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 ?" "We--we--we're lookin' fer a tramp who said he robbed a hen roost," faltered Isaac Porter.
"What is the meaning of all this ?" called a strong voice from the dining-room, and the flabbergasted Tinkletownians turned to face Colonel Randall himself, the owner of the house.
"Derned if I know!" muttered Anderson Crow; and he spoke the truth.
"Why, it's Anderson Crow!" cried a gay young voice.
"Jumpin' Jehosophat!" ejaculated the detective; "it's the body!" "The school-teacher!" exclaimed the surprised Tinkletownians, as with their eyes they proceeded to search the figure before them for blood stains.

But no sooner had the chorused words escaped their lips than they realised how wretchedly commonplace was their blundering expression in comparison with the faultlessly professional phraseology of their leader; and, overwhelmed with mortification, the posse ached to recall them; for that the correct technical term had been applied by one for years trained to the vernacular of his calling was little consolation to these sensitive souls, now consumed with envy.
In the meantime, the quarry, if we may be permitted so to designate her, stood before them as pretty as a picture.