The Saint's Getaway

on; and Monty Hayward gazed at the trophies on his lap and appeared to sigh.

'You don't mean to say these are her clothes?' he croaked, and felt that the difficulty of making himself heard robbed the utterance of much of its delicacy.

'I'm afraid they are,' answered the Saint, with similar emo­tions. 'And her girl friend's as well. You see, she wasn't using them. . . . And Greta was divine, Monty. It'd be worth taking up this Freikorperkultur just on the chance of meeting her again.'

Another three miles nearer Treuchtlingen, when he decided that they were temporarily safe from any immediate pursuit, he braked the lorry again beside a small spinney and hopped out. The road was clear; and he threw back the tarpaulins and lifted Patricia down to the grass verge. Nina Walden followed her unconcernedly, and the Saint reclaimed his booty and dumped it into Patricia's hands.

'You two are going to be a couple of Wandervogel with great open faces,' he said. 'Take this stuff into the jungle and get on with it. The things you're wearing will go in the ruck­sacks. And don't carry on as if you were dressing to go to a dance—we can't stay here more than a week.'

His lady stared suspiciously at the collection of garments which he had thrust upon her.

'But where did you get these things from?' she demanded; and Simon propelled her towards the coppice with a laugh.

'Now don't waste time asking indiscreet questions. I found them lying in a field, and the actress never told the bishop a smoother one than that.'

He paced up and down beside the lorry, smoking a ciga­rette, while he waited for the girls to return. An open touring car jolted past with its springs labouring under the avoirdupois of a healthy Prussian commercial traveller and his Frau, but beyond that the prospect had no reason to complain that only man was vile. It was an almost miraculous stroke of for­tune for the Saint, and he rendered thanks accordingly. The accident which had enabled him to misdirect the pursuit had been a bonanza in itself: it meant that the plight of the truck's crew might not be discovered for several hours, and meantime the hue and cry would be spreading away at right angles to the course he was taking. The last place in which any policeman would expect to see him was Treuchtlingen—the very town from which the alarm had emanated. The hunt would be de­ploying westward to intercept him at the French frontier, but Simon Templar was not going that way.

His cigarette had still half an inch to go when Patricia Holm emerged from the spinney and presented herself for his inspection.

'If we've got the rest of a week to spare,' she said blandly, 'I think I might have a smoke too.'

Simon offered his packet. She had put on a brief leather skirt and a plain cotton jumper, and her legs were bare to the rawhide sandals. Her nose was definitely shiny, and the fair hair was pushed carelessly back from her forehead as if the wind had been rumpling it all day. She had even remembered to take off her gold wrist watch; and the Saint noted that touch with a slow smile of appreciation.

'There isn't much more I can teach you, old Pat,' he said.

Nina Walden joined them a few moments later, and her garb was much the same. Simon showed her how to adjust the rucksack; and then he took her in his arms and kissed her heartily. For at least three seconds she was too thunderstruck to move, and then her voice returned.

'Are you getting fresh?' she demanded huskily; and Simon Templar laughed.

'I was just taking off some of your lipstick, darling. It's not being worn on great open faces these days, and it seemed a shame to mess up your hankie.'

He whirled expeditiously up to the cockpit and sat on the edge of it to give his orders, leaning over with one forearm on his knee and his eyes dancing.

'You two'll have to make it on foot from here—it's under seven kilometres by the milestones, and you couldn't have a better day for a walk. Besides which, this lorry alibi mayn't last forever, and we don't all need to ride in one basket with the eggs. Go into Treuchtlingen and look for the station. Pat goes into the nearest Konditorei and buys herself a cup of chocolate to pass the time; Nina, you shunt into the Bahnhof and take a return ticket to Ansbach. Slide through the door marked Damen and make yourself at home. Change back into your ordinary clothes, wrap the other things into a parcel with some brown paper which you'll