"And this one on the other lapel is a Liberty Loan button,—one hundred dollars is what it represents, if anybody should ast you." "I recognized it at once, sir. I have one of my own." He raised his hand to his own lapel. "Why, hang it all, I forgot to remove it from my other coat this morning." "Well," said Anderson drily, "there 'pears to be some advantage in havin' only one coat." "Mr. Marshal," cut in the larger man brusquely, "we came to see you in regard to a matter of great importance—and, I may add, privacy. Having heard of your reputation for cleverness and infallibility—" "As everybody in the land has heard," put in the other. "—we desire your co-operation in an undertaking of considerable magnitude. Quite frankly, I do not see how we can succeed without your valuable assistance. You—" "Hold on! If you're tryin' to get me to subscribe to a set of books, so's my name at the head of the list will drag other suckers into—" "Not at all, sir—not at all. We are not book-agents, Mr. Marshal." "Well, what are ye?" "Metallurgists," said the florid one. "I see, I see," said Anderson, who didn't see at all. "You started off just like a book-agent, er a lightnin'-rod salesman." "My name is Bacon,—George Washington Bacon,—and my friend bears an even nobler monicker, if that be possible. He is Abraham Lincoln Bonaparte—a direct descendant of both of those illustrious gentlemen." "You don't say! I didn't know Lincoln was any connection of Bonaparte's." "It isn't generally known," the descendant informed him, with becoming modesty. "Well, I'm seventy-three years old an' I never heard—" "Seventy-three!" gasped Mr. Bonaparte, incredulously. "I don't believe it. You can't be more than fifty, Mr. Crow." "Do you suppose I fought in the Union Army before I was born?" demanded Mr. Crow. "Where'd I get this G. A. R. badge, lemme ast you? An' you don't think the citizens of this here town would elect a ten-year-old boy to the responsible position of town marshal, do you? Why, gosh snap it, I been Marshal o'
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