"Jim Dawkins," cried the detective, "killed that girl! So now, free this poor man thou hast persecuted these many months, and hang that murderer, that beast, that pervert, for he is guilty!" It was some time before the people recovered. Many of them had to pinch themselves to be quite sure they were awake; for it was positively incredible, after all this waiting, after all this angling, after all the mystery, that this detective, the greatest one in all the world, by his own admission and that of the press, should come right back to where the case had begun. Jim Dawkins was the Negro accused in the first instance. And now we hear from the "Big Noise"--and it made some noise now. Moreover, the public, with a relief from their long tension, began to hear it. Its editor had once run for president, on a ticket we cannot recall; moreover, he had the reputation of being opposed to every man elected to anything in the state and the United States. This included the democrats, of whom he, although a southerner, was not one. The people now bought and read his paper with as much eagerness as they had the others, in the beginning. _The Great Detective_ was absent for a week following his sensational discovery. (?) Then he returned, but alas! The day of angles had become contagious, as we shall see presently. Following his return, he happened to go to a nearby town to view the case from that angle. This town happened to have been the home of the murdered girl. So, when the great detective whirled into town, seated in the tonneau of a huge automobile, they proceeded at once to entertain him with true southern chivalry. (?) A night extra told all about it, before he had returned to Attalia, which was marvelous, when one considers this place was only twenty miles away, and from reports, the car took its highest speed on the return, at least it did in leaving the other town. But, lest we forget, the eggs used at this entertainment could not all have been guaranteed as the freshest. And with a few more words, we leave this story. Shortly after this, Edwards and Smyles took their leave. Wyeth missed them considerably, for he had grown very fond of them about the office. When they were far, far away, the mystery connected with their occupation was still unsolved. Then, one day while Sidney was folding up an old newspaper, his eye happened to fall upon an article of two paragraphs. It related to an incident that cleared up the whole thing, and was to the effect that, while doing some sleuthing on the ground floor, Smyles had, after refusing to explain the occasion of his mysterious action, been arrested and locked up for an hour, at the end of which the great detective had come forward and got him out.