〃Ah！〃　said　Mr　Usher　dryly；　and　handing　across　another　scrap　of　newspaper。　　〃Well；　does　that　interest　you？〃
  The　paragraph　was　headed　〃Savage　Murder　of　a　Warder。　　Convict　Escapes；〃　and　ran：　　〃Just　before　dawn　this　morning　a　shout　for　help　was　heard　in　the　Convict　Settlement　at　Sequah　in　this　State。　　The　authorities；　hurrying　in　the　direction　of　the　cry；　found　the　corpse　of　the　warder　who　patrols　the　top　of　the　north　wall　of　the　prison；　the　steepest　and　most　difficult　exit；　for　which　one　man　has　always　been　found　sufficient。　　The　unfortunate　officer　had；　however；　been　hurled　from　the　high　wall；　his　brains　beaten　out　as　with　a　club；　and　his　gun　was　missing。　　Further　inquiries　showed　that　one　of　the　cells　was　empty；　it　had　been　occupied　by　a　rather　sullen　ruffian　giving　his　name　as　Oscar　Rian。　　He　was　only　temporarily　detained　for　some　comparatively　trivial　assault；　but　he　gave　everyone　the　impression　of　a　man　with　a　black　past　and　a　dangerous　future。　　Finally；　when　daylight　bad　fully　revealed　the　scene　of　murder；　it　was　found　that　he　had　written　on　the　wall　above　the　body　a　fragmentary　sentence；　apparently　with　a　finger　dipped　in　blood：　　‘This　was　self…defence　and　he　had　the　gun。　　I　meant　no　harm　to　him　or　any　man　but　one。　　I　am　keeping　the　bullet　for　Pilgrim's　PondO。R。'　　A　man　must　have　used　most　fiendish　treachery　or　most　savage　and　amazing　bodily　daring　to　have　stormed　such　a　wall　in　spite　of　an　armed　man。〃
  〃Well；　the　literary　style　is　somewhat　improved；〃　admitted　the　priest　cheerfully；　〃but　still　I　don't　see　what　I　can　do　for　you。　　I　should　cut　a　poor　figure；　with　my　short　legs；　running　about　this　State　after　an　athletic　assassin　of　that　sort。　　I　doubt　whether　anybody　could　find　him。　　The　convict　settlement　at　Sequah　is　thirty　miles　from　here；　the　country　between　is　wild　and　tangled　enough；　and　the　country　beyond；　where　he　will　surely　have　the　sense　to　go；　is　a　perfect　no…man's　land　tumbling　away　to　the　prairies。　　He　may　be　in　any　hole　or　up　any　tree。〃
  〃He　isn't　in　any　hold；〃　said　the　governor；　〃he　isn't　up　any　tree。〃
  〃Why；　how　do　you　know？〃　asked　Father　Brown；　blinking。
  〃Would　you　like　to　speak　to　him？〃　inquired　Usher。
  Father　Brown　opened　his　innocent　eyes　wide。　　〃He　is　here？〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃Why；　how　did　your　men　get　hold　of　him？〃
  〃I　got　hold　of　him　myself；〃　drawled　the　American；　rising　and　lazily　stretching　his　lanky　legs　before　the　fire。　　〃I　got　hold　of　him　with　the　crooked　end　of　a　walking…stick。　　Don't　look　so　surprised。　　I　really　did。　　You　know　I　sometimes　take　a　turn　in　the　country　lanes　outside　this　dismal　place；　well；　I　was　walking　early　this　evening　up　a　steep　lane　with　dark　hedges　and　grey…looking　ploughed　fields　on　both　sides；　and　a　young　moon　was　up　and　silvering　the　road。　　By　the　light　of　it　I　saw　a　man　running　across　the　field　towards　the　road；　running　with　his　body　bent　and　at　a　good　mile…race　trot。　　He　appeared　to　be　much　exhausted；　but　when　he　came　to　the　thick　black　hedge　he　went　through　it　as　if　it　were　made　of　spiders'　webs；　or　rather　（for　I　heard　the　strong　branches　breaking　and　snapping　like　bayonets）　as　if　he　himself　were　made　of　stone。　　In　the　instant　in　which　he　appeared　up　against　the　moon；　crossing　the　road；　I　slung　my　hooked　cane　at　his　legs；　tripping　him　and　bringing　him　down。　　Then　I　blew　my　whistle　long　and　loud；　and　our　fellows　came　running　up　to　secure　him。〃
