Hastily I tried to make it out. If the report of this Rascon had been true, did it not seem to explain and motivate Honora? But, I reasoned immediately, even if it were untrue and if Wilford believed those reports he received and wanted to believe, was there not just as compelling a situation?
The thing was important and dangerous for her, either way one looked at it.
A few more questions and it was evident that Rascon, in spite of the baiting that Doyle had given him, was pretty well on guard and in control of himself and would admit nothing unless Doyle had documentary proof or something just as good. Doyle, not wishing to disclose the limit of his information, turned the interview short.
"That'll do," dismissed Doyle. "You may go, Rascon. I'll have more from you later."
Rascon backed out, sheepishly, eager to get away.
"I'll have his license revoked," muttered Doyle, calming down after the stormy quizzing.
Doyle's contempt for Rascon knew no bounds. As for Rascon, I knew the method he had adopted. Once Rascon, or any of that breed, had a case involving clients with money, he proceeded to nurse the case along, to play one party to the case against the other. But I had not often run across cases where the crooked detective, who is a pest despised by all honest detectives even more than by other people, had been so brazen about collecting all the traffic would bear from each side, indiscriminately.
"Why not ask Mrs. Wilford herself about it?" I suggested, as neither Kennedy nor Doyle said anything.
"Better not—yet," objected Doyle, hastily. "I want to watch her a little herself. I particularly bluffed Rascon into not telling her a word of this."
"Oh, that's all right," acquiesced Craig.