You'd think that would have been enough for Simpkins, but it wasn't. He
wrote another letter, up to Dublin Castle, to the Inspector-General of
Police, no less, and the end of it, was that the sergeant was moved out
of this."
"Poor fellow," said Meldon. "Did he mind much?"
"He did not then, for they sent him to a better station. It was only
last week they moved him, there being a lot of enquiries to be gone
through that occupied them the whole of the winter and the spring. The
doctor and myself is thinking of getting up a subscription to present him
with an illuminated address on account of the way he conducted himself to
the satisfaction of the inhabitants of this town while he was in it, and
as a protest against the underhand way that Simpkins went about trying to
injure him and take the bread out of the mouth of his children."
"I'll see that the Major subscribes to that," said Meldon.
"Tell Mr. Meldon," said Doyle, "what it was you were saying ought to be
on the address."
"It isn't worth speaking about," said the doctor modestly.
"You'd better tell me," said Meldon. "If I'm to be responsible for
revenging the wrongs of the community on Simpkins, I ought to be well up
in every detail of what's going on.
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