“And you were in the Phoenix Park on the evening of the murders?” said the Chief of the Department.
“I must have been there within half-an-hour of the time they were committed,” replied the man. “But I know nothing of them.”
“I’m convinced of it,” said the officer. “But I should like to hear if you met any one you knew in the Park as you were coming away.”
“I only met one man whose name I knew,” said the other, “and that was a builder that I have done some jobs for: James Carey is his name.”
This was precisely the one bit of evidence that was required for the committal of Carey.
An hour afterwards he offered to turn Queen’s Evidence.
CHAPTER XIV.—IRELAND AS A FIELD FOR REPORTERS.
The humour of the Irish Bench—A circus at Bombay—Mr. Justice Lawson—The theft of a pig—“Reasonably suspected”—A prima facie case for the prosecution—The defence—The judge’s charge—The scope of a judge’s duties in Ireland—Collaring a prisoner—A gross contempt of court—How the contempt was purged—The riotous city—The reporter as a war correspondent—“Good mixed shooting”—The tram-car driver cautioned—The “loot” mistaken for a violin—The arrest in the cemetery—Pommelling a policeman—A treat not to be shared—A case of discipline—The German infantry—A real grievance—“Palmam qui meruit ferat.”