"He was not in the yard this morning. You have let him slip through your fingers."
"So it appears, for the moment."
"You still doubt me, Mr. Taggett?"
"I don't let persons slip through my fingers."
Richard curbed an impatient rejoinder, and said quietly, "William Durgin had an accomplice."
Mr. Taggett flushed, as if Richard had read his secret thought. Durgin's flight, if he really had fled, had suggested a fresh possibility to Mr. Taggett. What if Durgin were merely the pliant instrument of the cleverer man who was now using him as a shield? This reflection was precisely in Mr. Taggett's line. In absconding Durgin had not only secured his own personal safety, but had exonerated his accomplice. It was a desperate step to take, but it was a skillful one.
"He had an accomplice?" repeated Mr. Taggett, after a moment. "Who was it?"
"Torrini!"
"The man who was hurt the other day?"
"Yes."