"Shut the door, Raddon," he said tensely. "Your gun in his back keep, und if he a muscle moves, shoot."
"Well done, slug," approved the Saint. "You sound exactly like Dennis the Dachshund."
"So, Mr Saint, your cleverness iss not so hot, yes?" Zeidelmann's voice came in a throaty purr. "There are things that even you do not know — you who knows so much about slugs. You do not know that I haf a code with Raddon for use on the telephone. 'Tomorrow' means 'today', und 'today' means 'tomorrow.' 'Yes' means 'no', und 'no' means 'yes.' Ve are careful, yes?"
"No," said the Saint. "Or should that be 'yes'? It sounds like a silly game to me. Don't you ever get muddled?"
The pressure on his spine increased.
"You talk too much," Raddon said curtly. "Take your gun out of your pocket and put it on the desk."
The Saint's eyes were twinkling blue icicles.
"Talking about guns, where did you get this one from?" he enquired. "I took one rod from you, and I've got it in my pocket at this very moment. Guns aren't so easy to pick up in London. I believe you're bluffing, Andy."
"You drivelling fool!" grated Raddon. "Do as I tell you."
There was more than impatience and exasperation in his voice. It was just a little too sharp to be convincing. Simon Templar laughed almost inaudibly and took the chance that he had to take.