Within a few hours Martin was crossing the Channel, and on arriving in Dublin found, on presenting a letter from Inspector Prime, that Hall, and his shadow, O'Brien, were at Naas, in Kildare, where it was understood the former was about buying considerable property, and after spending the day in Dublin, Martin proceeded to Naas.
At the "Blessert Arms," the best of the two inns in Naas, Martin found O'Brien, to whom he had a letter from Dublin.
There was nothing to report, O'Brien told him, except that Hall was well supplied with money, which he spent freely; that he had made many good friends, and was negotiating for the purchase of an estate in the vicinity.
"Does he live here?" asked Martin.
"Yes—whenever he can get away from his friends. To-day, and for the past two days, he's been off thirty mile from here shooting."
"But how the deuce can you keep track of him there?" exclaimed Martin, in angry surprise. "I understood he was never out of your sight or reach!"
"Be easy now, Mr. Martin. He's not out of either my sight or reach, for on my recommendation he engaged my partner, Jim Farrel, as his valet. Jim wired me just a hour ago that they will be back to-night."
O'Brien smiled just a little triumphantly as he finished, and then pretending not to notice Martin's confusion, continued:
"You see, Mr. Martin, I formed the acquaintance of our friend almost as soon as he arrived in Dublin, and I've cultivated that acquaintance with great success ever since. I am here by his invitation, but my pride—I am a gentleman in somewhat reduced circumstances, d'ye mind—my pride will not permit of my mingling very much in the sport which he is now enjoying, and in which he at first insisted I should join him."
The two gazed for a moment at each other as the detective finished. Then Martin extended his hand: