son that at the beginning of the
Crow dynasty a full year elapsed before Anderson could be convinced that
he actually had been victorious at the polls over his venerable
predecessor, ex-marshal Bunker, who had served uninterruptedly for
something like thirty years before him.

It took the wisest men in town nearly a year to persuade the incredulous
Mr. Bunker that he had been defeated, and also to prove to Mr. Crow that
he had been elected. Neither one of 'em would believe it.

It was the consensus of opinion, however, that Anderson Crow had
served, all told, thirty-eight years, the aforesaid hiatus being the
result of a decision on his part to permanently abandon public life in
order to carry on his work as a private detective. Mr. Ed. Higgins held
the office for two years and then retired, claiming that there wasn't
any sense in Tinkletown having _two_ marshals and only paying for one.
And, as the salary and perquisites were too meagre to warrant a
division, and the duties of office barely sufficient to keep _one_ man
awake, he arrived at the only conclusion possible: it was only fair that
he should split even with Anderson.

After thinking it over for some time, he decided that about the best way
to solve the problem was for him to take the pay and allow Anderson to
do the work,--an arrangement that was eminently satisfactory to the
entire population of Tinkletown.

Elections were held biennially. Every two years, in the spring, as
provided by statute, the voters of Tinkletown--unless otherwise
engaged--ambled up to the polling place in the rear of Hawkins's
Undertaking Emporium and voted not only for Anderson Crow, but for a
town clerk, a justice of the peace, and three selectmen. No one ever
thought of voting for any one except Mr. Crow. Once, and only once, was
there an opposition candidate for the office of Town Marshal. It is on
record that he did not receive a solitary vote.

Republicans and Democrats voted for Anderson with persistent fidelity,
and while there were notable contests for the other offices at nearly
every election, no one bothered himself about the marshal-ship.

The regular election was drawing near. Marshal Crow was mildly
concerned,--not about himself, but on account of the tremendous battle
that was to be waged for the office of town clerk. Henry Wimpelmeyer,
the proprietor of the tanyard, had come out for the office, and was
spending money freely. The incumbent, Ezra Pounder, had had a