  〃It　would　have　been　rather　awkward；〃　remarked　Brown；　〃if　you　had　found　he　was　a　popular　athlete　practising　a　mile　race。〃
  〃He　was　not；〃　said　Usher　grimly。　　〃We　soon　found　out　who　he　was；　but　I　had　guessed　it　with　the　first　glint　of　the　moon　on　him。〃
  〃You　thought　it　was　the　runaway　convict；〃　observed　the　priest　simply；　〃because　you　had　read　in　the　newspaper　cutting　that　morning　that　a　convict　had　run　away。〃
  〃I　had　somewhat　better　grounds；〃　replied　the　governor　coolly。　　〃I　pass　over　the　first　as　too　simple　to　be　emphasized　I　mean　that　fashionable　athletes　do　not　run　across　ploughed　fields　or　scratch　their　eyes　out　in　bramble　hedges。　　Nor　do　they　run　all　doubled　up　like　a　crouching　dog。　　There　were　more　decisive　details　to　a　fairly　well…trained　eye。　　The　man　was　clad　in　coarse　and　ragged　clothes；　but　they　were　something　more　than　merely　coarse　and　ragged。　　They　were　so　ill…fitting　as　to　be　quite　grotesque；　even　as　he　appeared　in　black　outline　against　the　moonrise；　the　coat…collar　in　which　his　head　was　buried　made　him　look　like　a　hunchback；　and　the　long　loose　sleeves　looked　as　if　he　had　no　hands。　　It　at　once　occurred　to　me　that　he　had　somehow　managed　to　change　his　convict　clothes　for　some　confederate's　clothes　which　did　not　fit　him。　　Second；　there　was　a　pretty　stiff　wind　against　which　he　was　running；　so　that　I　must　have　seen　the　streaky　look　of　blowing　hair；　if　the　hair　had　not　been　very　short。　　Then　I　remembered　that　beyond　these　ploughed　fields　he　was　crossing　lay　Pilgrim's　Pond；　for　which　（you　will　remember）　the　convict　was　keeping　his　bullet；　and　I　sent　my　walking…stick　flying。〃
  〃A　brilliant　piece　of　rapid　deduction；〃　said　Father　Brown；　〃but　had　he　got　a　gun？〃
  As　Usher　stopped　abruptly　in　his　walk　the　priest　added　apologetically：　　〃I've　been　told　a　bullet　is　not　half　so　useful　without　it。〃
  〃He　had　no　gun；〃　said　the　other　gravely；　〃but　that　was　doubtless　due　to　some　very　natural　mischance　or　change　of　plans。　　Probably　the　same　policy　that　made　him　change　the　clothes　made　him　drop　the　gun；　he　began　to　repent　the　coat　he　had　left　behind　him　in　the　blood　of　his　victim。〃
  〃Well；　that　is　possible　enough；〃　answered　the　priest。
  〃And　it's　hardly　worth　speculating　on；〃　said　Usher；　turning　to　some　other　papers；　〃for　we　know　it's　the　man　by　this　time。〃
  His　clerical　friend　asked　faintly：　　〃But　how？〃　　And　Greywood　Usher　threw　down　the　newspapers　and　took　up　the　two　press…cuttings　again。
  〃Well；　since　you　are　so　obstinate；〃　he　said；　〃let's　begin　at　the　beginning。　　You　will　notice　that　these　two　cuttings　have　only　one　thing　in　common；　which　is　the　mention　of　Pilgrim's　Pond；　the　estate；　as　you　know；　of　the　millionaire　Ireton　Todd。　　You　also　know　that　he　is　a　remarkable　character；　one　of　those　that　rose　on　stepping…stones〃
