[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Simon picked it up and shoved it into his pocket.Its great weight dragged his coat all over on one side.And at that moment all the lights in the room went on.The Saint whirled around.He looked into the single black eye of an automatic held in the hand of Baronvon Dortvenn himself.On either side of the Baron was a heavily-built,hard-faced man."So you're the Fox?" said the Baron genially.Simon thanked heaven for the handkerchief that covered his face.The twohard-faced men were advancing towards him, and one of them jingled a pair ofhandcuffs."On the contrary," said the Saint, "I'm the Bishop of Bootle and UpperTooting."He held out his wrists resignedly.For a moment the man with the handcuffs wasbetween him and the Baron's auto-matic, and the Saint took his chance.Hisleft whizzed round in a terrific hook that smacked cleanly to its mark on theside of the man's jaw, and Simon leapt on to the desk.He went through thewindow in a flying dive, somersaulted over his hands, and was on his feetagain in an instant.He sprinted across the lawn and went over the wall like a cat.A whistlescreamed into the night behind him, and he saw Peter Quentin tumble into thePage 43 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlcar as he dropped down to the pavement.Simon jumped for the Hirondel as itstreaked past, and fell over the side into the seat beside the driver."Give her the gun," he ordered briefly, "and dodge as you've never dodgedbefore.I think they'll be after us.""What happened?" asked Peter Quentin; and the Saint un-fastened thehandkerchief from his face and grinned."It looks like they were waiting for someone," he said.It took twenty minutes of brilliant driving to satisfy the Saint that theywere safe from any possible pursuit.On the way Simon took the heavy jewelledarmlet from his pocket and gazed at it lovingly under one of the dashboardlamps."That's one thing the Fox didn't put over," he said crypti-cally.He was breakfasting off bacon and eggs the next morning at eleven o'clock whenPeter Quentin walked in.Peter carried a morning paper, which he tossed intothe Saint's lap."There's something for your 'Oh, yeah?' album," he said grimly.Simon poured out a cup of coffee."What is it-some more intelligent utterances by Cabinet Ministers?""You'd better read it," said Peter."It looks as if several peo-ple mademistakes last night."Simon Templar picked up the paper and started at the dou-ble-column splash."THE FOX" CAPTUREDC.I.D.WAKES UPBRILLIANT COUP IN KENSINGTONONE OF THE CLEVEREST STRATAGEMS in the history of criminal detection achievedits object at eleven-thirty last night with the arrest of Jean-BaptisteArvaille, alleged to be the famous jewel thief known as "The Fox."Arvaille will be charged at the police court this morning with a series ofaudacious robberies totalling over S70,000.It will be told how Inspector Henderson, of Scotland Yard, assisted by a womanmember of the Special Branch, posed as "Baron von Dortvenn" and baited thetrap with a mythical "bracelet of Charlemagne" which he was stated to havebrought to England for the International Jewellery Exhibi-tion.The plot owed much of its success to the cooperation of the Press, which gavethe fullest possible publicity to the "Baron's" arrival.It was stated in this newspaper yesterday that the "bracelet of Charlemagne"was a circle of gold thickly encrusted with rubies.In actual fact it is made of lead, thinly plated with gold, and the stones init are worthless imitations.Workmen sworn to secrecy created it specially forInspector Henderson's use.Page 44 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlSimon Templar read through the whole detailed story.After which he wasspeechless for some time.And then he smiled."Oh, well," he said, "it isn't everyone who can say he's kissed a womanpoliceman."7.The Brass Buddha"HAVE another drink," said Ambrose Grange.He was a man with a lot to say, but that was his theme song.He had used it somany times during the course of that eve-ning that Simon Templar had begun towonder whether Sir Ambrose imagined he had invented a new and extraordinarilysubtle philosophy, and was patiently plugging it at intervals until hisaudience grasped the point.It bobbed up along the line of his conversationlike vitamins in a food reformer's menu.Tapping resources which seemedinexhaustible, he delved into the kit-bag of memory for reminiscences and intohis trouser pockets for the price of beer; and the Saint obliged him byabsorbing both with equal courtesy."Yes, sir," resumed Sir Ambrose, when their glasses had been refilled."Business is business.That is my motto, and it always will be.If you happento know that something is valuable, and the other fellow doesn't, you haveevery right to buy it from him at his price without disclosing your knowledge.He gets what he thinks is a fair price, you get your profit, and you're bothsatisfied
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]