256 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



sails full while beating out, and then I turned to 

 take stock of our position. I was doing this when 

 Harry came up to me, untied the strings of my 

 south-wester and helped me out of my oilskin gar- 

 ments, and, while doing so, remarked : " There's been 

 a lot of piers and luggage in this day's doings, 

 dad." 



There were a number of men very near us packing 

 mackerel but so directly under the eyes of one in 

 authority that no one looked our way. 



I have known men made joyous and not a little 

 proud by having handed to them a Bradshaw to 

 solve a problem. My travelling joy is a map. I 

 took one from my pocket and saw we were about 

 seven miles from Clifden, the place where the pro- 

 prietor of the Dudley Arms, A. F. Macdonnell, had 

 cared so well for friends of mine that all I felt in 

 need of now was a car to take us to him. 



We piled our luggage and marched off in search 

 of one, found it quickly and had some tea while it 

 was being horsed by a real Irish trotter that made 

 the miles speed past in such a fashion that in less 

 than an hour we were sitting down to a first-class 

 dinner with just the man sitting next to me, had 

 I known him, I should have most desired to 

 meet. 



The landlord had told me in a most confidential 

 tone that the gentleman who would be dining with 

 us was Mr Shimmer, a Congested Districts' Board 

 Inspector, who had been a captain in the Merchant 

 Service. That Mr Shimmer was an observant man 

 was soon apparent, for we were no sooner seated 

 than he said : " I see you have come to fish. May 

 I ask where you intend to try your luck ? " 



