"Why not?"
"Because you can't prove a thing."
Jim grinned. "Maybe not just yet. I've talked to Mrs. Haley. Bein' a
social climber she ain't any too keen to let it be known publicly that
she was imposed on by a faker. That'd make folks laugh at her. An'
if, in addition to that, it was ever known that she was the woman who
flattened the N'Yawlins cop at the end of a wild party it'd sort of
queer her about as queer as could be. An' since she ain't sufferin'
only a fifty-thousand-dollar loss anyway--she most certainly wouldn't
identify you.
"Y'see, Arthur, it's thisaway: I spotted you easy enough. You are known
out at the inn. But nobody knew the dame who was with you. An' it was
her that hit the cop. Also, I'm confessin' frankly that the maid an'
the chef an' the butler ain't gonna identify you neither. Mrs. Haley
has fixed them a-plenty. So she's in the clear, you've got the jools,
an' we're stung. That makes us plumb angry, Arthur; bein' rode for a
hundred thousand thataway. It just naturally puts it up to me to get
you an' the jools both."
"I hope you enjoy yourself trying, Jim."
"I been havin' a good enough time a'ready. But I ain't particularly
keen about the job. You're too good a crook to be in jail. But, by
gosh, Arthur, you never should of fooled with no woman!"