The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

"What d'you mean—'come quietly'?" he asked, with childlike innocence.

"Come for a walk," said Teal. "Or, if you like, we'll take a taxi. I'm sorry to have to pull you in at this hour, but you were out when I called earlier, and if I left it till to-morrow morning you might have gone away again.

"And where are we going to take this walk—or this taxi drive?"

Mr. Teal blinked. He seemed to find it a tremendous effort to keep awake.

"Rochester Row police station."

"In Pimlico?" protested the Saint. "Not that. I'm only taken to West End police stations."

"Not Pimlico," said Teal. "Westminster."

"Worse still," said the Saint. "Members of Parlia­ment get taken there."

Mr. Teal settled his hat, which, like the traditional detective, he had not removed when he entered the flat.

"Coming?" he inquired lethargically.

"Can't," said the Saint. "Sorry,  old  dear."

"Simon Templar," said Teal, "I arrest you on a charge of——"

"Let's see it on the warrant."

"Which warrant?"

The Saint grinned.

"The warrant for my arrest," he said.

"I haven't got a warrant."

"I guessed that. And how are you going to arrest me without a warrant?"

"I can take you into custody——"

"You can't," said the Saint pleasantly. "I'm behaving myself. I'm in my own flat, just about to go to bed like any respectable citizen. There's nothing you can accuse me of. What you're doing, Teal, is to put up a very thin bluff, and I'm calling the bluff. Laugh that off."

Teal closed his eyes.

"In Paris——"

"In Paris," said Simon calmly, "I stole two hundred thousand francs from Lord Essenden. I admit it. If you like, I'll put it in writing, and you can take it home with you to show the chief commissioner. But you can't do anything about it. The hideous crime was commit­ted on French soil and it's a matter for the French police alone. I'm in England. An Englishman cannot be extradited from England. Sorry to disappoint you, I'm sure, but you shouldn't try to put things like that over on me."

"In Birmingham——"