The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

"Slinky" Dyson had squealed. Simon Templar had to admit that nothing but that happy windfall had enabled him to step so promptly upon the tail of the Angels of Doom. Slinky was pulled sin for suspicious loitering one evening, and when they searched him they found on his person a compact leather wallet containing tools which were held to be house-breaking implements within the meaning of the Act. Simon happened to be in Marlbor­ough Street police station at the time, and witnessed the discovery.

"I was waiting for a friend," said Slinky. "Honest I was."

"Honest you may have was," said the inspector heavily. "But you grew out of that years ago."

Shortly after Slinky had been locked up, he asked to speak to the inspector again, and the inspector thought the squeal sufficiently promising to fetch Teal in to hear it. And then Teal sent in the Saint.

"I told you I was waiting for a friend," said Slinky, "and that's gospel. But if you'd pulled me to-morrow ... I was going down to take a look at Lord Essenden's party. I had a tip from the Angels. You'll find the letter in my room---I put it in the Bible on the shelf over the bed. They said I was to take what I liked, how I liked, and they'd see I made a good getaway. Now, you ain't told me why I'm here, but I know. There's been a scream. I don't know why they should want to shop me, but there's been a scream. . . . An' I'd take is as a favour, sir, if you'd tell me who was the screamer."

"I don't know," said the Saint truthfully. "Maybe you talk in your sleep."

They found the letter as Slinky had said they would find it, and it was short and to the point.

And the Saint, acting upon it, went to Lord .Essenden's party unknown to Lord Essenden, and thus met Jill Tre­lawney and Stephen Weald and Pinky Budd; and what followed we know.

After the jokes of the machine gun and the milk, the Saint saw Slinky Dyson again, and was able to give some unhelpful information to that puzzled man.

"There was no scream," he said. "That is official. It was just your bad luck, Slinky."

Dyson scratched his head.

"I'll believe you, Mr. Templar. It was bad luck all right. But you'll remember my squeak, sir?"

"You were remanded for a week, weren't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Templar."

"If we let you out, will you take a job?"

"What sort of job?" asked Slinky suspiciously.

"Oh, not work," said the Saint soothingly. "I wouldn't dream of asking you to do that."

Slinky relaxed.

"I'll hear about it, Mr. Templar."

"How much do you want for a black eye?"

Slinky stared.