“He’ll have to walk back,” said Jimmy, “and if so be the prisoner wasn’t willing to come with him it might be a long time before he got him along the road, for he wouldn’t like to be beating him. He has a kind heart, the sergeant; it’s hardly ever you’d see him as much as laying a stick across a child.”
Miss Blow seemed more or less satisfied. The idea of Mr. Red driven by threats of violent batoning along a dusty road comforted her. Jimmy O’Loughlin made his escape from the barrack.
He found Mr. Goddard scribbling a fresh telegram in the post-office.
“Look at that,” he said, handing a form to Jimmy.
“From Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Why have you not reported recovery of Members of Parliament?”
“That’s not what I’d call a civil message,” said Jimmy. “What did you say to him?”
“Susy Lizzie,” said Mr. Goddard, “give your uncle the answer I sent to the last telegram but two.”
Susy Lizzie fumbled among a pile of papers and finally handed one over to Jimmy.
“To Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Impossible to report recovery of Members of Parliament with any truth because still at large. Goddard, District Inspector.”
“Be damn,” said Jimmy, “but you had him there, as neat as ever I seen.”