The Daughter of Anderson Crow
108 pages
English

The Daughter of Anderson Crow

-

Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe
Tout savoir sur nos offres
108 pages
English
Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe
Tout savoir sur nos offres

Informations

Publié par
Publié le 08 décembre 2010
Nombre de lectures 23
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 1 Mo

Extrait

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Daughter of Anderson Crow, by George Barr McCutcheon, Illustrated by B. Martin Justice This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: The Daughter of Anderson Crow Author: George Barr McCutcheon Release Date: January 27, 2005 [eBook #14818] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW*** E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Charlie Kirschner, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team Anderson Crow THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW BY GEORGE BARR MCCUTCHEON Author of Beverly of Graustark , Jane Cable, etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY B. MARTIN JUSTICE New York Dodd, Mead and Company 1907 CONTENTS CHAPTER I. ANDERSON CROW, DETECTIVE II. THE PURSUIT BEGINS III. THE CULPRITS IV. ANDERSON RECTIFIES AN ERROR V. THE BABE ON THE DOORSTEP VI. REFLECTION AND DEDUCTION VII. THE MYSTERIOUS VISITOR VIII. SOME YEARS GO BY IX. THE VILLAGE QUEEN X. ROSALIE HAS PLANS OF HER OWN XI. ELSIE BANKS XII. THE SPELLING-BEE XIII. A TINKLETOWN SENSATION XIV. A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY XV. ROSALIE DISAPPEARS XVI. THE HAUNTED HOUSE XVII. WICKER BONNER, HARVARD XVIII. THE MEN IN THE SLEIGH XIX. WITH THE KIDNAPERS XX. IN THE CAVE XXI. THE TRAP-DOOR XXII. JACK, THE GIANT KILLER XXIII. TINKLETOWN'S CONVULSION XXIV. THE FLIGHT OF THE KIDNAPERS XXV. AS THE HEART GROWS OLDER XXVI. THE LEFT VENTRICLE XXVII. THE GRIN DERISIVE XXVIII. THE BLIND MAN'S EYES XXIX. THE MYSTERIOUS QUESTIONER XXX. THE HEMISPHERE TRAIN ROBBERY XXXI. "AS YOU LIKE IT" XXXII. THE LUCK OF ANDERSON CROW XXXIII. BILL BRIGGS TELLS A TALE XXXIV. ELSIE BANKS RETURNS XXXV. THE STORY IS TOLD XXXVI. ANDERSON CROW'S RESIGNATION ILLUSTRATIONS Anderson Crow (Frontispiece) "'Safe for a minute or two at least,' he whispered" "A baby, alive and warm, lay packed in the blankets" "September brought Elsie Banks" "The teacher was amazingly pretty on this eventful night" "'What is the meaning of all this?'" The haunted house Wicker Bonner "Rosalie was no match for the huge woman" "She shrank back from another blow which seemed impending" "Left the young man to the care of an excellent nurse" "'I think I understand, Rosalie'" "'I beg your pardon,' he said humbly'" "It was a wise, discreet old oak" "The huge automobile had struck the washout" THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW CHAPTER I Anderson Crow, Detective He was imposing, even in his pensiveness. There was no denying the fact that he was an important personage in Tinkletown, and to the residents of Tinkletown that meant a great deal, for was not their village a perpetual monument to the American Revolution? Even the most generalising of historians were compelled to devote at least a paragraph to the battle of Tinkletown, while some of the more enlightened gave a whole page and a picture of the conflict that brought glory to the sleepy inhabitants whose ancestors were enterprising enough to annihilate a whole company of British redcoats, once on a time. Notwithstanding all this, a particularly disagreeable visitor from the city once remarked, in the presence of half a dozen descendants (after waiting twenty minutes at the post-office for a dime's worth of stamps), that Tinkletown was indeed a monument, but he could not understand why the dead had been left unburied. There was excellent cause for resentment, but the young man and his stamps were far away before the full force of the slander penetrated the brains of the listeners. Anderson Crow was as imposing and as rugged as the tallest shaft of marble in the little cemetery on the edge of the town. No one questioned his power and authority, no one misjudged his altitude, and no one overlooked his dignity. For twenty-eight years he had served Tinkletown and himself in the triple capacity of town marshal, fire chief and street commissioner. He had a system of government peculiarly his own; and no one possessed the heart or temerity to upset it, no matter what may have been the political inducements. It would have been like trying to improve the laws of nature to put a new man in his place. He had become a fixture that only dissolution could remove. Be it said, however, that dissolution did not have its common and accepted meaning when applied to Anderson Crow. For instance, in discoursing upon the obnoxious habits of the town's most dissolute rake—Alf Reesling—Anderson had more than once ventured the opinion that "he was carrying his dissolution entirely too far." And had not Anderson Crow risen to more than local distinction? Had not his fame gone abroad throughout the land? Not only was he the Marshal of Tinkletown at a salary of $200 a year, but he was president of the County Horse-thief Detectives' Association and also a life-long delegate to the State Convention of the Sons of the Revolution. Along that line, let it be added, every parent in Tinkletown bemoaned the birth of a daughter, because that simple circumstance of origin robbed the society's roster of a new name. Anderson Crow, at the age of forty-nine, had a proud official record behind him and a guaranteed future ahead. Doubtless it was of this that he was thinking, as he leaned pensively against the town hitching-rack and gingerly chewed the blade of wire-grass which dangled even below the chin whiskers that had been with him for twenty years. The faraway expression in his watery-blue eyes gave evidence that he was as great reminiscently as he was personally. So successful had been his career as a law preserver, that of late years no evil-doer had had the courage to ply his nefarious games in the community. The town drunkard, Alf Reesling, seldom appeared on the streets in his habitual condition, because, as he dolefully remarked, he would deserve arrest and confinement for "criminal negligence," if for nothing else. The marshal's fame as a detective had long since escaped from the narrow confines of Tinkletown. He was well known at the county seat, and on no less than three occasions had his name mentioned in the "big city" papers in connection with the arrest of notorious horse-thieves. And now the whole town was trembling with a new excitement, due to the recognition accorded her triple official. On Monday morning he had ventured forth from his office in the long-deserted "calaboose," resplendent in a brand-new nickel-plated star. By noon everybody in town knew that he was a genuine "detective," a member of the great organisation known as the New York Imperial Detective Association; and that fresh honour had
  • Univers Univers
  • Ebooks Ebooks
  • Livres audio Livres audio
  • Presse Presse
  • Podcasts Podcasts
  • BD BD
  • Documents Documents