de-and-seek on me; I
don't get fooled any. Leave go of my guests, and I'll let up on the
fancy clockwork. Keep him here for a split instant and you'll feel
pretty mean. I reckon I'm not a man with no pull."

The eminent Usher was regarding the bellowing monster with an amazement
which had dried up all other sentiments. The mere shock to his eyes had
rendered his ears, almost useless. At last he rang a bell with a hand
of violence. While the bell was still strong and pealing, the voice of
Father Brown fell soft but distinct.

"I have a suggestion to make," he said, "but it seems a little
confusing. I don't know this gentleman--but--but I think I know
him. Now, you know him--you know him quite well--but you don't know
him--naturally. Sounds paradoxical, I know."

"I reckon the Cosmos is cracked," said Usher, and fell asprawl in his
round office chair.

"Now, see here," vociferated the stranger, striking the table, but
speaking in a voice that was all the more mysterious because it was
comparatively mild and rational though still resounding. "I won't let
you in. I want--"

"Who in hell are you?" yelled Usher, suddenly sitting up straight.

"I think the gentleman's name is Todd," said the priest.

Then he picked up the pink slip of newspaper.

"I fear you don't read the Society papers properly," he said, and began
to read out in a monotonous voice, "'Or locked in the jewelled bosoms of
our city's gayest leaders; but there is talk of a pretty parody of the
manners and customs of the other end of Society's scale.' There's been
a big Slum Dinner up at Pilgrim's Pond tonight; and a man, one of the
guests, disappeared. Mr Ireton Todd is a good host, and has tracked him
here, without even waiting to take off his fancy-dress."

"What man do you mean?"

"I mean the man with comically ill-fitting clothes you saw running
across the ploughed field. Hadn't you better go and investigate him? He
will be rather impatient to get back to his champagne, from which he ran
away in such a hurry, when the convict with the gun hove in sight."

"Do you seriously mean--" began the official.

"Why, look here, Mr Usher," said Father Brown quietly, "you said the
machine couldn't make a mistake; and in one sense it didn't. But the
other machine did; the machine that worked it. You assumed that the
man in rags jumped at the name of Lord Falconroy, because he was Lord
Falconroy's murderer. He jumped at the name of Lord Falconroy because he