"Oh, off an' on I do a little detectin'. See my badge?"
"Am I suspected of a heinous crime?" she asked so abruptly that he gasped. "Won't you take off your cap, Mr. Crow?" He removed it sheepishly.
"Lord, no!" he exclaimed in confusion. "I mean the crime—not the cap. Well, I guess I'll be goin'. School's goin' to take up, I reckon. See you later, Miss Banks." He restored his cap to its accustomed place and was starting toward the door, a trifle dazed and bewildered.
"What is it that you wish to find out, Mr. Crow?" she suddenly called to him. He halted and faced about so quickly that his reply came like a shot out of a gun.
"I'm on the lookout fer a girl—an' she'll be's rich's Crowses if I c'n only find 'er. I dassent tell 'er name jest now," he went on, slowly retracing his steps, "'cause I don't want people—er her either, fer that matter—to git onter my scheme. But you jest wait." He was standing very close to her now and looking her full in the face. "You're sure you don't know anythin' 'bout her?"
"Why, how should I know? You've told me nothing."
"You've got purty good clothes fer a common school-teacher," he flung at her in an aggressive, impertinent tone, but the warm colour that swiftly rose to her cheeks forced him to recall his words, for he quickly tempered them with, "Er, at least, that's what all the women folks say."
"Oh, so some one has been talking about my affairs? Some of your excellent women want to know more about me than—"
"Don't git excited, Miss Banks," he interrupted; "the women ain't got anythin' to do with it—I mean, it's nothin' to them. I—"
"Mr. Crow," she broke in, "if there is anything you or anybody in Tinkletown wants to know about me you will have to deduce it for yourself. I believe that is what you call it—deduce? And now good-bye, Mr. Crow. Recess is over," she said pointedly; and Mr. Crow shuffled out as the children galloped in.