my employers suspect that Horace Endicott has been hiding for years
under the character of Arthur Dillon."

Monsignor looked amazed for a moment and then laughed.

"Interesting for Mr. Dillon and his friends, particularly if this
Endicott is wanted for any crime...."

"Oh, no, no," cried the detective. "It is his wife who is seeking him, a
perfectly respectable man, you know ... it's a long story. We have
chased many a man supposed to be Endicott, and Mr. Dillon is the latest.
I don't accept the theory myself. I know Dillon is Dillon, but a
detective must sift the theories of his employers. In fact my work up to
this moment proves very clearly that of all our wrong chases this is the
worst."

"It looks absurd at first sight. I remember the time poor Mrs. Dillon
sent out her photographs, scattered a few hundred of them among the
police and the miners of California, in the hope of finding her lost
son. That was done with my advice. She had her first response, a letter
from her son, about the very time that I met young Endicott. For the
life of me I cannot understand why anyone should suppose Arthur
Dillon...."

He picked up the photograph of Endicott again.

"The two men look as much alike as I look like you. I'm glad you
mentioned the connection which Dillon has with the matter. You will
kindly leave me out of it until you have made inquiries of Mr. Dillon
himself. It would not do, you understand, for a priest in my position to
give out any details in a matter which may yet give trouble. I fear that
in telling you of my meeting with Endicott I have already overstepped
the limits of prudence. However, that was my fault, as you warned me.
Thanks for the photograph, a very nice souvenir of a tragedy. Poor young
fellow! Better had he perished in the smash-up than to go out of life in
so dreary a way."

"If I might venture another----"

"Pardon, not another word. In any official and public way I am always
ready to tell what the law requires, or charity demands."

"You would be willing then to declare that Arthur Dillon----"

"Is Mrs. Dillon's son? Certainly ... at any time, under proper
conditions. Good morning. Don't mention it," and Curran was outside the
door before his thoughts took good shape; so lost in wonder over the
discovery of Monsignor's acquaintance with Endicott, that he forgot to
visit Anne Dillon. Instead he hurried home with the news to Edith, and
blushed with shame when she asked if he had called