that the Archbishop would willingly listen to Madam San Croix's
statement if she would come to him on Friday morning at eleven.

"You see," said Walcott, desperately, "there is no possible way
out. I know the woman--when she decides to do a thing that is the
end of it. She has decided to do this."

Mason turned around from the table, stretched out his long legs,
and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. Walcott sat with his
head down, watching Mason hopelessly, almost indifferently, his
face blank and sunken. The ticking of the bronze clock on the
mantel shelf was loud, painfully loud. Suddenly Mason drew his
knees in and bent over, put both his bony hands on the table, and
looked at Walcott.

"Sir," he said, "this matter is in such shape that there is only
one thing to do. This growth must be cut out at the roots, and cut
out quickly. This is the first fact to be determined, and a fool
would know it. The second fact is that you must do it yourself.
Hired killers are like the grave and the daughters of the horse
leech,--they cry always, 'Give, Give.' They are only palliatives,
not cures. By using them you swap perils. You simply take a stay
of execution at best. The common criminal would know this. These
are the facts of your problem. The master plotters of crime would
see here but two difficulties to meet:

"A practical method for accomplishing the body of the crime.

"A cover for the criminal agent.