I want to get past Black Donnelly's horrible place; but not before my uncle is convinced of things there. Was it really a nightmare I had last night?
No! I am certain of what I saw.
Rounding the bend, there it is. Black Donnelly's place in the spent bog, as bleak and foreboding as ever. Parked in front is Mickey Motor's motor-car. And Mickey peering in through the front window, cupping his hands to his eyes against the glare of the dirty panes.
"I brought two pigs for Donnelly. He's not in the slaughterhouse where he ought to be at this time of day. And there's no answer from the house. He must be dead or something!"
Mickey goes around to the back, to enter the slaughterhouse by the trapdoor, the one used to haul the carcasses by the winch. There is an entrance to the house from the slaughterhouse. Mickey seems to know his way around the forbidding place. We wait for Mickey to reappear. My uncle hammers on the door with his fists
