Weald spoke behind him.
"We're listening, Templar. Don't move too suddenly, because I might think you were going to put up a fight."
The Saint turned slowly and glanced down at the gun in Weald's hand.
"Oh, that! Wonderful how science helps you boys all along the line. And a silencer, too. Do you know, I always thought those things were only used in stories written for little boys?"
"It's good enough for me."
"I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be too good for you," said the Saint. "Except, perhaps, a really mutinous sewer." Then he turned round again. "Do you know a man named Donnell, Jill?"
"Very well."
"Then you'd better go ring him up and tell him goodbye. He's going to Dartmoor for a long holiday, and he mightn't remember you when he comes out."
She laughed.
"The police in Birmingham have been saying things like that about Harry Donnell for the last two years, and they've never taken him."