“Go on!” I said.
“I couldn’t go after him, for I had to watch Moynahan, whom I followed close, and I caught hold of as soon as I thought Murdock was too far to see me. I was only just in time, for as I touched him he staggered, lurched forward, and was actually beginning to sink in the bog. It was at one of those spots where the rock runs sheer down into the morass. It took all my strength to pull him out, and when I did get him on the rock he sank down again into his drunken sleep. I thought the wisest thing I could do was to go to Joyce’s for help; and as, thanks to my experiments with the magnets all those weeks, I knew the ground fairly well, I was able to find my way—although the task was a slow and difficult one.
When I got near I saw a light at the window. My rubber boots, I suppose, and the plash of the falling rain dulled my footsteps, for as I drew near I could see that a man was looking in at the window, but he did not hear me. I crept up behind the hedge and watched him. He went to the door and knocked—evidently not for the first time; then the door was opened, and I could see Joyce’s figure against the light that came from the kitchen.
“‘Who’s there? What is it?’ he asked. Then I heard Murdock’s voice:—
“‘I’m lookin’ for poor ould Moynahan. He was out on the hill in the evenin’, but he hasn’t kem home, an’ I’m anxious about him, for he had a sup in him, an’ I fear he may have fallen into the bog. I’ve been out lukin’ for him, but I can’t find him. I thought he might have kem in here.’
“‘No, he has not been here. Are you sure he was on the hill?’
“‘Well, I thought so—but what ought I to do? I’d be thankful if ye’d advise me. Be the way, what o’clock might it be now?’
“Norah, who had joined her father, ran in and looked at the clock.
“‘It is just ten minutes past twelve,’ she said.
“‘I don’t know what’s to be done,’ said Joyce. ‘Could he have got to the shebeen?’