Neither he nor his public-house could be held in any way responsible for the disappearance of Patsy Devlin. He felt free to discuss the event in a friendly way with the police and to give them any information he could so long as he said nothing likely to lead to the capture of Patsy.
“I’m told,” said the sergeant, “that the last night he was in Clonmore he spent the most of it along with yourself.”
“He might,” said Jimmy.
He did not quite see the point of the sergeant’s remark, and felt that he must be cautious.
“Could you give me any information about what he intended doing with himself the next day?”
“He told me,” said Jimmy, after thinking the matter over, “and it could be that he was telling me the truth—he told me he was going up to the Castle to try if he could get a pound, or maybe two pounds, out of Lord Manton for the sports. He was collecting the town and the district; and he said to me himself that he’d done well. The money was coming in better than ever it did.”
“Ah!” said the sergeant with deep meaning.
“Just so,” said Jimmy.
“And was that what you meant this minute when you said that you wouldn’t wonder if there might be some truth in what they’re saying about him being gone?”
“He’s not the first,” said Jimmy, “nor he won’t be the last. There was Cooney that was treasurer of the League, and nobody ever heard of him after. It was upwards of twenty pounds he had. There was——”