“I’m pretty well past minding anything now,” said the Major. “There’s no example in history,” said Gallagher, “of determined devotion to a great cause equal to that of the Irish people who have been returning Members of Parliament pledged to the demand which has been made with unfaltering tongue on the floor of the House at Westminster——” “Get a telegraph form, Doyle,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and copy out that inscription while Thady is finishing his speech.” “There’s one other point that I’d like to mention,” said Doyle, “and it’s this——” “Wait a minute, Thady,” said Dr. O’Grady. “We’ll just deal with this point of Doyle’s and then you’ll be able to go on without interruption. What is it, Doyle?” “My nephew says,” said Doyle, “that he’d be glad of a cheque on account for the statue; he having been put to a good deal of out-of-pocket expense.” “Very well,” said Dr. O’Grady, “send him £25. Now go on, Thady.” “Is it me send him £25?” said Doyle doubtfully. “Of course it’s you. You’re the treasurer.” “But it’s you has Mr. Billing’s cheque,” said Doyle. “I haven’t got Mr. Billing’s cheque,” said Dr. O’Grady. “If you haven’t,” said Doyle, helplessly, “who has?” “It’s my belief,” said Gallagher, in a tone of extreme satisfaction, “that there’s no cheque in it.” “Do you mean to say, Doyle,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that you’ve been such a besotted idiot as to let that American escape out of this without paying over his subscription for the statue?” “You’ll never see him again,” said Gallagher. “He’s not the first man that skipped the country after letting everybody in.” “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said Father McCormack, “order, please, order.” “We’ll have to drop the whole thing now,” said the Major, “and I must say I’m extremely glad.” “I’m no more an idiot than you are yourself, doctor,” said Doyle, “and I won’t have language of the kind used to me. How was I to know he hadn’t given you the cheque?” “You were the treasurer,” said Dr. O’Grady. “What on earth is a treasurer for if he doesn’t get in the subscriptions?” “That nephew of yours will have his statue on his hands a bit longer,” said Gallagher. He still spoke in a tone of satisfaction; but even as he contemplated the extreme disappointment of Doyle’s nephew it occurred to him that there might be a difficulty about paying his own bill for £3. The same thought struck Father McCormack. “Gentlemen,” he said, “there’s been an unfortunate mistake, but it might be worse.” “That American fellow has us robbed,” said Gallagher. “We’ll prosecute him when we catch him,” said Doyle. “It might be worse,” said Father McCormack. “We haven’t spent very much yet. The dresses for Mary Ellen can hardly have been put in hand yet, so we won’t have to pay for them.” “There’s my bill,” said Gallagher. “So there’s only Mr. Gallagher’s little account,” said Father McCormack. “We’ll have a house-to-house collection,” said Doyle, “till we get the money raised.”