As the demand for tracing-paper in Martindale Center was small, the stationer upon being called on, had no difficulty in recalling that Elder Dennett had been in that afternoon and made such a purchase.
“Then he must have discovered something after I left him,” said Kent to Sedgwick, “for he never could have kept his secret if he’d had it then.”
“But what motive could he have?” cried the artist.
“Just mischief, probably. That’s enough motive for his sort.” Turning to the store-keeper Kent asked: “Do you happen to know how Mr. Dennett spent the early part of this afternoon?”
“I surely do. He was up to Dimmock’s rummage auction, an’ he got something there that tickled him like a feather. But he wouldn’t let on what it was.”
“The original!” said Sedgwick.
“What does Dimmock deal in?”
“All kinds of odds and ends. He scrapes the country for bankrupt sales, an’ has a big auction once a year. Everybody goes. You can find anything from a plough-handle to a second-hand marriage certificate at his place.”
“We now call on Elder Dennett,” said Kent.
That worthy was about closing up shop when they entered.