Simultaneously, with the beginning of the performance of
"As You like It," he was in his own barn-loft confronting Andrew Gregory
and the five bewhiskered assistants from New York City. Gregory had met
the detectives at the Inn and had guided them to the marshal's barn,
where final instructions were to be given. For half an hour the party
discussed plans with Anderson Crow, speaking in low, mysterious tones
that rang in the marshal's ears to his dying day.
"We've located those fellows," asserted Mr. Gregory firmly. "There can
be no mistake. They are already in the audience over there, and at a
signal will set to work to hold up the whole crowd. We must get the
drop on them, Mr. Crow, Don't do that! You don't need a disguise. Keep
those yellow whiskers in your pocket. The rest of us will wear
disguises. These men came here disguised because the robbers would be
onto them in a minute if they didn't. They know every detective's face
in the land. If it were not for these beards and wigs they'd have
spotted Pinkerton's men long ago. Now, you know your part in the affair,
don't you?"
"Yes, sir," respectfully responded Anderson, his chin whisker wobbling
pathetically.
"Then we're ready to proceed. It takes a little nerve, that's all, but
we'll soon have those robbers just where we want them," said Andrew
Gregory.
The second act of the play was fairly well under way when Orlando, in
the "green room," remarked to the stage director:
"What's that old rube doing back here, Ramsay? Why, hang it, man, he's
carrying a couple of guns.
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