‘Where is Brendan’s shillelagh?’ The words rang all through Maeve’s half-sleep that night. When she did fall properly asleep for minutes, she would see the ugly blackthorn stick floating in front of her, and she would shoot back to consciousness.
Danny had been sure that Brendan would have taken his weapon with him - work camps were rough places where a man might be called upon to defend himself at any time. And if he had taken it, then where was the shillelagh now?
Maeve had finally agreed to do nothing until the next day after work, when Danny would track down Constable Macdonald - or even the frightening Sergeant McWhirter to see if they knew.
Danny returned with the news that Constable Macdonald would come and see them later in the evening.
The policeman did know. Maeve asked him t
