Part 7 (1/2)
Comes from the three times I got drunk back in the fall of 'ninety-three when my cousin was here from Albany fer a visit. I _had_ to entertain him, didn't I? An' there wasn't any other way to do it in this jerk-water town, was there? An' ever since then the windbags in this town have been prayin' fer me an' pityin' my poor wife. That's what a feller gits fer livin' in a--”
”Now, now!” admonished Anderson soothingly. ”Don't git excited, Alf. You deserve a lot o' credit. Ain't many men, I tell you, could break off sudden like that, an'--”
”Oh, you go to gra.s.s!” exclaimed Alf hotly.
Anderson inspected him closely. ”Lemme smell your breath, Alf Reesling,”
he commanded.
”What's the use?” growled Alf. ”Wouldn't last fer twenty-three years, would it?”
”Well, you talk mighty queer,” said the marshal, unconvinced. He couldn't imagine such a thing as a strictly sober man telling him to go to gra.s.s. He was the most important man in Tinkletown.
Further discussion was prevented by the approach of Mr. Crow's daughter, Susie, accompanied by a tall, pink-faced young man in a resplendent checked suit and a dazzling red necktie. They came from Brubaker's popular drugstore and ice-cream ”parlour,” two doors below.
”h.e.l.lo, Pop,” said Susie gaily, as the couple sauntered past their half-halting seniors.
”H'are you, Mr. Crow?” was the young man's greeting, uttered with the convulsive earnestness of sudden embarra.s.sment. ”Fine day, ain't it?”
Mr. Crow said that it was, and then both he and Alf stopped short in their tracks and gazed intently at the backs of the young people. Even as they stared, a fiery redness enveloped the ears of Susie's companion.
A few steps farther on he turned his head and looked back. Something that may be described as sheepish defiance marked that swift, involuntary glance.
Mr. Reesling broke the silence. There was a worried, sympathetic note in his voice.
”Got on his Sunday clothes, Anderson, and this is only Wednesday. Beats the Dutch, don't it?”
”I wonder--” began Mr. Crow, and then closed his lips so tightly and so abruptly that his spa.r.s.e chin whiskers stuck out almost horizontally.
He started off briskly in the wake of the young people. Alf, forgetting his own apprehensions in the face of this visible manifestation, shuffled along a few paces behind.
Miss Crow and her companion turned the corner below and were lost to view.
”By gosh,” said Alf, suddenly increasing his speed until he came abreast of the other; ”you better hurry, Anderson. Justice Robb's in his office.
I seen his feet in the winder a little while ago.”
”They surely can't be thinkin' of--” Mr. Crow did not complete the sentence.
”Why not?” demanded Alf. ”Everybody else is. And it would be just like that Schultz boy to do it without an invitation. Ever since this war's been goin' on them Schultzes have been blowin' about always bein'
prepared fer anything. German efficiency's what they're always throwin'
up to people. I bet he's been over to the county seat an' got a license to--”
Anderson interrupted him with a snort. He put his hand on his right hip pocket, where something bulged ominously, and quickened his pace.
”I been watchin' these Schultzes fer nearly a year,” said he, ”an' the whole caboodle of 'em are spies.”
They turned the corner. Susie and her companion were on the point of disappearing in a doorway fifty yards down Sickle Street.
Anderson slowed up. He removed his broad felt hat with the gold cord around it, and mopped his forehead.