The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

the front door slam. Presently the gate clicked. . . .

And then Cullis turned to the Saint.

'So this is the end of your cleverness?'

Simon Templar eyed him coldly.

'I'm not so sure,' he said. 'I never stop being clever. And I shouldn't bet on this being the last word, if I were you. It may be my last adventure, but there are so many possible endings.'

Cullis showed his teeth.

'You'll get seven years for this night's work alone,' he said.         

'And how long do you think you'll get, old dear?' asked the Saint very gently.

Cullis returned his gaze stonily.

'I think,' he said, 'that it won't help you much to try that sort of bluff.'

'But suppose,' said the Saint——'just suppose, sweet Cullis, that it wasn't entirely a bluff. I admit that for the moment you have us under the lid. of the tureen, so to speak. But that's only a bit of luck: a chance shot through a door that ought to have missed both of us by miles. But it was good enough that Jill couldn't get away through that window—couldn't have run for it, even if we'd come out and put up a fight. And yet, Cullis, it mightn't turn out to be all jam.'

'How, for instance?' asked Cullis, as if the idea amused him.      

'When your desk was opened last night——'

'Yes?'

'Did you go through your papers after the police had come?'

'I did.'

'Carefully?'

'Yes.'

'You can't have done,' said the Saint. 'If you had, you'd have realized what we got away with.'

Cullis laughed.        

'You didn't have a chance to get away with anything. I came into the room just as she got the secret panel open, and she didn't go back again.'

'I know she didn't go back,' said the Saint, swaying gently on his toes. 'But I did.'

'You?'

'Me. Of course, you didn't realize I was there. But I was—impersonating a rhododendron in the middle dis­tance. When you followed Jill outside and shot after her as she went across the lawn, I slipped in through the win­dow, took what I wanted, and slipped out again.'

Cullis's eyes gleamed.

'And what did you take?'

'Only this.'

Simon slipped a hand in his pocket and brought out his wallet. From the wallet he took a piece of paper and unfolded it, holding it up before the assistant commis­sioner's eyes. It was a new five-pound note.

'Recognize it?'