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‘My good woman, I–I have no such intention,’ stammered the mayor, glancing at the lad again, and liking his appearance worse than ever.

‘I thank your Worship.’ Mrs Halloran dropped a quick curtsey. ‘And so I made free to tell Halloran, who was in doubt of it. “Mr Pinsent,” I said, “is a just-minded man, an’ you may be sure,” I said, “he’ll mete out the same to all, last as well as first.”‘

‘Yes, yes!’ The mayor took her up impatiently and paused for a moment, still eyeing the boy. ‘Er–by the way, what age is your son?’

‘Rising fifteen, sir; christened fifteen years ago last St Michael’s Day, which is the twenty-ninth of September, though little good it done him. He takes after his father, sir. All the Hallorans shoot up tall, like runner beans; and thick in the bone. Or so his father says. For my part, I’ve never been to Ireland; but by the looks of en you’d say not a day less than seventeen. It seems like blood-money, my takin’ five shillin’ and handin’ the child over–at his tender age–and me his own mother that nursed en!’

Here Mrs Halloran, whose emotions had been mastering her for some moments, broke down in a violent fit of sobbing; and this so affected her offspring that he emitted a noise like the hoot of a dog. As he started it without warning, so abruptly he ended it, and looked around with an impassive face.

It was uncanny. It shook the mayor’s nerve. ‘My dear Mrs Halloran, if you will let me have a word or two with your son–‘

‘Oh, I know!’ she wailed. ‘That’s how you put it. But you give me over the money, sir, and let me go quick, before I weaken on it. You never had a child of your own, Mr Pinsent–and more’s the pity for the child–but with one of your own you’d know what it feels like!’

Mr Pinsent felt in his trouser-pocket, drew forth two half-crowns, and pressed them into Mrs Halloran’s dirty palm. With a sob and a blessing she escaped. He heard her run sobbing down the passage to the front door. Then he turned upon Mike.

The boy had sidled round with his back against the wall, and stood there with his left elbow up and his fists half clenched. For the space of half a minute the mayor eyed him, and he eyed the mayor.

‘Sit down, Mike,’ said the mayor gently.

‘Goo! What d’ye take me for?’ said Mike, lifting his hands a little.

‘Sit down, I tell you.’

‘Huh–yes, an’ let you cop me over the head? You just try it–that’s all; you just come an’ try it?’

‘I–er–have no intention of trying it,’ said Mr Pinsent. ‘It certainly would not become me to administer–to inflict–corporal punishment on a youth of your–er–inches. What grieves me–what pains me more than I can say, is to find a boy of your–er-size and er–development–by which I mean mental development, sense of responsibility–er–mixed up in this disgraceful affair. I had supposed it to be a prank, merely–a piece of childish mischief–and that the perpetrators were quite small boys.’ (Here–not a doubt of it–Mr Pinsent was telling the truth.)

‘Why,’ he went on, with the air of one making a pleasant little discovery, ‘I shouldn’t be surprised to find you almost as tall as myself! Yes. I declare I believe you are quite as tall! No’-he put up a hand as Mike, apparently suspecting a ruse, backed in a posture of defence–‘we will not take our measures to-day. I have something more serious to think about. For you will have noticed that while I suspected this robbery to be the work of small thoughtless boys, I treated it lightly; but now that I find a great strapping fellow like you mixed up in the affair, it becomes my business to talk to you very seriously indeed.’