Katie had come to the bed and had bent down with her left ear to Gypo’s face, listening to his breathing. She raised her face to look at the old woman. “He’s dead asleep,” she whispered with a smile. “Well? Is that queer?” “Don’t wake him while I’m gone, Louisa.” “Where are ye goin’?” “Mind yer own business, Louisa. I’m givin’ ye warnin’.” “Is it to the polis yer goin’?” “Don’t talk so loud. It’s not to the polis I’m goin’. I’m just goin’ out.” “Ha! Yer goin’ to inform on him ye rip o’ divilment. Yer goin’ to inform on him.” “It’s nothin’ o’ the kind. Isn’t he an informer? Don’t make a noise. Don’t waken him or they’ll fill ye full o’ lead when they come. I’m givin’ ye this warnin’. Shut up.” She moved backwards to the door, with her hand held out threateningly towards the old woman. The old woman looked after her. Her mouth was wide open. Her eyes roamed about. Then Katie disappeared out the door. Her shoes went tapping down the stairs. The banisters creaked. The room was still, except for Gypo’s heavy breathing. The old woman remained motionless for several seconds, looking towards the door. Then she groped for her stick and tried to rouse Gypo with it. But Gypo’s arm still lay across her body holding it down. In his sleep it stiffened and held her down. She peered at it and frowned. She dropped the stick and smiled. “Ha!” she gurgled, “she’s gone to inform on ye, me fine boyo. They’ll soon be here after ye. Trust a woman, trust a devil. She’ll be the ruin o’ ye, me bould warrior. An’ many’s the fine strappin’ woman from yer own country would give her two eyes for a night with ye. An’ here ye lie, asleep an’ weak, with the weariness o’ death on ye. Ha! The divil mend the lot o’ ye. Ha! There ye are now. Ha! There ye are now an’ be damned to ye. Ha! Ha!” Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep and strange dreams. CHAPTER XVII At sixteen minutes to six, Mulholland rushed down the stairs into the Bogey Hole, shouting in a hushed whisper all the way: “Commandant, Commandant, we have him, we have him!” Gallagher rushed to the stairway. He found Mulholland grasping the wall with one hand, with his cap in the other hand, panting, with perspiration rolling down his cheeks in drops. “It was Katie Fox,” he gasped. “She came runnin’ down Mount William Road: Charlie Carrol headed her off. She tole him Gypo was up in her room, in bed. No. 61 Mount William Crescent. Captain Burton has got the house surrounded. He sent me up for orders.” “Katie Fox?” said Gallagher. “I thought she was——” “She’s mad with dope.” “I see. Double back and tell Burton I’ll be down immediately. Don’t move till I arrive.” “All right, Commandant.” Mulholland raced up the stairs again. Gallagher rushed back to the witnesses’ room. Mary McPhillip had fallen into a doze. He roused her. “Come on, Mary,” he whispered. “We are going now. We found him.” “Who? What? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Who did you find?”