'Lovely day, Jill,' remarked the Saint, very amiably.
She relaxed wearily against the jamb.
'My—sainted—aunt! Have you got away from your keeper again?'
'Looks like it,' said the Saint apologetically. 'Yes, I will stay to tea, thanks. Ring down to the kitchen and tell them not to mix arsenic with the sugar, because I don't take sugar. And it's no use putting strychnine in the milk, because I don't take milk. Just tell 'em to shovel the whole bag of tricks in the teapot.'
He walked calmly past her into the room, and sat down in the best chair. As an afterthought, he removed his hat.
The girl followed him in.
'Is your posse outside again?'
'I wonder?' said the Saint. 'Why don't you go out and ask? You don't know where you are just now, do you? One time I tell you I haven't a posse, and I haven't. Another time I tell you I have a posse and I haven't. Now suppose I tell you I haven't a posse you'll know I have, won't you?'
She shrugged and took a cigarette from a silver box. Then she offered the box to him.
'Have one?'
'Not with you, darling.'
'Did I hear you say 'No, thanks'?'
'Er—no, I don't think so,' said the Saint seriously. 'Did you?'
With the smoke trickling through her lips the girl looked at him.
'Have you come on business this time?' she inquired. 'Or is this just another part of the official persecution?'
'Partly on business, partly on pleasure,' said Simon, unabashed. 'Which will you have first?'
'The business, please.'
'It's a pleasure,' said the Saint accommodatingly. 'I've come to do you a good turn, Jill.'
'Is that so?'
'Yes, that is so. Oh, yeah? Yeah. Ses you? Ses me. In fact, yes ... I want to warn you. A dark man is going to cross your path. Beware of him. His name is Slinky Dyson.'
The name roused no more response than a flicker of her eyelids.
'What about him?'
'He is a police spy,' said the Saint solemnly. 'I have been able to buy him over. In return for a cash reward he is going to try to join your gang and give me all the information about you that he can get hold of. So, whatever happens, don't be taken in by him.'
She read with glittering eyes the dancing devil of amusement behind his expressionlessness.
'Is this another of your funny stories?'
'It is.' The Saint sighed. 'In fact, it's one of my best. Do you know, Jill, I'm afraid you're going to get in a devil of a muddle about me, aren't you? First the business of the posse, then this. Now, do you think I'm telling you the truth in the hope that you will think I'm bluffing and fall into the trap, or do you think I'm inventing the yarn to keep you away from a man I don't want you to have? I can't help thinking that some of these questions are going to make life very difficult for you for the next few days.'
She tapped her cigarette