  〃Of　our　dead　selves　to　higher　things；〃　assented　his　companion。　　〃Yes；　I　know　that。　　Petroleum；　I　think。〃
  〃Anyhow；〃　said　Usher；　〃Last…Trick　Todd　counts　for　a　great　deal　in　this　rum　affair。〃
  He　stretched　himself　once　more　before　the　fire　and　continued　talking　in　his　expansive；　radiantly　explanatory　style。
  〃To　begin　with；　on　the　face　of　it；　there　is　no　mystery　here　at　all。　　It　is　not　mysterious；　it　is　not　even　odd；　that　a　jailbird　should　take　his　gun　to　Pilgrim's　Pond。　　Our　people　aren't　like　the　English；　who　will　forgive　a　man　for　being　rich　if　he　throws　away　money　on　hospitals　or　horses。　　Last…Trick　Todd　has　made　himself　big　by　his　own　considerable　abilities；　and　there's　no　doubt　that　many　of　those　on　whom　he　has　shown　his　abilities　would　like　to　show　theirs　on　him　with　a　shot…gun。　　Todd　might　easily　get　dropped　by　some　man　he'd　never　even　heard　of；　some　labourer　he'd　locked　out；　or　some　clerk　in　a　business　he'd　busted。　　Last…Trick　is　a　man　of　mental　endowments　and　a　high　public　character；　but　in　this　country　the　relations　of　employers　and　employed　are　considerably　strained。
  〃That's　how　the　whole　thing　looks　supposing　this　Rian　made　for　Pilgrim's　Pond　to　kill　Todd。　　So　it　looked　to　me；　till　another　little　discovery　woke　up　what　I　have　of　the　detective　in　me。　　When　I　had　my　prisoner　safe；　I　picked　up　my　cane　again　and　strolled　down　the　two　or　three　turns　of　country　road　that　brought　me　to　one　of　the　side　entrances　of　Todd's　grounds；　the　one　nearest　to　the　pool　or　lake　after　which　the　place　is　named。　　It　was　some　two　hours　ago；　about　seven　by　this　time；　the　moonlight　was　more　luminous；　and　I　could　see　the　long　white　streaks　of　it　lying　on　the　mysterious　mere　with　its　grey；　greasy；　half…liquid　shores　in　which　they　say　our　fathers　used　to　make　witches　walk　until　they　sank。　　I'd　forgotten　the　exact　tale；　but　you　know　the　place　I　mean；　it　lies　north　of　Todd's　house　towards　the　wilderness；　and　has　two　queer　wrinkled　trees；　so　dismal　that　they　look　more　like　huge　fungoids　than　decent　foliage。　　As　I　stood　peering　at　this　misty　pool；　I　fancied　I　saw　the　faint　figure　of　a　man　moving　from　the　house　towards　it；　but　it　was　all　too　dim　and　distant　for　one　to　be　certain　of　the　fact；　and　still　less　of　the　details。　　Besides；　my　attention　was　very　sharply　arrested　by　something　much　closer。　　I　crouched　behind　the　fence　which　ran　not　more　than　two　hundred　yards　from　one　wing　of　the　great　mansion；　and　which　was　fortunately　split　in　places；　as　if　specially　for　the　application　of　a　cautious　eye。　　A　door　had　opened　in　the　dark　bulk　of　the　left　wing；　and　a　figure　appeared　black　against　the　illuminated　interiora　muffled　figure　bending　forward；　evidently　peering　out　into　the　night。　　It　closed　the　door　behind　it；　and　I　saw　it　was　carrying　a　lantern；　which　threw　a　patch　of　imperfect　light　on　the　dress　and　figure　of　the　wearer。　　It　seemed　to　be　the　figure　of　a　woman；　wrapped　up　in　a　ragged　cloak　and　evidently　disguised　to　avoid　notice；　there　was　something　very　strange　both　about　the　rags　and　the