"Here's his letter to me. I'll read it to you." In the gathering dusk
Gregory read the letter to the marshal of Tinkletown. "Now, you see," he
said, at the close of the astounding epistle, "this means that if we
observe strict secrecy, we may have the game in our hands. No one must
hear a word of this. They may have spies right here in Tinkletown. We
can succeed only by keeping our mouths sealed."
"Tighter'n beeswax," promised Anderson Crow.
Briefly, the letter to Andrew Gregory was an exposure of the plans of
the great train-robber gang, together with their whereabouts on a
certain day to come. They were to swoop down on Tinkletown on the night
of the open-air performance of "As You Like It," and their most
desperate coup was to be the result. The scheme was to hold up and rob
the entire audience while the performance was going on. Anderson Crow
was in a cold perspiration. The performance was but three days off, and
he felt that he required three months for preparation.
"How in thunder are we goin' to capture that awful gang, jest you an'
me?" he asked, voicing his doubts and fears.
"We'll have to engage help, that's all."
"We'll need a regiment."
"Don't you think it. Buck up, old fellow, don't be afraid."
"Afeerd? Me? I don't know what it is to be skeered. Didn't you ever hear
about how I landed them fellers that kidnaped my daughter Rosalie? Well,
you jest ast some one 'at knows about it.
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