"I have passed it several times."

"Did you by chance notice," Father Murray went on, "whether this
detective looked like a Slav?"

"On the contrary, he is--" Mark half paused, then hurried on--"an
American." It was not necessary that he mention Saunders' name--not now,
at least.

Father Murray seemed puzzled. "There are two or three educated men in
that camp," he said, "who have been hanging around Killimaga a great deal
of late; and they have been worrying an old parishioner of mine--a
retired farmer who finds plenty of time to worry about everybody else,
since he has no worries of his own. He thinks that these well-dressed
'bosses' are strange residents for a railroad construction camp. He
tells me that he has often been in such camps, but that he had never seen
what he calls 'gintlemen' living in them before."

Mark laughed. "Your old parishioner is a discerning man."

"Uncle Mac," replied Father Murray, "is the kind of man who believes that
virtue stands in the middle. When I first came here he called to see me
to ask about my politics. Uncle Mac is a lifelong Democrat, and when I
told him that I usually voted the Republican ticket he became suspicious.
Just before the election I preached on 'Citizenship'--careful always to
avoid any reference to partisanship. Uncle Mac came in after Mass and
said: 'I think ye were preachin' Republican sintiments this morning
Father.' I said, 'Not at all, Uncle Mac. I made no reference to either
party.' 'No,' said he, 'but yer sintiments were awful highfalutin'.'"