“I was thinking,” said Jimmy, “that if his lordship here would draw down the subject of boots, and was to say that all boots was the better of being cleaned, and then if I was to say that Bridgy was doing nothing particular and would be glad to give a rub to any lady’s boots that liked, that maybe she’d take them off herself.” “If that’s the best you can do in the way of a suggestion,” said Mr. Goddard, “you might as well have kept it to yourself. Is it likely she’d take off her boots at this hour of the day to please you?” “It wouldn’t be to please me,” said Jimmy; “it would be his lordship that would ask her at the latter end.” “I’m afraid,” said Lord Manton, “she wouldn’t do it for me. She doesn’t like me. You’d think she would, but as a matter of fact she doesn’t.” “How would it be,” said Jimmy, “if I was to have a telegram for her? The young lady that minds the post-office is a niece of my own. It might be in it that it was from the doctor himself and came from New York. That would turn her mind away from the police.” “She wouldn’t believe it,” said Mr. Goddard. “Not if you were to go in and swear to it on a Bible. She says you’re an awful liar.” “Begad, then, I don’t know what it would be best to do.” Sergeant Farrelly, Constable Cole, and Constable Moriarty arrived at the door. They had been summoned by Lord Manton’s coachman after he had deposited the party at the hotel. The situation was explained to them by Mr. Goddard. Sergeant Farrelly expressed perfect readiness to go to Rosivera and make any inquiries that were considered necessary. When asked whether he could escape without Miss Blow, he looked blank. As a matter of fact, Miss Blow had opened the door of the commercial room and was watching the party in the hall with suspicious eyes. “Unless,” said Constable Cole, “we could hit on some kind of a stratagem.” “You and your stratagems,” said the sergeant; “we’ve heard enough of them.” “If you have a stratagem in your mind,” said Mr. Goddard, “trot it out. But there’s no use your suggesting taking her boots, or sending her a bogus telegram. We’ve discussed those two plans already.” “Don’t you give heed to him,” said the sergeant. “Stratagems is never out of his mouth, and there’s no sense at all in what he says.” “How would it be,” said Constable Cole, “if the sergeant and myself was to go off to Rosivera on our bikes?” “That’s been suggested before,” said Mr. Goddard, “and it’s no good. She has a bicycle herself, and she’d go with you.” “Sure he knows she has a bicycle,” said Jimmy O’Loughlin. “Didn’t he see her riding in on it this morning, the time you were off up at the Castle? And didn’t he remark on its being mighty like the machine that the sergeant’s wife beyond in Ballymoy is after buying?” “I did,” said Constable Cole. “If you knew all that,” said Mr. Goddard, “what on earth was the good of your suggesting that you and the sergeant should go on bicycles? Don’t you know she’d be after you?”