on Anne. She forgave
his stupidity in her delight, and put him through his catechism on all
that had been said and seen in the interview with Monsignor.

"You are a poor stick," was her comment, and for the first time in years
he approved of her opinion. "The priest steered you about and out with
his little finger, and the corner of his eye. He did not give you a
chance to ask if he had ever seen Horace Endicott since. Monsignor will
not lie for any man. He simply refuses to answer on the ground that his
position will not permit it. You will never see the priest again on this
matter. Arthur Dillon will bid you stand off. Well, you see what my
instinct is now! Are you more willing to believe in it when it says:
Arthur Dillon is Horace Endicott?"

"Not a bit, sweetheart."

"I won't fight with you, since you are doing as I order. Go to Anne
Dillon now. Mind, she's already prepared by this time for your visit.
You may run against Arthur instead of her. While you are gone I shall
write to Sonia that we have at last found a clue, and ask her to come on
at once. Dillon may not give us a week to make our escape after he
learns what we have been doing. We must be quick. Go, my dear old
stupid, and bear in mind that Anne Dillon is the cunningest cat you've
had to do with yet."

She gave an imitation of the lady that was funny to a degree, and sent
the detective off laughing, but not at all convinced that there was any
significance in his recent discovery. He felt mortified to learn again
for the hundredth time how a prejudice takes the edge off intellect.
Though certain Edith's theory was wrong, why should he act like a donkey
in disproving it? On the contrary his finest skill was required, and
methods as safe as if Dillon were sure to turn out Endicott. He
sharpened his blade for the coming duel with Anne, whom Monsignor had
warned, without doubt. However, Anne had received no warning and she met
Curran with her usual reserve. He was smoothly brutal.

"I would like to know if you are acquainted with Mr. Horace Endicott?"
said he.

Anne's face remained as blank as the wall, and her manner tranquil. She
had never heard the name before, for in the transactions between
herself and her son only the name of Arthur Dillon had been mentioned,
while of his previous life she knew not a single detail. Curran not
disappointed, hastened, after a pause, to explain his own rudeness.

"I never heard the name," said Anne coldly. "Nor do