believe he faithfully did his duty according to his lights, in the
service in which he was engaged. He was a conscientious Catholic, and a
son of his is a most respected priest in the diocese of Liverpool. He
was a kind-hearted, charitable man, always ready to do a good turn,
particularly for a fellow-countryman. If an Irish policeman called his
attention to some poor waif of an Irish child who had lost its parents,
or was in evil surroundings--having parents worse than none, or in
danger of losing its faith--Laurence Kehoe would take the matter in
hand. He would not always go through the formality of bringing the case
of such child under the notice of the managers of one or other of the
Catholic orphanages. When I was Secretary of Father Nugent's Boys'
Refuge, he brought one of these waifs to the Brother Director, and
claimed admittance for him. The place was full, the Brother said--it
could not be done. Without another word Kehoe left the child on the
doorstep, and simply saying, "Good-night," left Brother Tertullian
sorely perplexed, but with no alternative but to take the child in.

Now, Laurence Kehoe must have known that I was a notorious suspect--for
it was his duty to know--but we were good friends, never, however,
talking politics by any possible chance. I cannot, of course, state for
certain how it was, but the reader, from what I am going to describe,
may possibly come to the conclusion that Detective Superintendent Kehoe
may have shut both eyes and ears in my particular case.

To Rickard Burke was entrusted the critical and dangerous task of buying
and distributing arms for the revolutionary movement. _Exit_ Rickard
Burke, in the usual way, through the prison gate. _Enter_ Arthur
Forrester, who, in due course, found his way also--though but for a
short time--within prison walls. Then, following in quick succession,
came Michael Davitt, engaged in the same task as Burke and Forrester.