Miss Crow and her companion turned the corner below and were lost to view.
"By gosh," said Alf, suddenly increasing his speed until he came abreast of the other; "you better hurry, Anderson. Justice Robb's in his office. I seen his feet in the winder a little while ago."
"They surely can't be thinkin' of—" Mr. Crow did not complete the sentence.
"Why not?" demanded Alf. "Everybody else is. And it would be just like that Schultz boy to do it without an invitation. Ever since this war's been goin' on them Schultzes have been blowin' about always bein' prepared fer anything. German efficiency's what they're always throwin' up to people. I bet he's been over to the county seat an' got a license to—"
Anderson interrupted him with a snort. He put his hand on his right hip pocket, where something bulged ominously, and quickened his pace.
"I been watchin' these Schultzes fer nearly a year," said he, "an' the whole caboodle of 'em are spies."
They turned the corner. Susie and her companion were on the point of disappearing in a doorway fifty yards down Sickle Street.
Anderson slowed up. He removed his broad felt hat with the gold cord around it, and mopped his forehead.
"That's the tin-type gallery," he said, a little out of breath.
"Worse an' more of it," said Alf. "That's the surest sign I know of. It never fails. Mollie an' me had our'n taken the day before we was married an'—an'—why, it's almost the same as a certificat', Anderson."