He was allowed to stroke his whiskers in peace and to think to his heart's content.

By nightfall his face had become an inscrutable mask, and then it was known that the President of Bramble County's Horse-Thief Detective Association was determined to fathom the great problem.

Stealthily he went up to the great attic in his home and inspected his "disguises." In some far-off period of his official career he had purchased the most amazing collection of false beards, wigs and garments that any stranded comedian ever disposed of at a sacrifice.

He tried each separate article, seeking for the best individual effect; then he tried them collectively.

It would certainly have been impossible to recognise him as Anderson Crow.