“Any one seen Pastor MacFarlane?” went on Anderson.  “Wick Bonner give me a hunderd dollar bill to give him fer performin’ the ceremony up to our house that night.  G’way, Ed Higgins!  I’m not goin’ ‘round showin’ that bill to people.  If robbers got onto the fact I have it, they’d probably try to steal it.  I don’t keer if you ain’t seen that much money in one piece.  That’s none of my lookout.  Say, are you comin’ to the town meetin’ to-night?”

They were all at the meeting of the town board that night.  It was held, as usual, in Odd Fellows’ Hall, above Peterson’s dry-goods store, and there was not so much as standing room in the place when the clerk read the minutes of the last meeting.  Word had gone forth that something unusual was to happen.  It was not idle rumour, for soon after the session began, Anderson Crow arose to address the board.

“Gentlemen,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, “I have come before you as I notified you I would.  I hereby tender my resignation as marshal of Tinkletown, street commissioner and chief of the fire department—­an’ any other job I may have that has slipped my mind.  I now suggest that you app’int Mr. Ed Higgins in my place.  He has wanted the job fer some time, an’ says it won’t interfere with his business any more than it did with mine.  I have worked hard all these years an’ I feel that I ought to have a rest.  Besides, it has got to be so that thieves an’ other criminals won’t visit Tinkletown on account o’ me, an’ I think the town is bein’ held back considerable in that way.  What’s the use havin’ a marshal an’ a jail ef nobody comes here to commit crimes?  They have to commit ’em in New York City er Chicago nowadays, jest because it’s safer there than it is here.  Look at this last case I had.  Wasn’t that arranged in New York?  Well, it shouldn’t be that way.  Even the train robbers put up their job in New York.  I feel that the best interests of the town would be served ef I resign an’ give the criminals a chance.  You all know Ed Higgins.  He will ketch ’em if anybody kin.  I move that he be app’inted.”

The motion prevailed, as did the vote of thanks, which was vociferously called for in behalf of Anderson Crow.

“You honour me,” said the ex-marshal, when the “ayes” died away.  “I promise to help Marshal Higgins in ever’ way possible.  I’ll tell him jest what to do in everything.  I wish to say that I am not goin’ out of the detective business, however.  I’m goin’ to open an agency of my own here.  All sorts of detective business will be done at reasonable prices.  I had these cards printed at the Banner office to-day, an’ Mr. Squires is goin’ to run an ad. fer me fer a year in the paper.”

He proudly handed a card to the president of the board and then told the crowd that each person present could have one by applying to his son Roscoe, who would be waiting in the hallway after the meeting.  The card read: 

“Anderson Crow, Detective. 
All kinds of cases Taken and Satisfaction
Guaranteed. 
Berth mysteries a Specialty.”