The Saint Meets His Match

by Charteris Leslie

"Possibly," said the Saint in his modest way. "But this time the police of Birmingham aren't concerned."

"Then who's going to take him?"

Simon smoothed his hair.

"I am."

Pinky Budd chuckled throatily.

"Not 'arf, you ain't!"

"Not 'arf, I ain't," agreed the Saint courteously.

"May I ask," said the girl, "how you think you're going to Birmingham?"

"By train."

"After you leave here?"