“I think he was recommended to me through Orizaba; through some friend of his, if I remember correctly.”
“I had scarcely hoped for so good a reply as that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did Orizaba tell you that he personally knew Rogers?”
“No; I remember distinctly that he assured me he had never seen him.”
“Now, in the light of all that occurred later—the murder of Orizaba and the written confession of Rogers, together with his flight, little things have gone out of your mind. I want to know if in the beginning of Rogers’ employment in your service, you ever noticed any sign that passed between him and Orizaba by which you might be led to suppose that they were not unknown to each other?”
“No. I never saw a thing: but then I would be the last person in the world to see such a thing, even if it existed.”
“Now, one more question and then I will tell my story. Did it ever occur to you that Rogers and the maid, Isabel Benton, were anything more than mere fellow servants in your household?”
“Sure! He was dead stuck on her. I bantered him about it often—when I was half-full.”
“Good. Now I will tell the story.”