Mark laughed his appreciation. "Wasn't that rather a compliment to the
Republicans?" he asked.

"I took it so," said Father Murray. "But Uncle Mac does not like the
'highfalutin'.' One day he said to me, when he saw all my books, 'The
man who was here before you, Father, wasn't smart enough; but you're too
dom smart. Now, I don't like a priest who isn't smart enough, but I'm
afeerd of one who's too dom smart. If you'd only half as many books, I'd
feel betther about ye.'"

The Padre paused a moment; then the anxious look returned and he spoke
slowly as if he were trying to solve the puzzle even while he spoke.

"Uncle Mac told me yesterday that there was a very 'highfalutin'
gintleman' in the camp the night before last. He came there in a long,
rakish automobile. Uncle Mac said that 'he parted his whiskers in the
middle, so he did,' and that 'he looked like a governor or somethin' of
the sort.' I was just wondering if that detective of yours has anything
to do with that camp, and if these strange visitors are not in some way
connected with his interest in Miss Atheson. But perhaps that's making
too much of a mystery of it."

"As to that," said Mark, "of course I cannot say. I merely wanted you to
know, Father Murray, just what was going on; to tell you that while you
don't know me, nevertheless I hope you will permit me to be of assistance
if these people are annoying Miss Atheson. If you wish to know more
about me, I shall be glad to bring you the papers I left in the vault
this morning."

"I do not need to see your papers, Mr. Griffin," Father Murray answered.