On this particular night we had just entered when a man rushed in at our heels and told Seumas that “the two men who had just come into the shop were shadowed by a spy.” Sean and I at once rushed into the street and the tout, who was standing near the door, ran for his life when he saw us. He was a good judge. We changed our plans and went elsewhere that night. Henceforth we knew that Kirwan’s would be a marked house, and I never stayed there again until the Truce period. The manner in which we were warned that night illustrates how loyal the people were to us. It was quite common to get friendly warnings from newsboys and orange-sellers who saw touts hanging about. Only a few days previously I had met a group of the Dublin Castle murder gang face to face in Talbot Street. We recognised each other simultaneously and drew our guns. They did not fire. I don’t know why. As I had no desire to engage a whole group unless forced into it I didn’t fire, but walked quietly away unmolested. But to return to the spending of our winnings on the horse. Our first little dissipation was to go to the pictures at La Scala Theatre, which had just been opened in O’Connell Street. That was on the afternoon of the 11th October, 1920. In the theatre we met the two Misses Fleming, of Drumcondra, with them was Mrs. O’Brien, wife of Eamon O’Brien, of Galbally, one of the men who had taken part in the rescue at Knocklong with us, and who was now in America. Mrs. O’Brien was not only delighted but astonished to meet us. I suppose it was somewhat of a surprise to her to meet in a picture house two men whom all the troops and police in Ireland had instructions to shoot at sight. We had grown used to taking these risks now, even though it was quite probable that not one in that audience that evening would get home without being held up and searched at the door, or in the street or in the tram. We left the theatre together. Just as we stepped into the street the first man I saw was one of the murder gang who had boarded the tram with me only a few nights before. I could make no mistake about him, for he was one of the two who sat on either side of me on the tram. I saw him first. Standing on the path and scrutinising the picture-goers as they emerged he was evidently pretending to be looking for a friend, but I guessed he was looking for me. It is quite possible, though I do not think it probable, that either he or some tout had seen Sean and myself.