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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Daughter of Anderson Crow"

The authorities
were baffled. A huge reward was offered in the hope that it might induce
some discontented underling in the band to expose his comrades.
"Are you goin' after 'em, Anderson?" asked old Mr. Borton, with
unfailing faith in the town's chief officer.
"Them fellers is in Asia by this time," vouchsafed Mr. Crow scornfully,
forgetting that less than a week had elapsed since the robbery. He
flecked a fly from his detective's badge and then struck viciously at
the same insect when it straightway attacked his G.A.R. emblem.
"I doubt it," said Mr. Lamson. "Like as not they're right here in this
State, mebby in this county. You can't tell about them slick
desperadoes. Hello, Harry! Has anything more been heard from the train
robbers?" Harry Squires approached the group with something like news in
his face.
"I should say so," he said. "The darned cusses robbed the State Express
last night at Vanderskoop and got away with thirteen hundred dollars.
Say, they're wonders! The engineer says they're only five of them."
"Why, gosh dern it, Vanderskoop's only the fourth station west of Boggs
City!" exclaimed Anderson Crow, pricking up his official ear. "How in
thunder do you reckon they got up here in such a short time?"
"They probably stopped off on their way back from Asia," drily remarked
Mr. Lamson; but it passed unnoticed.


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