Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 130: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

128 W. R. BURNETT Michael lay back and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. After a while he fell into a deep sleep, and Trim tiptoed out. The next afternoon, Michael was surprised to hear a tapping at the smoke-house door. He drew out a pistol from under his pillow and lay waiting; but finally he heard Big Tom’s voice, very low: *‘ Are you asleep, Captain? Are you asleep? ”’ Michael called impatiently: ‘‘ Come in. Come in, man.” The door opened, and Big Tom looked in. ‘‘ Captain, do you feel up to hearing great news and speaking a word to Mahony and his lads? ” “ Yes,”’ cried Michael, perking up at once. And then Big Tom entered, followed by Mahony, and two of his henchmen, Tuer O’Brien, and Willie the Goat. They had all been drinking, and their eyes were blazing with triumph. ““ We heard the sad word,” said Mahony, “ that young Donnell has been taken. But he’s avenged already, and so is Doherty— and you yourself, Captain. Clagett has been directing the inform- ers, and they say that he alone is responsible for the taking of Donnell. Well... Clagett is no more.” Tuer O’Brien and Willie the Goat cheered savagely, and Willie did a few wild dance-steps like primitive man celebrating a great triumph over his enemies. “What? ”’ cried Michael, sitting up and staring at them. “He died of fright, the little rat,” said Mahony, “ while Tuer was putting the finishing touches to Villona, who fought like a devil from hell.” *“ Very good,” said Michael. ‘‘ So much for Clagett.” Willie drew his cutlass and made it whistle. ‘‘ Death to all Castle informers!’ he bellowed, and Tuer O’Brien followed suit with the bellowing and the whistling cutlass. ** Easy, easy, boys,” said Mahony, looking at them with distaste. Michael got his purse from under the mattress and distributed the guineas, and finally Willie and Tuer were ushered out by Mahony. Regis Donnell’s trial was “‘ short and sweet,”’ as all the propon- ents of Dublin Castle boasted proudly. As a matter of fact, it was to all intents and purposes drumhead, and Regis was sentenced to hang in two weeks’ time. The back-country people of Ireland were now rudderless. The famous Captain Martin was hardly more than a legendary figure in far-off Dublin, or maybe already: taken or dead. He had certainly disappeared. Meanwhile, the Lord-Lieutenant’s men combed Dublin—in fact, all of Ireland—for one Captain Martin, and late one night, to everybody’s horrified surprise, old Mahony began to bawl the Highwayman’s Song, their agreed warning, on the pavement in front of Nine Steps, and Big Tom could not believe his ears. What —the Lord-Lieutenant’s men at last after all these years? And now as Big Tom beat on the Chinese gong in the hall, there was a scurrying through the place like rats in a barn, and a banging comiclooks.comn