is frightened when he thinks about it; but we keep his
thoughts away as much as possible. It is bad for him to fear. For
the love of Heaven, good signor, get to the bottom of it if you can.
My idea is to set a trap for this red man and catch him, like a fox
or other wild creature."

"A very cute notion," declared Peter. "We'll rope you in, Giuseppe.
Between you and me and the post, our friend Brendon has been barking
up the wrong tree, you know. But if you and I and he, together,
can't clean this up, then we're not the men I take us for."

Doria laughed.

"'Deeds are men; words are women,'" he said. "There has been too
much chatter about this; but now you are come; we shall see things
accomplished."

It was not until after the midday meal that Ganns and Mark were able
to get speech together. Then, promising to return in time to meet
Virgilio Poggi, who would cross the lake for tea, the two men
sauntered beside Como and exchanged experiences. The interview
proved painful to the younger, for he found that Peter's doubts were
cleared in certain directions. Brendon, indeed, led up to his own
chastening very directly.

"It makes me mad," he said, "to see the way that beggar treats his
wife--Doria I mean. Pearls before swine. I never hoped much from it;
but to think they have only been married three months!''

"How does he treat her?"

"Well, one isn't blind to her appearance. The cause is, of course,
concealed; the effect, very visible to my eyes. She's far too plucky
to whisper her troubles; but she can't hide her face, where they may
be read."

Mr. Ganns said nothing and Mark spoke again.

"Do you begin to see any light?"

"Not much upon the main problem. A minor feature has cleared,
however. I know the rock you split upon, my son. You were in love
with Jenny Pendean from the moment you knew that she was a widow.
And you're in love with Jenny Doria now. And to be in love with one
of the principals in a case, is to handicap yourself out of the
hunt, as far as that case is concerned."

Brendon stared but made no answer.

"Human nature has its limits, Mark, and love's a pretty radical
passion. No man ever did, or could, do himself justice in any task
whatever--not while he was blinded with love of a woman. Love's a
jealous party and won't stand competitors. So it follows that if you
were in love anyway you wouldn't be at your best; and how much more
so when the lady in your case was the lady in _the_ case?"