To attempt to rescue him from that place would have been worse than madness. It would have been as easy to storm the gates of hell. Thurles is a fairly large town, and had a big garrison of both police and military. The barrack was strongly fortified, and the peelers were always on the alert. Their positions made alertness essential. They were in the middle of an area that was soon to become the centre of active warfare, and they were on the main road from Dublin to Cork. There was never the slightest hope of rushing the barracks or of effecting an entrance by a ruse, and besides, we knew that the presence of Sean Hogan in their stronghold would make them all the more careful, for they knew he was one of the four men wanted for the attack at Soloheadbeg. The bits of information they had picked up, and our disappearance from the locality made it certain to them from the first day that we were in that adventure. But there was one gleam of hope. We knew he would not be kept long in Thurles. Prisoners were only kept in these local stations for a day or two while the preliminary enquiries and remands were being gone through. Then they were transferred to one of the largest prisons—Mountjoy, Cork, Maryboro’, Dundalk or Belfast. In the case of Tipperary men, and indeed men from all over Munster, Cork was generally the destination. The odds were ten to one that in a day or two Sean Hogan would be taken by train from Thurles to Cork. Our plans were quickly completed. We would go to Emly, intercept the escort, hold up the train and rescue our comrade. We chose Emly for many reasons. It was a small station, and there were no soldiers convenient; the police we did not particularly mind. It was in the heart of a district with which we were familiar, and in which we had many friends. It almost touched the borders of three counties, and consequently increased our chances of evading pursuit, since the enemy would not easily discover whether we retreated to the mountains, to North Cork, to South Tipperary, or to East Limerick. Above all, we had faith in many of the boys from the neighbouring village of Galbally. But holding up a train and making arrangements for the removal of our rescued companion, and for our own escape, are not operations that can be carried out by three men. We needed help; we must get reinforcements. We at once secured the services of a special Volunteer despatch-rider; for, naturally, neither telegrams nor telephones were to be thought of. To trust these means of communication would be the same as to send the British word of our plans. Our first care was to send full details of our plans to the Acting Commandant of the Tipperary town Battalion, with orders to send us the reinforcements. Emly would be only seven miles, less than an hour’s cycle run, from Tipperary town.