“Any more in the menagerie?” he enquired.
“Nope,” said the Saint laconically.
He was relighting the lamp, and the flare of the match threw his face into high relief for an instant. Carn became more thoughtful. His life had been devoted to dealing with men of all sorts and conditions. He had known many clever men, not a few dangerous men, and a number of mysterious men, but at that moment he wondered if he had ever met a man who looked more cleverly and dangerously and mysteriously competent to deal with any kind of trouble that happened to be floating around.
“I’d rather have you on my side than against me, Saint,” said Carn. “You’d get a rake-off. Think it over.”
Hands on hips, the Saint regarded the red-faced man quizzically.
“Can I take that as official?”
“Naturally not. But you can take it from me that it can be arranged on the side.”
“Thanks,” said the Saint. “I don’t feel impressed with your balance sheet. Taken by and large, the dividend don’t seem fat enough to tempt this investor. Now try this one: come in with me, and I’ll promise you one third. Think it over, Detective Inspector Carn.”
“Dr. Carn.”
The Saint smiled.