Charred Wood

Saunders, having selected the most comfortable chair in the hotel lobby, was dozing placidly when Mark rushed in, and shook the detective vigorously.

"Wake up," he called. "Will you come with me to Washington? When is there a train connecting with the Congressional Limited? Father Murray wants to catch that."

Saunders was alert in an instant.

"Sure, I'll go. Train leaves in fifty minutes; you get the Limited at the Junction--have to wait nearly an hour for the connection, though. What's up?"

"Hurry! I'll tell you later. Pack only what you need. Here, you pay the bills." Mark shoved his purse into Saunders' hands. "Keep the rooms; we'll need them when we return. I'm off. Oh, yes! I forgot." Mark stopped on his way to the stairs. "Telephone the Padre about the train."

In good time, Father Murray, Mark and Saunders stood at the end of the station platform, grips in hand.

"Now, open up," said Saunders. "What's wrong?"

Mark looked inquiringly at the priest. Father Murray briefly gave the detective a resume of what had occurred, including the information which had so stunned Mark Griffin, and now had an even more stunning effect on Saunders, the information regarding the priest's relationship to Ruth Atheson.

"But, Father, this looks like the impossible. It's unbelievable that these people could be mistaken about someone they had trailed from Europe. They were so sure about it that they killed that officer."

"Ruth Atheson is my sister's daughter, Mr. Saunders," was the only answer vouchsafed by the priest. He boarded the train, followed by his companions.

Saunders sat in puzzled silence till the junction point was reached. Then the three alighted, and Father Murray turned to the detective.

"Mr. Saunders, I am going to ask a favor of you. I do not know how long I may be away, and my parish is unattended. The Bishop is here to-day on his Confirmation tour, and I am going to take Mr. Griffin with me and call on him. Will you remain here in charge of our effects?"

"Sure, Father. Go on." He glanced toward the bulletin board. "The Limited is late, and you have more than an hour yet. I'll telegraph for sleeper reservations."

Father Murray and Mark started out for the rectory. Very little was said on the way. The priest was sad and downcast, Mark scarcely less so.

"I almost fear to meet the Bishop, Mark," Father Murray remarked, as they approached the rectory, "after that shock the other day; but I suppose it has to be done."

The Bishop was alone in his room and sent for them to come up. There was a trace of deep sorrow in his attitude toward the priest, joined to surprise at the visit. To Mark he was most cordial.