"Give him a leg up, Jim," Soden said to his barman.
Old Patsy, with the help of the barman, managed to clamber into the saddle, where he sat for a few minutes swaying unsteadily before he started to ride off through the town.
"Where's he from?" Dudgeon asked, looking after him.
"Oh, that's Mrs. Burke's Irish body-guard," Soden said. "Says he should never have left Ireland, and I agree with him. There'll be trouble out at the Downs some of these days, if she doesn't clear him out or he gives over drinking. Don't you serve him any more, do you hear, Jim? Hand him over to Brennan if he comes in again," he added to his barman.
"Well, what's the news?" Dudgeon exclaimed as he got out of his buggy and limped over to Soden.
"The leg's not all right yet, I see?" Soden said.
"Oh, that's getting on. Anything fresh about the bank?"
"Why, haven't you heard?" Soden cried. "They've found Eustace, found him with a bullet through him, lying in the water at the ford in the range. He's over there now," he added, jerking his head towards the police-station.
"What's that you say?" Dudgeon exclaimed, open-eyed and open-mouthed.
"They found him only yesterday—the sub-inspector and the constable. And last night, what do you think? His mate, the man with the beard who stuck your place up, galloped through the town here, and afterwards, when we were all out chasing him, doubled back on us and stole everything he could lay his hands on."