His eyes puckered, his lips pursed a little, Hooker read the description of Gentleman Jim.
“Why, that’s right,” he said slowly. “It does sort of fit, and no mistake. But Pipe didn’t say anything about this to me. You know I told you how he came round and asked me a lot of questions, some of which I couldn’t answer, and the most of which seemed more or less foolish. He tried to find out everything I knew about you and your folks, seeming especially anxious to learn where you came from when you moved into Oakdale. Now what’s that got to do with this stuff in the newspaper?”
Fred laughed shortly. “You see,” he explained, with a touch of scorn, “Sleuth was trying to connect us somehow with the notorious and desperate Mr. Wilson.”
“How could he do that?”
“Have you forgotten that your stranger made inquiries concerning the Sages in Oakdale? Now you tumble; you’re on. If that man was Wilson, he would not make such inquiries without some knowledge of us, and, if he knew us, it was natural to suppose that we knew him. I informed Piper that I had never heard of such a man.”
“That should have ended it.”
“Not with Sleuth. Doubtless he reasoned that if we had ever known this criminal we would, most naturally, be sure to deny the fact.”
“But you never did know him?”
Sage shot his friend a quick, resentful glance. “Do you think I’d lie, even to Piper?”
“Of course not.”