Tinkletown's Convulsion Anderson Crow was himself once more.

He was twenty years younger than when he went to bed the night before.

His joy and pride had reached the bursting point--dignity alone prevented the catastrophe.
"What do you expect to do with the gang, Mr.Crow ?" asked Bonner, reclining with amiable ease in the marshal's Morris chair.

He was feeling very comfortable, despite "Doc" Smith's stitches; and he could not help acknowledging, with more or less of a glow in his heart, that it was nice to play hero to such a heroine.
"Well, I'll protect 'em, of course.

Nobody c'n lynch 'em while I'm marshal of this town," Anderson said, forgetful of the fact that he had not been near the jail, where Master Bud still had full charge of affairs, keyless but determined.