Some one offered the theory that, playing truant from the house
while his father was engaged in work below stairs, he had been
overwhelmed and perhaps wholly consumed by a detached fragment from
the fiery visitant. This picturesque suggestion found many
supporters until, on the afternoon of December fourteenth, a coat
and waistcoat were found on the seashore a mile north of the
village. The Reverend Mr. Prentice identified the clothes as his
son's. Searching parties covered the beach for miles, looking for
the body. Preparations were made for the funeral services, when a
new and astonishing factor was injected into the situation. An
advertisement, received by mail from New York, with stamps affixed
to the "copy" to pay for its insertion, appeared in the local paper.
"And here's the advertisement," concluded Mr. Algernon Spofford,
indicating the slip of paper which he had turned over to Average
Jones. "And if you are going up to Harwick and need help there, why
I've got time to spare."
"Thank you, Algy," replied Average Jones gravely.
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