"I don't want to hustle you," said the Saint easily, "but if you've nothing else to do at the moment—"
Dyson swallowed.
"If Budd comes back and catches me at this I'm a goner," he said.
He had opened a murderous-looking jackknife, and Simon felt the ropes loosen about his arms and legs as Dyson slashed clumsily at them. Then, beyond the sound of Dyson's laboured breathing, he heard Budd coming back. Slinky gave a little grunt of panic.
"You'll see I'm all right, Mr. Templar, won't you?"
"Sure," said the Saint.
He stood up and swiftly untwisted the loose cords that held him and dropped them on the floor.
Pinky Budd saw him standing up free beside the table, and very carefully he put down the tray he was carrying.
"So that's the idea!" breathed Budd.
"It is," said the Saint gently. "And now we're going to have a fight, aren't we?"