"I guess they can take care of the situation," he admitted. "As a matter of fact, there must be very few situations in which those two goons couldn't take care of themselves."
"I expect they can keep out of trouble," Fernack agreed with ponderous deference. "But what are they supposed to hold Varetti and Walsh for?"
"I don't know what technical charge would be the worst they'd settle for," said the Saint, "but if they can't work out a good one on the spot, they must have slipped a lot since I met them. And anyhow, I'm sure they'll be able to do some great detecting in a back room with a rubber hose. Or has this priority business got-ten so tough that you can't even buy your laboratory equipment any more?"
The receiver seemed to grow hot against his ear.
"You can be funny about that some other time," Fernack grunted. "But I'm telling you, Templar, if this turns out to be mother of your—"
"Henry," said the Saint patiently, "I haven't got much more time to waste. And if you're just trying to keep me here until your flying squad arrives, don't say I didn't warn you."
"I haven't got any flying squad out after you."
"Then why did you call me?"
"I just wanted to find out if you'd been back; and when they put you on the wire—"
"Your little heart had kittens. Now cancel the prowl car and carry on. I've got a job to do."