Part 5 (1/2)

”Major,” he said, ”can you tell me who was General John Regan?”

”Never heard of him,” said the Major, ”but if he owns that car he must be a middling well-off man.”

”Look here, Doyle,” said Dr. O'Grady, ”you know that filly the Major bought at the fair.”

”I've heard of her,” said Doyle.

”Well, as it happens,” said Dr. O'Grady, ”she turns out to be a bit too good for what he wants. His idea was to get something to do a bit of carting, and it turns out that this one is?well, she has breeding. Now, look here, Doyle???”

He led Doyle apart just out of earshot of the Major and Gallagher.

”I owe you a trifle, don't I, Doyle?”

”As near as I can go to it without looking at my books,” said Doyle, ”you owe me 60, and I'd be thankful if so be that it's quite convenient to you??”

”It isn't a bit convenient,” said Dr. O'Grady, ”but I quite admit that I owe the money. Now what I suggest is this. I've persuaded the Major to let you have that filly cheap, dirt cheap. It will be found money to you, Doyle, if you get her at the price the Major's going to name, and you may be able to knock a pound or two off that. Under these circ.u.mstances and seeing that I'm putting the chance in your way?it isn't everyone that could, but I'm a friend of the Major's and he trusts me?I think you ought to stop talking about the trifle I owe you. I'm sick of the subject.”

”You're not near as sick of it as I am,” said Doyle, ”and I don't know that I want the filly.”

”You do want her,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”You want anything that you can make money out of. Hullo! Who's that?”

Mr. Billing, carrying his camera, appeared at the door of the hotel.

”It's the American gentleman that owns the motorcar,” said Doyle. ”Tell me this now, doctor. Did ever you hear of General John Regan?”

”Of course I did,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”He's a well-known millionaire, just the sort of man to be touring the country in a big motor. Go you off now and settle with the Major about the filly. I'll entertain the General for you.”

”For G.o.d's sake, doctor, be careful what you say,” said Doyle in a whisper. ”The General's dead this twenty years and it's a statue there ought to be to his memory. So that fellow's after saying, any way.”

”Oh, all right,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”It's just the same thing. I'll manage. You go and settle with the Major.”

He approached Mr. Billing jauntily.

”Delighted to meet you, sir,” he said. ”Delighted to welcome you to Ballymoy. You'll find it a most interesting locality. My name is O'Grady, Lucius O'Grady, M.D.”

Mr. Billing took off his hat, laid down his camera, and shook hands with the doctor.

”Mine is Billing,” he said. ”Horace P. Billing. I come from America. My object in visiting Ballymoy??”

”The poor old General, of course,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”We thought you'd be sure to come sooner or later. Your uncle, wasn't he, or great uncle?

I forget.”

Mr. Billing seemed surprised, very much surprised. He dropped Dr.

O'Grady's hand abruptly and stared at him. Then he recovered himself with an effort.

”I can't claim relations.h.i.+p with that great man,” he said.

”That's a pity,” said Dr. O'Grady.

”I'm his biographer,” said Mr. Billing. ”I'm engaged in writing the first complete life of the founder of the Bolivian Republic. I have come to Ballymoy??”