"Look in this gentleman's pockets, Mr. Goldberg. Perhaps he has some evidence of identity on him."
The clerk came over and began a search. The monocle had vanished from the Saint's right eye, and the expression on his face was anything but vacuous.
"You filthy miser!" he blazed. "I'll see that you're sorry for this. No one has ever insulted me like this for years —"
Coolly Deever leaned over the desk and smacked Simon over the mouth. The blow cut the Saint's lip.
"A crook should be careful of his tongue," Deever said.
"There's a letter here, Mr. Deever," said the clerk, laying it on the blotter. "It's addressed to Simon Templar. And I found this as well."
"This" was another large envelope, the exact replica of the one in which Simon had handed over his Latvian Bonds. Deever opened it, and found that it contained a similar set of bonds; and when he had counted them he found that they were equal in number to those which he had accepted for security.
"I see — Mr. — er — Smith." The close-set eyes gloated. "So I've been considered worthy of the attention of the famous Saint. And a very pretty swindle, too. First you borrow money on some genuine bonds; then you come back and try to borrow more money on some more genuine bonds — but when I'm not looking you exchange them for forgeries. Very neat, Mr. Templar. It's a pity that man outside recognized you. Mr. Goldberg, I think you might telephone for the police."
"You'll be sorry for this," said the Saint more calmly, with his eyes on Deever's revolver.
A police inspector arrived in a few minutes. He inspected the two envelopes, and nodded.