“Two yeggs known as Dopey Charlie and the General,” replied Burton. “They are in the jail at Oakdale; but they don't know yet that I know they are guilty. They think they are being held merely as suspects in the case of your daughter's disappearance, whereas I have known since morning that they were implicated in the killing of Baggs; for after I got them in the car I went behind the bushes where we discovered them and dug up everything that was missing from Baggs' house, as nearly as is known--currency, gold and bonds.” “Good!” exclaimed Mr. Prim. On the trip back to Oakdale, Abigail Prim cuddled in the back seat beside her father, told him all that she could think to tell of Bridge and his goodness to her. “But the man didn't know you were a girl,” suggested Mr. Prim. “There were two other girls with us, both very pretty,” replied Abigail, “and he was as courteous and kindly to them as a man could be to a woman. I don't care anything about his clothes, Daddy; Bridge is a gentleman born and raised--anyone could tell it after half an hour with him.” Bridge sat on the front seat with the driver and one of Burton's men, while Burton, sitting in the back seat next to the girl, could not but overhear her conversation. “You are right,” he said. “Bridge, as you call him, is a gentleman. He comes of one of the finest families of Virginia and one of the wealthiest. You need have no hesitancy, Mr. Prim, in inviting him into your home.” For a while the three sat in silence; and then Jonas Prim turned to his daughter. “Gail,” he said, “before we get home I wish you'd tell me why you did this thing. I think you'd rather tell me before we see Mrs. P.” “It was Sam Benham, Daddy,” whispered the girl. “I couldn't marry him. I'd rather die, and so I ran away. I was going to be a tramp; but I had no idea a tramp's existence was so adventurous. You won't make me marry him, Daddy, will you? I wouldn't be happy, Daddy.” “I should say not, Gail; you can be an old maid all your life if you want to.” “But I don't want to--I only want to choose my own husband,” replied Abigail. Mrs. Prim met them all in the living-room. At sight of Abigail in the ill-fitting man's clothing she raised her hands in holy horror; but she couldn't see Bridge at all, until Burton found an opportunity to draw her to one side and whisper something in her ear, after which she was graciousness personified to the dusky Bridge, insisting that he spend a fortnight with them to recuperate. Between them, Burton and Jonas Prim fitted Bridge out as he had not been dressed in years, and with the feel of fresh linen and pressed clothing, even if ill fitting, a sensation of comfort and ease pervaded him which the man would not have thought possible from such a source an hour before. He smiled ruefully as Burton looked him over. “I venture to say,” he drawled, “that there are other things in the world besides the open road.” Burton smiled.