Skirting the swamp, the party approached the haunted house over the narrow path which ran along the river bank.
Once in sight of the dilapidated cabin, which seemed to slink farther and farther back into the dense shadows of the late afternoon, with all the diffidence of the supernatural, the marshal called a halt and announced his plans.
"You kids go up an' tell them fellers I want to see 'em," he commanded.
The boys fell back and prepared to whimper.
"I don't want to," protested Bud.
"Why don't you go an' tell 'em yourself, Anderson ?" demanded Isaac Porter, the pump repairer.
"Thunderation, Ike, who's runnin' this thing ?" retorted Anderson Crow.
"I got a right to deputise anybody to do anything at any time.

Don't you s'pose I know how to handle a job like this?
I got my own idees how to waylay them raskils, an' I reckon I been in the detectin' business long enough to know how to manage a gol-derned tramp, ain't I?
How's that?
Who says I ain't ?" "Nobody said a word, Anderson," meekly observed Jim Borum.
"Well, I _thought_ somebody did.

An' I don't want nobody interferin' with an officer, either.

Bud, you an' them two Heffner boys go up an' tell them loafers to step down here right spry er I'll come up there an' see about it." "Gosh, Mr.Crow, I'm a-skeered to!" whimpered Bud.

The Heffner boys started for home on a dead run.
"Askeered to ?" sniffed Anderson.