He put poor old Alf Reesling through the "sweat box" time and again, and worthless Tom Folly had many an unhappy night, wondering why the marshal was shadowing him so persistently.
"Alf," demanded Anderson during one of the sessions, "where were you on the night of February 18, 1883? Don't hesitate. Speak up. Where were you? Aha, you cain't answer. That looks suspicious."
"You bet I c'n answer," said Alf bravely, blinking his blear eyes. "I was in Tinkletown."
"What were you doin' that night?"
"I was sleepin'."
"At what time? Keerful now, don't lie."
"What time o' night did they leave her on your porch?" demanded Alf in turn.
"It was jest half past 'leven."
"You're right, Anderson. That's jest the time I was asleep."
"C'n you prove it? Got witnesses?"