At Lackelly we met Treacy and Robinson once more. We felt like a group of schoolboys on a holiday. Somehow when the four of us were together all the dark clouds seemed to scatter. We forgot we were hunted outlaws with a heavy price on our heads, and when we met we talked and joked long into the night, and exchanged our experiences and our adventures since we had parted. Treacy and Robinson had gone about Dublin freely and openly, and had quite a pleasant time. We, on our part, tried to make them jealous by telling them of our great time at the priest’s house, and were able to boast of being helped by the British soldiers on our way to that place. Seumas was able to retort with an equally amusing experience. It seems that on their way from Tipperary to Dublin the car broke down just at Maryboro’ Jail, and immediately several soldiers rushed to their assistance to get it started again. In Dublin, too, they had many adventures, but these I cannot go into. Meantime, the police and military were still busy searching the whole county of Tipperary for us, and digging up gardens and bogs in search of the missing explosives. They watched our haunts, and raided every place we were ever known to frequent. In spite of the difficulties this state of things created, the four of us determined that it was useless to remain inactive. The encounter at Soloheadbeg stirred the country, and showed the Volunteers what could be done, but our absence might nullify these effects. The three months that had passed since then seemed to us to have been wasted. The I.R.A. was still only a name. In theory there was a fairly good organisation. Every county had its Brigade and its Battalions, and arms were not altogether lacking, but of what use, we asked ourselves, are men who are soldiers only in name, and of guns that are oiled and cleaned but never fired? The men were not wanting in courage, but they needed more initiative. At that time all they could do was go to jail. All over the country men were allowing themselves to be arrested and imprisoned for drilling or carrying arms, but they never seemed to think of using the arms rather than go to jail. We made up our minds when we met at Lackelly that this business of going to jail and becoming cheap heroes must stop. We wanted a real army, not a hollow mockery. Even if such an army numbered a few score only, it would be far better than the present organisation. We thought Soloheadbeg would have been followed by active operations all over the country, but now it was becoming a mere memory.