Chapter Twelve
The residents of Stumpville were in a tizzy about the Dillinger-style bank hold-up that had taken place in their quiet little town with a population of just under two-hundred, a few of whom—despite having been counted in the last census—had four legs. The mayor had a reputation for being creative when it came to getting government funding for his rural fiefdom, which likely explained how he’d held on to his office for so long. What did it matter if Duke the coonhound or Marmaduke the pit bull terrier had been counted in the population figures? They were legitimate residents of Stumpville too.
The bank robbery was the biggest thing to hit Stumpville in the town’s history. Even the old-timers who’d been part of the scenery for as long as anyone could remember agreed that the
