"Barring Father—"
"Shut up. Wait till I've finished. When did you first see this Wyck, whom you called a soft line?"
"The first time I saw him was the second cos I only had a back view first. It was one morning just as I drove to the stand, about ten o'clock. I was in my cab, and Dick Burton was just foreninst of me. I twigged a fellow coming along who looked like a swell looking out for a cab, so I drove up to him before Dick could, but by jabers if he did not pass me right by and beckon to Dick. That was Wyck. I was a bit cross all day, and when I saw Dick in the evening I asked him who he was. 'He's my property,' says he. 'He's a good un, and allus pays in gold.' Dick drove him about for several days, and last night he comes to me in great excitement. 'Terence,' says he, 'we'll go on the booze.' 'All right,' says I; and we had a regular good booze, we had. Bill was regular screwed, and he told me his pigeon had gone away and left him. He's gone to the "toight little island." That's what we call Tasmania, sir; and that's all I know, so help me."
"Where did Wyck live?"
"At the Gaiety. He was a bit sweet on a gal there. Lord, he was a lady's man, he was. Always had them out driving."
"What sort of a man is Dick Burton?" asked Reg, now speaking for the first time.
"Well, sir, I don't like to say bad of any man if I could say good, but Dick Burton is a bad egg, sir."
"What do you mean by a bad egg?"
"Well, as I said before, I don't—"
"Yes, we know all that."