CHAPTER FOURTEENOmega
At eight o’clock on the following morning—Friday, November 28th—Gamadge found the city of Utica bathed in sunshine. He found a restaurant, had a comfortable breakfast, and then went to a garage and hired a car. He reached the uninteresting little town of Omega at half-past nine.
He inquired his way to a brick-faced building on Main Street, and climbed a flight of uncarpeted stairs to the second, and top, floor; there was a sign directing him to the office of the Omega Times. He found the editor and proprietor, a sweater over his shirt sleeves, reading a copy of his own newspaper at a desk in front of the window. A stove burned redly in one corner.
“Good morning,” said Gamadge. “My name’s Henry Gamadge; I came up from New York last night to call on you, if you’re th
