self up to the point
of speaking at all.

The two policemen listened to all he said with the utmost good humour.
Indeed, the sergeant supported him.

"You hear what the doctor's saying to you, Constable Malone," he said.

"I do, surely," said the constable.

"Well, I hope you'll attend to it," said the sergeant, "and let there be
no more of the sort of work that the doctor's complaining of."

"But I mean you too, sergeant," said Dr. Lovaway. "You're just as
much to blame as the constable. Indeed more, for you're his superior
officer."

"I know that," said the sergeant; "I know that well. And what's more,
I'm thankful to you, doctor, for speaking out what's in your mind. Many
a one wouldn't do it. And I know that every word you've been saying is
for my good and for the good of Constable Malone, who's a young man yet
and might improve if handled right. That's why I'm thanking you, doctor,
for what you've said."

When Solomon said that a soft answer turneth away wrath he understated
a great truth. A soft answer, if soft enough, will deflect the stroke
of the sword of justice. Dr. Lovaway, though his conscience was still
uneasy, could say no more. He felt that it was totally impossible to
report Sergeant Rahilly's way of dealing with lunatics to the higher
authorities.

That night Sergeant Rahilly called on Mr. Flanagan, going into the house
by the back door, for the hour was late. He chose porter rather than
whisky, feeling perhaps that his nerves needed soothing and that a
stronger stimulant might be a little too much for him. After finishing a
second bottle and opening a third, he spoke.

"I'm troubled in my mind," he said, "over this new doctor. Here I am
doing the best I can for him ever since he came to the town, according
to what I promised Dr. Farelly."

"No man," said Flanagan, "could do more than what you've done. Everyone
knows that."

"I've set the police scouring the country," said the sergeant,
"searching high and low and in and out for anyone, man or woman, that
was the least bit queer in the head. They've worked hard, so they have,
and I've worked hard myself."

"No man harder," said Flanagan.

"And everyone we found," said the Sergeant, "was a guinea into the
doctor's pocket. A guinea, mind you, that's the fee for certifying a
lunatic, and devil a penny either I or the constables get out of it."

"Nor you wouldn't be looking for it, sergeant. I know that."

"I would not. And I'm not comp