“He’s not the first,” said Jimmy, “nor he won’t be the last. There was Cooney that was treasurer of the League, and nobody ever heard of him after. It was upwards of twenty pounds he had. There was----” “It’s larceny,” said Constable Cole. “You’re wrong there,” said the sergeant. “It’s misappropriation of public funds under trust, besides the charge that might be brought by the subscribers of obtaining money under false pretences.” “You’ll never get him,” said Jimmy. “It isn’t him I’m thinking of,” said the sergeant, “but his wife that’s left with a long family dependent on her and not knowing where to look for the bit to put into their mouths.” “It’s a pity of the creature,” said Constable Cole. “It’s badly she’ll be able to do without him.” “If so be,” said Jimmy, “that Patsy’s gone the way you say, he’ll have left a trifle behind him for the widow, be the same more or less. He always had a good heart, and it wouldn’t be like a thing he’d do to leave his children to starve.” “Devil the penny she owned up to anyway,” said the sergeant. “Then he’ll send it,” said Jimmy; “he’ll send it from America.” “He might,” said the sergeant. “The world,” said Constable Cole, “is full of trouble, any way you look at it.” “Does Father Moroney know he’s gone?” asked Jimmy. “I’m thinking he must,” said the sergeant; “he could hardly miss hearing the way the creature was going on in the street, crying all sorts.” “He’ll be apt to be raising a subscription for her,” said Jimmy, “to put her over until such time as Patsy sends home the trifle he has for her.” “I’ll give something towards it myself,” said the sergeant, “and I’ll see that the men in the barrack contributes.” Jimmy O’Loughlin was not to be outdone in generosity by the members of the constabulary. “I have the pound by me,” he said, “that I’d promised Patsy Devlin, the poor boy, for the sports. I hadn’t it paid over to him, thanks be to God. I’d be thankful to you, sergeant, if you’d take it and hand it on to Father Moroney. It’s no more than due to the woman, seeing that her husband could have had it if he’d thought of taking it, and I’ll add another five shillings to it from myself.” He handed the whole sum over to Sergeant Farrelly, who put it in his pocket. “He was always a bit of a lad, that Patsy Devlin,” said Constable Cole. “He might be a bit foolish at times,” said Jimmy; “but there was no harm in him.” “It’s as good for you,” said the sergeant, “that you didn’t make him the inspector of sheep dipping that time.” “It was that preyed on his mind,” said Jimmy. “He never rightly got over it. I don’t say he’d have been elected--there was better men up for the job than him--but he destroyed himself altogether when he went getting a testimonial to his character from Lord Manton. The League wouldn’t stand the like of that, and small blame to them. It couldn’t be expected that they would.”