Then, a hundred feet ahead, his lights fell upon the dauntless, abandoned flivver

Words failed Mr. Crow

The Rev. Mr. Maltby, pastor of the Congregational Church, happened to be passing the town hall

Several heartbroken gentlemen threatened to shoot themselves

"The celebrated Anderson Crow?" asked the man with the glasses

The Marshal started off in the direction of the "shanty"

"I—I surrender! I give in!" he yelled

Something terrible must have happened or Marshal Crow wouldn't be summoned in any such imperative manner as this

In the centre of this group was the new candidate for town marshal

Harry Squires stepped to the front of the platform

When they appeared on the street together

He altered his course, and as she passed him, the flat of the spade landed with impelling force

Eight or ten people were congregated in front of the Fry house

The veiled lady made her daily excursions in the big high-powered car

Yanking open the screen-door, he plunged headlong into the softly lighted veranda

He was surrounded by conquerors

Over him stood two men with pistols levelled at the white, terrified face

"Hold on, Mort!" called out Mr. Crow. "Don't monkey with that trunk"

His wife was now standing guard over it on the porch of the Grand View Hotel

These smiling, complacent women formed the Death Watch that was to witness the swift, inevitable finish of the Sunlight Bar

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