His right eye was still disfigured by a swollen black-and-blue bruise. Mr. Dyson, thinking it over subsequently, had decided that ten pounds was an inadequate compensation for the injury, but it was too late to reopen that discussion.
"They sent for me yesterday," he said. "I went at once, and they gave me a very good welcome."
"Did you drink it?" asked the Saint interestedly.
"They've definitely taken me on."
"And the news?"
"It was like this…"
Simon listened to a long recital which told him nothing at all of any value, and departed a pound poorer than he had been when he came. It was the highest value he could place upon Mr. Dyson's first budget of information, and Slinky's aggrieved pleading made no impression upon the Saint at all."
He got back to the Yard to hear some real news.
"Your Angels have been out again while you weren't watching them," said Cullis, as soon as the Saint had answered his summons. "Essenden was beaten up last night."
"Badly?"