The tongues ceased wagging
in order that they might turn hand-springs.
Find Abigail Prim, whispered some, and the mystery
will be solved. There were others charitable enough to
assume that Abigail had been kidnapped by the same
men who had murdered Paynter and wrought the other
lesser deeds of crime in peaceful Oakdale. The Oakdale
Tribune got out an extra that afternoon giving a resume
of such evidence as had appeared in the regular edition
and hinting at all the numerous possibilities suggested
by such matter as had come to hand since. Even fear
of old Jonas Prim and his millions had not been enough
to entirely squelch the newspaper instinct of the Trib-
une's editor. Never before had he had such an oppor-
tunity and he made the best of it, even repeating the
vague surmises which had linked the name of Abigail
to the murder of Reginald Paynter.
Jonas Prim was too busy and too worried to pay any
attention to the Tribune or its editor. He already had
the best operative that the best detective agency in the
nearest metropolis could furnish. The man had come to
Oakdale, learned all that was to be learned there, and
forthwith departed.
This, then, will be about all concerning Oakdale for
the present.
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