There was, first, the mysterious disappearance of Abi-
gail Prim, the only daughter of Oakdale's wealthiest cit-
izen; there was the equally mysterious robbery of the
Prim home. Either one of these would have been suffi-
cient to have set Oakdale's multitudinous tongues wag-
ging for days; but they were not all. Old John Baggs, the
city's best known miser, had suffered a murderous as-
sault in his little cottage upon the outskirts of town,
and was even now lying at the point of death in The
Samaritan Hospital. That robbery had been the motive
was amply indicated by the topsy-turvy condition of the
contents of the three rooms which Baggs called home.
As the victim still was unconscious no details of the
crime were obtainable. Yet even this atrocious deed had
been capped by one yet more hideous.
Reginald Paynter had for years been looked upon
half askance and yet with a certain secret pride by Oak-
dale. He was her sole bon vivant in the true sense of
the word, whatever that may be. He was always spoken
of in the columns of The Oakdale Tribune as 'that well
known man-about-town,' or 'one of Oakdale's most prom-
inent clubmen.' Reginald Paynter had been, if not the
only, at all events the best dressed man in town.
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