly.
Bonner drew the enclosure from the envelope. As he read, his eyes
twinkled and the corners of his mouth twitched, but his face was
politely sober as he handed the missive back to the marshal. "Looks like
a trap, don't it?" said Anderson. "You see there ain't no signature.
The raskils were afraid to sign a name."
"I wouldn't say anything to Miss Gray about this if I were you, Mr.
Crow. It might disturb her, you know," said Bonner.
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