The latter, properly cleared,
sailed next morning. And next morning the newsboys in every city and
town were crying "Extra."
In the slang of the day, Goliah had delivered the goods. The nine
captains of industry who had failed to accept his invitation were
dead. A sort of violent disintegration of the tissues was the report
of the various autopsies held on the bodies of the slain
millionaires; yet the surgeons and physicians (the most highly
skilled in the land had participated) would not venture the opinion
that the men had been slain. Much less would they venture the
conclusion, "at the hands of parties unknown." It was all too
mysterious. They were stunned. Their scientific credulity broke
down. They had no warrant in the whole domain of science for
believing that an anonymous person on Palgrave Island had murdered
the poor gentlemen.
One thing was quickly learned, however; namely, that Palgrave Island
was no myth. It was charted and well known to all navigators, lying
on the line of 160 west longitude, right at its intersection by the
tenth parallel north latitude, and only a few miles away from Diana
Shoal.
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