their money and their
watches. A half-hearted protest went up to Anderson Crow, but it was
checked summarily by the "searching party." It was well for the poor
marshal that he never knew what the audience thought of him at that
ghastly moment.
It was all over in five minutes. The detectives had searched every
prosperous-looking person in the audience, under the very nose and guns
of Marshal Crow, and they were sardonically bidding the assemblage a
fond good-bye from the flapping doorway in the side wall. Andrew Gregory
addressed the crowd, smiling broadly.
"We found a good many more robbers in the crowd than we could
conveniently handle, ladies and gentlemen. In fact, I never came across
such a rare collection of hold-up men outside of Wall Street. The only
perfectly honest man in Tinkletown to-night is Anderson Crow, your
esteemed marshal. Believe me, he is ridiculously honest. He may be a
damn fool, but he is honest. Don't blame him. Thanking you, one and all,
for your generous help in our search for the train robbers, we bid you
an affectionate farewell. We may meet again if you travel extensively on
express trains. Good-night!"
With a taunting laugh, Andrew Gregory dropped the flap and leaped after
his companions. Bracken's chauffeur lay senseless by the roadside, and
one of the "detectives" sat in his seat. Even as the audience opened
its collective mouth to shout its wrath and surprise, the big touring
car, with six armed men aboard, leaped away with a rush. Down the dark
road it flew like an express train, its own noise drowning the shouts of
the multitude, far behind.
Bonner, recovering from his stupefaction and rage, led the pursuit,
first commanding Rosalie to hurry home with the women and lock herself
safely indoors.
Anderson Crow, realising what a dupe he had been in the hands of the
clever scoundrels, was covered with fear and shame. The outraged crowd
might have killed him had not his escape been made under cover of
darkness. Shivering and moaning in abject misery, the pride of
Tinkletown fled unseeing, unthinking into the forest along the river. He
was not to know until afterward that his "detectives" had stripped the
rich sojourners of at least ten thousand dollars in money and jewels. It
is not necessary to say that the performance of "As You Like It" came to
an abrupt end, because it was not as they liked it. Everybody knew by
this time that they had seen the celebrated "train robbers."
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