'I'm glad to hear it,' said the Saint, with intense earnestness. 'Well, bye-bye, old dear.'
He strolled down the stairs, humming a little tune.
No one attempted to stop him. The hall was deserted. He let himself out and sauntered down Belgrave Street, swinging his stick.
As a bluffing interview it had not borne the fruit he had hoped for. Since their first encounters, the girl had recovered a great deal of the poise and self-control that his studied impudence had at first been able to flurry her into losing. On that occasion she had given nothing away of importance—only that she had an interest in Waldstein. This was perhaps one interest that Simon Templar shared with her wholeheartedly.
HOW SIMON TEMPLAR MADE A SLIGHT ERROR,
AND PINKY BUDD MADE A BIG ONE
Two days later, Simon Templar went unostentatiously to a certain public house in Aldgate. He was not noticed, for he had made some subtle alterations to his appearance and bearing. One man, however, recognized him, and they moved over to a quiet corner of the bar.
'Have they been in touch with you again?' was the Saint's immediate question.
Mr. Dyson nodded.
His right eye was still disfigured by a swollen black-and-blue bruise. Mr. Dyson, thinking it over subsequently, had decided that ten pounds was an inadequate compensation for the injury, but it was too late to reopen that discussion.
'They sent for me yesterday,' he said. 'I went at once, and they gave me a very good welcome.'
'Did you drink it?' asked the Saint interestedly.
'They've definitely taken me on.'
'And the news?'
'It was like this ...'
Simon listened to a long recital which told him nothing at all of any value, and departed a pound poorer than he had been when he came. It was the highest value he could place upon Mr. Dyson's first budget of information, and Slinky's aggrieved pleading made no impression upon the Saint at all.'
He got back to the Yard to hear some real news.
'Your Angels have been out again while you weren't watching them,' said Cullis, as soon as the Saint had answered his summons. 'Essenden was beaten up last night.'
'Badly?'
'Not very. The servants were still about, and Essenden was able to let off a yell which fetched them around in a bunch. The man got away. It seems that Essenden found him in his bedroom when he went upstairs about eleven o'clock. He tried to tackle the man, and got the worst of the fight. The burglar was using a cosh.'
'And who did the good work?'
'Probably your friend Slinky. I've put a warrant out for him, anyway.'
'Then take it back,' said the Saint. 'Slinky never used a cosh in his life. Besides, I happen to know that he didn't do it.'
'I suppose he told you so?'
'He didn't—that's