Burton's car drew up before the doorway of the Prim home in Oakdale. The great detective alighted and handed down the missing Abigail. Then be directed that the other prisoners be taken to the county jail.

Jonas Prim and his wife awaited Abigail's return in the spacious living room at the left of the reception hall. The banker was nervous. He paced to and fro the length of the room. Mrs. Prim fanned herself vigorously although the heat was far from excessive. They heard the motor draw up in front of the house; but they did not venture into the reception hall or out upon the porch, though for different reasons. Mrs. Prim because it would not have been PROPER; Jonas because he could not trust himself to meet his daughter, whom he had thought lost, in the presence of a possible crowd which might have accompanied her home.

They heard the closing of an automobile door and the sound of foot steps coming up the concrete walk. The Prim butler was already waiting at the doorway with the doors swung wide to receive the prodigal daughter of the house of Prim. A slender figure with bowed head ascended the steps, guided and assisted by the detective. She did not look up at the expectant butler waiting for the greeting he was sure Abigail would have for him; but passed on into the reception hall.

"Your father and Mrs. Prim are in the living room," announced the butler, stepping forward to draw aside the heavy hangings.

The girl, followed by Burton, entered the brightly lighted room.

"I am very glad, Mr. Prim," said the latter, "to be able to return Miss Prim to you so quickly and unharmed."

The girl looked up into the face of Jonas Prim. The man voiced an exclamation of surprise and annoyance. Mrs. Prim gasped and sank upon a sofa. The girl stood motionless, her eyes once again bent upon the floor.

"What's the matter?" asked Burton. "What's wrong?"

"Everything is wrong, Mr. Burton," Jonas Prim's voice was crisp and cold. "This is not my daughter."

Burton looked his surprise and discomfiture. He turned upon the girl.

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"What do you mean--" he started; but she interrupted him.

"You are going to ask what I mean by posing as Miss Prim," she said. "I have never said that I was Miss Prim. You took the word of an ignorant little farmer's boy and I did not deny it when I found that you intended bringing me to Mr. Prim, for I wanted to see him. I wanted to ask him to help me. I have never met him, or his daughter either; but my father and Mr. Prim have been friends for many years.