less than two inches of space. Even his place of residence was
a matter of doubt.

The Marshal put on his spectacles and studied the signature. As far as
he could make out, the man's name was something like "Winnumnn
Millmmmln." It was a name that baffled him. The longer he studied it,
the worse it became.

"Seems to me, Jennie, if I was runnin' this hotel, I'd have Willie
Spence register for the guests, and save 'em the trouble."

"Can't you make it out?"

"Course I can," he replied promptly. "It's as plain as day to me, but
I'll bet you a good cigar you can't make it out."

She fell into the trap. "All right, I take you up. It's Mr. & Mrs.
George F. Fox."

Mr. Crow stared at her for a second or two. Then he recovered himself.
"You're right," he said. "What kind of a cigar do you smoke, Jennie?"

As he had feared, she promptly named the highest-priced cigar she had in
stock, a three-for-a-quarter brand, and then coolly announced that if
he'd leave a dime on the show case, she'd get it.

"Got his wife with him, I see," remarked Anderson.

"Yep," said Mrs. Bloomer.

"What's his business?"

"I asked him last night," said she, pausing in her work to fix Anderson
with a rather penetrating look. "He said he was a trained elephant."

"A--a what?"

"A trained elephant."

"You don't say so!"

"And his wife is a snake-charmer," she added uneasily.

Anderson blinked rapidly. "Well, of all the--But what on earth's he
doing here in Tinkletown?"

"I didn't ask any more questions after that," said she, with a furtive
glance up the stairway. "I'd give a good deal to know what they've got
in them big black valises they brought with 'em. Three times as big as
regular valises, with brass trimmin's. I hope she aint got any reptiles
in 'em."

Marshal Crow took that instant to consult the office clock. "By ginger!"
he exclaimed, with some sprightliness. "I got to be movin' along. I'm
follerin' up a clue in that dog case."

Mrs. Bloomer's anxious gaze was bent on a dark corner back of the
stairway.

"I do hope, if she _has_ got any snakes in them valises, she won't let
'em get loose and go crawlin' all over the place. I----"

Mr. Crow sent a quick, searching look about the office as he strode
toward the door.

"Ain't you going up to his room?" inquired Mrs. Bloomer.

"Not just now," replied Anderson, and closed the door quickly behind
him.

Alf Reesling and his companions were waiting impatiently on the
side