The Saint Meets His Match

by Charteris Leslie

Teal's lower jaw ruminated rhythmically.

"Yes," he said, "some of it was in Paris."

Simon leaned against the mantelpiece with a little twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Well?"

"In Paris," said Teal, "you doped Lord Essenden and took a couple of hundred thousand francs off him. Before that, while acting as a police officer, you abandoned your duty and connived at the escape of a woman who's wanted for murder. You can't go on doing that sort of thing, Saint, I'm afraid I shall have to bother you again."

"Well?"

The detective's shoulders moved in a ponderous shrug.

"The best thing about you, Templar," he said, "is that you always come quietly."

Simon fingered his chin.

"What d'you mean — 'come quietly'?" he asked, with childlike innocence.