"Get out of that car!"
"I'm damned if I will—"
"You're damned, anyway. Come out!"
He reached in, caught Weald by the collar, and jerked him out into the road with one swift heave.
"Stephen Weald, dope trafficker, blackmailer, and confidence man — so much for you!"
The Saint's hand shot out, fastened on one of the ends of Weald's immaculate bow tie, pulled… That would have been enough at any time, the simplest gesture of contemptuous challenge; but the Saint invested it with a superbly assured insolence that had to be seen to be believed. For a moment Weald seemed stupefied. Then he lashed out, white-lipped, with both fists…
The Saint picked him out of the ditch and tumbled him back into the car.
"Next?"
"If you want a fight—" began Budd; and once again the girl stopped him.
"You mustn't annoy Mr. Templar," she said witheringly. "Mr. Templar's a very brave man — with his posse waiting for him up the road."