The marshal eyed each and every one of them, irrespective of position, condition or age, with a gleam so accusing that the Godliest of them flushed and then turned cold.

So knowing were these equitable looks that before night every woman in the village was constrained to believe the worst of her neighbour, and almost as ready to look with suspicion upon herself.
One thing was certain--business was at a standstill in Tinkletown.

The old men forgot their chess and checker games at the corner store; young men neglected their love affairs; women forgot to talk about each other; children froze their ears rather than miss any of the talk that went about the wintry streets; everybody was asking the question, "Whose baby is it ?" But the greatest sensation of all came late in the day when Mrs.Crow, in going over the garments worn by the babe, found a note addressed to Anderson Crow.

It was stitched to the baby's dress, and proved beyond question that the strange visitor of the night before had selected not only the house, but the individual.

The note was to the point.