CHAPTER XIV
A Case of Mistaken Identity
Detective Crow found little difficulty in gaining admittance to Colonel Randall's summer home. He had secreted his badge, and it was indeed a sorry-looking tramp who asked for a bite to eat at the kitchen door.
Three or four young women were busy with chafing dishes in this department of the house, and some good-looking young men were looking on and bothering them with attentions. In the front part of the house a score of people were laughing and making merry.
"Gosh!" said the new tramp, twisting his chin whiskers, "how many of you are there?"
"Oh, there are many more at home like us," trilled out one of the young women gaily. "You're just in time, you poor old thing, to have some of the bride-to-be's cake."
"I guess I'm in the wrong house," murmured Anderson blankly. "Is it a weddin'?"
"No; but there will be one before many days. It's just a reunion. How I wish Rosalie Gray were here!" cried another girl.
Just then there was a pounding on the door, and an instant later Isaac Porter stalked in at the head of the posse.
"Throw up your hands!" called Anderson, addressing himself to the posse, the members of which stopped in blank amazement. Some of them obligingly stuck their hands on high. "What do you want here?"