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Updated: May 12, 2025
Clean stole her look out! Ketch him, Joe!" Anderson dropped limply into a hostler's arms. Rosalie Disappears Things had happened in Tinkletown that night. Alf Reesling finally found some one who would listen to his story. He told the minister and the minister alarmed the town.
All eyes were turned to Anderson Crow, who stood aloof, pondering as he had never pondered before. In one hand he held Miss Banks's bloody handkerchief and in the other a common school text-book on physiology. His badges and stars fairly revelled in their own importance. "Don't pester him with questions," warned Isaac Porter, addressing Alf Reesling, the town drunkard, who had just arrived.
"But the doctor says I must be quiet until this confounded thing heals a bit. Together, I think we could bluff the whole story out of those scoundrels." "Oh, never you fear," said the marshal; "I'll learn all there is to be learnt. You jest ask Alf Reesling what kind of a pumper I am." "Who is Alf Reesling?" "Ain't you heerd of him in Boston?
He had become a fixture that only dissolution could remove. Be it said, however, that dissolution did not have its common and accepted meaning when applied to Anderson Crow. For instance, in discoursing upon the obnoxious habits of the town's most dissolute rake Alf Reesling Anderson had more than once ventured the opinion that "he was carrying his dissolution entirely too far."
Everybody else understands how, don't you?" and he turned to the crowd. Everybody said yes. "Well, that shows what a fool you are, Ed. Don't bother me any more. I've got work to do." "Say, Anderson," began Alf Reesling from the outer circle, "I got something important to tell " "Who is that? Alf Reesling?" cried Anderson wrathfully. "Yes; I want to see you private, Anderson.
You know I been a widower fer three years." "I want you to understand one thing, Alf Reesling. A detective never knows anything till he proves it. Let me warn you, sir, you are under suspicion. An' now, let me tell you one thing more. Doggone your ornery hide, don't you ever laugh ag'in like you did jest now er I'll "
"You tell her to go to Halifax!" retorted Anderson Crow. "Is that all you want?" "They nabbed that murderer up to Billsport long 'bout 'leven o'clock," said Alf Reesling, the town drunkard. "We thought we'd row down and tell you so's you wouldn't be huntin' all night for the feller who hello, you got him, eh?" "Are you fellers lyin'?" cried poor Anderson Crow. "Not on your life.
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