Even the horse felt the intensity of the moment.

He shied at a dog and then kicked over the dashboard, upsetting Anderson Crow's meagre dignity and almost doing the same to the vehicle.
"You're a fine detective!" jeered Harry Squires; and poor old Anderson hated him ever afterward.
"What have you heerd ?" demanded the marshal.
"There's been a terrible murder at Boggs City, that's all.

The chief of police just telephoned to us that a farmer named Grover was found dead in a ditch just outside of town--shot through the head, his pockets rifled.

It is known that he started to town to deposit four hundred dollars hog-money in the bank.

The money is missing, and so are his horse and buggy.