The population waited in abated breath. In the order in which he had reported, or as had been reported by the papers, the detective set a day upon which he would point, with the forefinger of his right hand, straight to the murderer.
The day would never come, everybody seemed to feel. All the anxiety attendant during the trial, before as well as after, for it must be understood that the Jew had not been seen to kill the girl, was lived over again during this spell. But at last the mighty day came. It was a dark, drizzly, gloomy, forlorn day. Just the kind for what was now the order in Attalia. On this day, the people now felt, the real murderer would be placed in the lime light. The detective had declared, a few days after he had been retained and put on the case, that the Jew was innocent. Moreover, he declared that the prosecution, abetted by public sentiment, had been affected in its decision, by the worst of all that is inherent in our advanced society, race prejudice. He lied here—and knew it. There is no prejudice in Attalia against any race but one, of which we will pass. In addition, he flaunted in the face of the people, the idea of perversion on the part of the Jew, of which the latter had been accused. This accusation had been advanced as the only excuse for the murder, of which he stood accused. But the real murderer was that day announced as per reports.
"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.