The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

"For my own reasons," said the commissioner. "He was, perhaps, something more than an ordinary crook when he came to me, and I was able to believe him when I shouldn't have believed anyone else in his place. Even you should admit that the Saint has a certain repu­tation. There was a warrant out for his arrest at the time." The commissioner's lips twitched. "It was one of many that have been wasted on him. But he placed himself unreservedly in my hands, and it seems as if the result has justified us."

Cullis looked around him, and saw that Simon Tem­plar also held a gun; and Jill Trelawney was sitting up on the sofa, mopping at her blouse with a handkerchief.

"Only red ink," explained the Saint sweetly.

Cullis stood like a man carved in stone.

And then he nodded slowly, and the ghost of a smile twitched at his mouth.     

"I needn't bother to deny anything," he said quietly. "It's all quite clear. But it was a clever piece of work on your part to get the story from my own mouth as you have done."

He looked the chief commissioner in the eyes.