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apologize. But it would only be the one transit. Once the dozer is in the field, it wouldn’t have to come out.”
    “Oh?” I looked pointedly at the stout stone wall. “How had you planned to get across that?”
    “Well, rather, through it,” he admitted, smiling ingenuously. “Of course, we’d build the wall back up again behind it.”
    “What comes in must go out, Mr. Kerrigan.”
    “Oh, I expect to get permission to use the other road.”
    “All the way from Glenamuck?” I asked, delighting in the surprise in his face at my knowledge, however spotty it was. “Surely you know that this is a private lane, Mr. Kerrigan, and that even one transit—much less knocking down my wall—constitutes trespass?”
    He nodded and then smiled reassuringly. “Actually, I did have permission.”
    “From whom?” I was suddenly suspicious of Kieron Thornton. I’d only his word that my great-aunt hadn’t wanted Kerrigan to have the right of way. Maybe the solicitor …
    “From a relative. You see after Miss Teasey died…” and he looked appropriately regretful.
    “No false condolences, please. I’d never met my great aunt.”
    “I had, Mrs. Teasey,” and there was suddenly nothing of the suppliant in Mr. Kerrigan’s manner. “She was a most admirable woman.”
    Because she’d refused him? I wondered privately.
    “I tried to find out who had inherited the property so I could have my solicitor make the proper application. I’ve got a lot of money tied up in that land.”
    There was now a flash of impatience in his voice, which he covered instantly with his facile charm.
    “Yes, that would be a consideration,” I said agreeably.
    “So,” and his smile was hearty again, “when I learned that it was yourself, and you in America and no one knew where, I tried to find someone in the family who could give me permission to use the lane.”
    “If
I
had inherited the property, Mr. Kerrigan, none of the relations here had any authority to give you permission for anything.” I wasn’t certain of that, but, by the expression in his eyes, I was within my rights.
    “That’s why I apologize,” and he bowed with contrition. “Because the relative assured me that he had the right to grant me the one use of the lane.”
    “Who was the so obliging relative?”
    He smiled again. “I don’t think that would be fair, do you, until this has all been sorted out?”
    “Fair to whom, Mr. Kerrigan?”
    He smiled more broadly. “You wouldn’t consider my using the lane today, since I’ve the equipment laid on and all?”
    I shook my head, smiling back. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Oh, you’re a wise one, you are,” he said finally, the grin still firmly in place. “But I feel we could sort the problems out,” and he nodded at the battered road and the stone fence, “and very soon. Say, this evening? At half seven? Over dinner?”
    “A very good suggestion.” I emphasized the last word slightly, and saw that he took my meaning. “I’m at the Montrose.” By the expression in his eyes, I guessed that he knew that.
    “You’re certain about the dozer?” he asked, with winning wistfulness.
    “Positive. You’re taking an unfair advantage of me, Mr. Kerrigan, for all your thousand welcomes.”
    “You Yanks!” I wasn’t certain if that was a compliment or not. Nonetheless, he left, bumping the Jag carefully over the ruts.
    Snow and Simon erupted out of the hedge where they’d been hiding.
    “Who he?”
    “Didn’t you hear all?”
    “Arrived late!”
    “And why didn’t you come out?”
    Simon shrugged. “You were handling him just great.”
    “Hmmmm.”
    “So we all get a free dinner tonight, huh?” asked Snow, her eyes wide.
    “Yes indeedy. This pore li’l ol’ Amurrican needs chaperones from that big Irish woof!”
    Snow giggled.
    “Sure has a beautiful Jag,” and Simon whistled softly. “Say, Mom, that car in Aunt Irene’s garage is a Mercedes! It’s in beautiful condition inside. It’s up on