The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

Teal's mouth flopped open, and his small blue eyes seemed to swell up in his face. The divisional inspector stared at him.

"What's the matter, sir?"

"The Ritz!" groaned Teal. "Oh, holy hollerin' Moses! The Ritz!"

He tore out of the station like a stampeding alp, leaving the D.I. gaping blankly at the space he had been occupy­ing. The back exit, a breathless sprint down Yeoman's Row, brought him to the Brompton Road, and he was fortunate enough to catch a taxi without having to wait a moment.

"The Ritz Hotel," panted Teal. "And drive like blazes. I'm a police officer."

He climbed in, with bursting lungs. He had left his sprinting days behind him long ago.

He was wide awake now—when, as he realized with disgust it was somewhat late in the day to have woken up.

A few minutes later he was interviewing the manage­ment of the Ritz. The management was anxious to be helpful, and at the same time anxious to preserve itself from any of the wrong sort of publicity. Teal was not interested in the private susceptibilities of the manage­ment. He made his inquisition coldly and efficiently, and it did not take him long to narrow the search down to just two names on the register—the charming Mr. and Mrs. Joseph M. Halliday, of Boston, Mass.

Teal inspected the small suite they had occupied, and heard from the floor waiter the story of how Mrs. Halliday had been in bed with a severe cold ever since her arrival, and how Mr. Halliday, like a truly devoted American hus­band, had never left her side. This evening was the first evening they had been out. Mrs. Halliday had felt so much better that Mr. Halliday had decided that a short spin in the country, well wrapped up in a closed car, might do her a lot of good.

"On a nice warm winter's night!" commented Teal sar­castically. "And, of course, in the dark she could enjoy the scenery! Yes, that's a very good story."

The source of information was understood to remark that such eccentricities were to be expected of wealthy Americans.

"Yes, very wealthy Americans," agreed Teal.

He picked up a small leather valise. It was empty. Further investigation showed that it was the one and only item of their property that Mr. and Mrs. Halliday had left in the suite.

"Did they take any rugs with them?" asked Teal.

"They borrowed two from the hotel, sir, for the drive."

"It's amazing what a lot of stuff you can carry under a rug," said Teal, "if you know the trick of packing it."