“He wasn’t within when I went for him.”
The explanation was perfectly simple and natural; but Jimmy O’Loughlin, noting the manner in which it was given, realized there was something behind it.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Patsy Devlin winked again. Jimmy, vaguely anxious, but not knowing what to fear, handed his visitor a third pint of porter.
“I’m thinking,” said Patsy, “that it’s about time for us to be making a move in the matter of collecting funds for the horse races and athletic sports. The season’s going on and if we don’t have them before the end of the month the days will be getting short on us. I suppose now I may put you down for a pound the same as last year?”
“You may,” said Jimmy. “But what was it you were after telling me about Dr. O’Grady?”
“Does he owe you any money?”
“He does, a power.”
“Then you’ll not see it. Devil the penny of it ever you’ll handle, no matter how you try.”