“Lapping knew all about me, of course,” he said. “And I told him all about how the Saint was trying to cut me out. I expect he thought you were having a dab at pumping him for the Saint’s benefit.”
The Saint did not consider himself bound to say anything about Harry the Duke. Before he let Harry go back to the past of Agatha Girton, he had warned him about the dangers of private feuds, and Harry had seen reason—the Saint had a means to control him.
“You can tell Lapping that Harry the Duke has decided to forgive him,” he said enigmatically.
Carn was mystified, but Simon let him be puzzled, and passed on.
“Now we’re all satisfied,” murmured Simon. “You’ve got the villains of the piece to take home with you, and I’ve got the gold.”
Carn goggled.
“I’d forgotten that—I was so worried about you and the Tiger,” he said, and the Saint chuckled.
“I hadn’t forgotten it. I waited to start any ructions until they’d got it all aboard for me—I couldn’t bear to think of all my work being wasted.” The Saint looked steadily at the detective. “Shall we cry quits, Carn? You know I’m straight, and I want to work this hooker across to New York and return the ducats to the Confederate Bank’s agents and collect my reward. It’ll just make enough for me to retire on comfortably, and you get all the kudos out of the affair for nabbing the Tiger. Is that a bet?”
Carn held out his hand, and they both smiled.
“Miss Holm goes with you, I suppose?”