_Mr. Quirke:_ (_Sitting down with a smile._) Is that so? Well, isn’t it a wonder the schemers does be in the world. _Sergeant:_ It is not the first time there have been complaints. _Mr. Quirke:_ I suppose not. Well, it is on their own head it will fall at the last! _Sergeant:_ I have found nothing so far. _Mr. Quirke:_ I suppose not, indeed. What is there you could find, and it not in it? _Sergeant:_ Have you no meat at all upon the premises? _Mr. Quirke:_ I have, indeed, a nice barrel of bacon. _Sergeant:_ What way did it die? _Mr. Quirke:_ It would be hard for me to say that. American it is. How would I know what way they do be killing the pigs out there? Machinery, I suppose, they have—steam hammers—— _Sergeant:_ Is there nothing else here at all? _Mr. Quirke:_ I give you my word, there is no meat living or dead in this place, but yourself and myself and that bird above in the cage. _Sergeant:_ Well, I must tell the Inspector I could find nothing. But mind yourself for the future. _Mr. Quirke:_ Thank you, Sergeant. I will do that. (_Enter Fardy. He stops short._) _Sergeant:_ It was you delayed that message to me, I suppose? You’d best mend your ways or I’ll have something to say to you. (_Seizes and shakes him._) _Fardy:_ That’s the way everyone does be faulting me. (_Whimpers._) (_The Sergeant gives him another shake. A half-crown falls out of his pocket._) _Miss Joyce:_ (_Picking it up._) A half-a-crown! Where, now, did you get that much, Fardy? _Fardy:_ Where did I get it, is it! _Miss Joyce:_ I’ll engage it was in no honest way you got it. _Fardy:_ I picked it up in the street—— _Miss Joyce:_ If you did, why didn’t you bring it to the Sergeant or to his Reverence? _Mrs. Delane:_ And some poor person, may be, being at the loss of it. _Miss Joyce:_ I’d best bring it to his Reverence. Come with me, Fardy, till he will question you about it. _Fardy:_ It was not altogether in the street I found it—— _Miss Joyce:_ There, now! I knew you got it in no good way! Tell me, now. _Fardy:_ It was playing pitch and toss I won it—— _Miss Joyce:_ And who would play for half-crowns with the like of you, Fardy Farrell? Who was it, now? _Fardy:_ It was—a stranger—— _Miss Joyce:_ Do you hear that? A stranger! Did you see e’er a stranger in this town, Mrs. Delane, or Sergeant Carden, or Mr. Quirke? _Mr. Quirke:_ Not a one. _Sergeant:_ There was no stranger here. _Mrs. Delane:_ There could not be one here without me knowing it. _Fardy:_ I tell you there was. _Miss Joyce:_ Come on, then, and tell who was he to his Reverence. _Sergeant:_ (_Taking other arm._) Or to the bench. _Fardy:_ I did get it, I tell you, from a stranger. _Sergeant:_ Where is he, so? _Fardy:_ He’s in some place—not far away. _Sergeant:_ Bring me to him. _Fardy:_ He’ll be coming here. _Sergeant:_ Tell me the truth and it will be better for you. _Fardy:_ (_Weeping._) Let me go and I will. _Sergeant:_ (_Letting go._) Now—who did you get it from?