take chances on this job--it's too important--and I've got to report
something pretty soon. That damn veil! She always has it on."

"Yep, she had it when she come down here, too, and when she tuk the
house. All right, see her if ye can! Ye're the jedge. She's coming
around the bend of the road now." The constable was peering out from
his hiding place among the bushes.

"Is the priest with her?" asked the agent.

"He's gone back to the village. She didn't go that far--she seldom
does. But he goes to see her; and she goes to his church on Sundays."

"I wonder if he knows anything?"

"Trust that gent to know most everything, I guess." The constable was
very positive. "Father Murray's nobody's fool," he added, "and she
won't talk to nobody else. I'll bet a yearlin' heifer he's on; but
nobody could drag nothing out of him."

"I know that," said the agent. "I've been up there a dozen times, and
I've talked with him by the hour--but always about books; I couldn't
get him to talk about anything else. Here she is! Go on back."

The constable disappeared behind the bushes, and his companion stood
out in the little clearing to wait.

The woman saw him; Mark, watching from the long grass, thought she
hesitated. Then she dropped her veil and came on. The agent stepped
forward, and the woman seemed distressed. What the agent intended to