Harver whipped round, his fists doubling; but the automatic in the Saint's hand discouraged him. It discouraged Ganning, who was renowned for his slickness on the draw, and Flash Arne, who knew some tricks of his own; and it discouraged Matthew Keld, that violent but efficient rope expert.
"Sorry," said the Saint, without regret, "but it's a cop as George said."
Red Harver, peering savagely at him, recognized him by his voice.
"You—"
"Oh, no," said the Saint in distress. "Never. I hate sitting with my back to the engine."
He herded the four men into a convenient corner, in his briskly persuasive way, and raised his voice to Jill. Lord Essenden came through the door first, and Ganning drew in his breath sharply; but the mystery was solved when Jill Trelawney followed.
"If you'll take over," said the Saint, "I'll go and look for some more rope."
The girl nodded briefly. Her automatic, swinging in a little arc over the latitude of the five prisoners, said all that there was left to say.
Simon went swiftly through the pockets of the group, and brought back four guns, two life preservers, a knife, and a razor, which he deposited in the coal scuttle with a faint gesture of distaste.
Then he sought the kitchen, and presently came back with six fathoms of good cord.