The Saint vs Scotland Yard (The Holy Terror)

enterprising young man. There are not many men living who could have overcome Ngano, even by the method which you adopted. The mere fact that you were able to enter this house is another testimony to your foresight—or your good luck.'

'My foresight,' said the Saint modestly.

'You moved your chair before you sat down—and that again showed remarkable intelligence. If you had sat where I in­tended you to sit, it would have been possible for me, by a slight movement of my foot, to send a bullet through the centre of your body.'

'So I guessed.'

'Since you arrived, your hand has been in your pocket several times. I presume you are armed ——'

Simon Templar inspected the finger-nails of his two hands.

'If I had been born the day before yesterday,' he observed mildly, 'you'd find out everything you wanted to know in approximately two minutes.'

'Again, a man of your reputation would not have communicated with the police——'

'But he would take great care of himself.' The Saint's eyes met Kuzela's steadily. 'I'll talk or fight, Kuzela, just as you like. Which is it to be?'

'You are prepared to deal?'

'Within limits—yes.'

Kuzela drummed his knuckles together.

'On what terms?'

'They might be—one hundred thousand pounds.'

Kuzela shrugged.

'If you came here in a week's time——'

'I should be very pleased to have a drink with you,' said the Saint pointedly.

'Suppose,' said Kuzela, 'I gave you a cheque which you could cash tomorrow morning——'

'Or suppose,' said the Saint calmly, 'you gave me some cash with which I could buy jujubes on my way home.'

Kuzela looked at him with a kind of admiration.

'Rumour has not lied about you, Mr. Templar,' he said. 'I imagine you will have no objection to receiving this sum in— er—foreign currency?'

'None whatever,' said the Saint blandly.

The other stood up, taking a little key from his waistcoat pocket. And the Saint, who for the moment had been looking at the delicately painted shade of the lamp that stood on one side of the desk, which was the sole dim illumination of the room, slewed round with a sudden start.

He knew that there was going to be a catch somewhere— that, with a man of Kuzela's type, a man who had sent those gloves and who had devised that extremely ingenious bell-push on the front door, a coup could never be quite so easy. How that last catch was going to be worked he had no idea; nor was he inclined to wait and learn it. In his own way, he had done as much as he had hoped to do; and, all things considered——

'Let me see that key!' he exclaimed.

Kuzela turned puzzledly.

'Really, Mr. Templar——'

'Let me see it!' repeated the Saint excitedly.

He reached over the desk and took the key out of Kuzela's hands. For a second he gazed at it; and then he raised his eyes again with a dancing devil of mischief glinting out of their blueness.

'Sorry I must be going, souls,' he said; and with one smash­ing sweep of his arm he sent the lamp flying off the desk and plunged the room into inky blackness.

Chapter VI

The phrase is neither original nor copyright, and may be performed in public without fee or licence. It remains, however, an excellent way of describing that particular phe­nomenon.

With the extinction of the single source of luminance, the darkness came down in all the drenching suddenness of an unleashed cataract of Stygian