joke?' he demanded.
And Weald's face told him it was not a joke. He turned to the girl again.
'Why didn't you get me on the telephone?' he asked harshly. 'Isn't that what it's here for?'
'The exchange told me that the trunk line was out of order,' said Jill quietly. 'And don't talk to me like that. I don't like it.'
Donnell faced her cold gaze three seconds and then dropped his eyes.
'No offense,' he muttered.
'Forget it,' said the girl briskly. 'We've got about three or four minutes, I should say, before Templar turns up. I'd like him to have a welcome. He'll be alone—I'm certain of that. What can you do about it?'
'There are half a dozen of the boys downstairs.'
'Can you stop him getting in?'
Donnell grinned.
'I could stop an army,' he bragged.
'Can you stop the Saint?'
'Haven't you seen round this house?' asked Donnell. 'I've had it ready for years, just for something like this. I'll take you round, if you like, and you can see for yourself.'
Jill tightened the belt of her coat.
'I'll look round on my own, if you don't mind,' she said. 'I know what to look for, and it probably isn't what you'd show me. Give Weald a drink while I'm gone—I guess he needs it.'
She went out, and Donnell picked up a bottle and a glass. He poured out four good fingers of the spirit, and Weald grabbed it and drank it neat. Then he turned to Donnell; the fire-water had steadied him up a bit—in a way.
'You believe it isn't a joke?' he said.
Donnell nodded.
'Yes, I believe it now.'
'I'm up against it,' panted Weald flabbily. 'I'm up against it much more than you are. They can only get you for a bashing, but they can get me for a lot more.'
'Ever beat up a 'tec?'
'More than that. I can't tell you. They might . . . Donnell, you've got to get us out of this!'
Donnell's eyebrows came down.
'What do you mean, get you out of it? What about me?'
Weald clutched his arm.
'You don't understand. I've got to get away. I've got to take the girl with me. Is there any back way out of this —any bolt hole you've prepared? I've got money——'
Donnell thrust him roughly into a chair and pushed the whisky bottle towards him. Weald helped himself greedily to another half-glassful.
'Now you're talking,' said Donnell. 'How much?'
Weald dragged a note case
