to be no reason why it should not be endowed with miraculous properties before being returned to its owner. Chief Inspector Teal would surely be disappointed if it failed to perform miracles. And that could so easily be arranged. The admixture of a quantity of crushed senna pods, together with a certain amount of powdered calomel—the indicated specific in all cases of concussion....
In his own living-room, the Saint proceeded to open the packet with great care, in such a way that it could be sealed again and bear no trace of having been tampered with.
Inside, there seemed to be a second paper wrapping. He took hold of one corner of it and pulled experimentally. A complete crumpled piece of paper came out in his fingers. Below that, there was another crumpled white pad. And after that, another. It went on until the whole package was empty, and the table on which he was working was covered with those creased white scraps. But no tea came to light. He picked up one of the pieces of paper and cautiously unfolded it, in case it should be the container of an individual dose. And then suddenly he sat quite still, while his blue eyes froze into narrowed pools of electrified ice as he realized what he was looking at.
It was a Bank of England note for fifty pounds.
III
'MIRACLE TEA,' said the Saint reverently, 'is a good name for it.'
There were thirty of those notes—a total of fifteen hundred pounds in unquestionably genuine cash, legal tender and ripe for immediate circulation.
There was a light step behind him, and Patricia Holm's hand fell on his shoulder.
'I didn't know you'd come in, boy,' she said; and then she didn't go on. He felt her standing unnaturally still. After some seconds she said: 'What have you been doing— breaking into the baby's moneybox ?'
'Getting ready to write some letters,' he said. 'How do you like the new notepaper ?'
She pulled him round to face her.
'Come on,' she said. 'I like to know when you're going to be arrested. What's the charge going to be this time— burgling a bank ?'
He smiled at her.
She was easy to smile at. Hair like ripe corn in the sun, a skin like rose petals, blue eyes that could be as wicked as his own, the figure of a young nymph, and something else that could not have been captured in any picture, something in her that laughed with him in all his misdeeds.
'Tea-drinking is the charge,' he said. 'I've signed the pledge, and henceforward this will be my only beverage.'
She raised her fist.
'I'll push your face in.'
'But it's true.'
He handed her the packet from which the money had come. She sat on the table and studied every side of it. And after that she was only more helplessly perplexed.
'Go on,' she said.
He told her the story exactly as it had happened.
'And now you know just as much as I do,' he concluded. 'I haven't even had time to do any thinking on it. Maybe we needn't bother. We shall wake up soon, and everything will be quite all right.'
She put the box down again and looked at one of the notes.
