obtained certain desirable facts in connection with the
taking-off of Jacob Miller, Marshal Crow ventured boldly, confidently,
into the business section of the town. He was now in a position to
discuss the occurrence with equanimity,--in fact, with indifference.
Moreover, he could account for his physical absence from the centre of
the stage, so to speak, by reminding all would-be critics that he was
mentally on the job long before Ed Higgins made the gruesome discovery.
In other words, it served his purpose to "lie low" and observe from
well-calculated obscurity the progress of events.

Now, Tinkletown had not experienced the shock and thrill of suicide in a
great many years. Sundry citizens had met death in an accidental way,
and others had suddenly died of old age, but no one had intentionally
shuffled off since Jasper Wiggins succeeded in completing a hitherto
unsuccessful life by pulling the trigger of a single-barrelled shotgun
with his big toe, back in the fall of '83.

The horrendous act of Jacob Miller, therefore, created a sensation.

Tinkletown was agog with excitement and awe. Everybody was talking about
Jake. He was, by all odds, the most important man in town. Alive, he
had been perhaps the least important.

He was the sort of citizen you always think of last when trying to take
a mental census of the people you know by sight.

Once, and only once, had Jake seen his name in the columns of the
_Weekly Banner_, and he was so impressed that he cut the article out of
the paper and pasted it under the sweat-band of his best hat. It
happened to be the obituary notice of a farmer bearing the same name,
but that made no difference to Jake; he was vicariously honoured by
having his name in print,--and in rather large type at that.

And now he was to have at least half a page in the _Banner_, with his
name in huge black letters, double column, something like this:

JAKE MILLER HANGS HIMSELF!!!

Column after column of Jake Miller and he not there to rejoice!

Jake Miller on the front page, crowding out the news from Paris and
Washington, displacing local Society "items," shoving the ordinary
"obituaries" out of their hallowed corners, confiscating space that
belonged to the Lady Maccabees and other lodges, supplanting
thoughtfully prepared matter in the editorial column,--why, the next
issue of the _Banner_ would be a Jake Miller number from beginning to
end. And Jake not there to enjoy it all!

Jake