Early the next morning, Serepta Grimes called Joseph Sikes on the telephone.
“Did Oliver Baxter stay all night with you?” she inquired. “I mean old Oliver.”
“No.”
“Have you seen anything of him this morning?”
“No. What’s the matter, Serepty?”
“Well, he didn’t sleep here last night, and there ain’t a sign of him around the place. I—I guess maybe you’d better come up, Joe.”
Old Oliver was gone.
“Off his base,” groaned Mr. Sikes, fifteen minutes after Serepta’s agitated call. He and Silas Link had hurried up to the Baxter home, where they found Mrs. Grimes waiting for them on the front porch. “I knew it would come. Off his base completely.”
“Wandered off somewheres,” groaned Mr. Link, very pale and shaky. “Maybe down into the swamp. My God!”