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.The prisoners, said the message, had put up amost audacious bluff; they were being sent to headquarters in a police car."Good!" said Teal grimly; and went through to Cannon Row Police Station tocharge the Saint with wilful murder."That's what you've got to prove," said the Saint, when the charge was readover to him."No-I won't trouble my solicitor.I shall be out in an hour.""In eight weeks you'll be dead," said the detective.He had recovered some of his old pose of agonized boredom; and half an hourlater he needed it all, for the police car arrived from Croydon as thenewspaper vans started to pour out of E.C.4, with the printers' ink stilldamp on the first news of the outrage of Tenterden.Two prisoners were hustled into Teal's office-a philosophical gentleman inflying overalls, and a very agitated gentleman with striped cashmere trousersand white spats showing under his leather coat."It is an atrrrrocity!" exploded the agitated gentleman."I vill complainmyself to ze Prime Ministair! Imbecile! Your poliss, zey say I am arrrrest-zeyinsult me-zey mock zem-selves of vat I say-zey trreat me like I vas acrriminal-me! But you shall pay--""And who are you pretending to be?" asked Teal, lethargically unwrapping afresh wafer of his favourite sweetmeat."Me? You do not know me? You do not know Boileau--"Teal did not."Take that fungus off his face," he ordered, "and let's see what he reallylooks like."Two constables had to pinion the arms of a raving maniac while a third gavethe agitated gentleman's beard a sharp tug.But the beard failed to partcompany with its foundations; and, on closer examination, it proved to be thegenuine home-grown article.Teal blinked as the agitated gentleman, released, danced in front of his desk,semaphoring with frantic arms.Page 42 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Nom d' un nom! You are not content viz insult me, you must attack me, youmust pull me ze beard! Aaaaah!"Words failed the man.He reeled against the desk, clawing at his temples.Teal ran a finger round the inside of his collar, which seemed to havesuddenly become tight.Then the philosophical gentleman in overalls spoke." 'E 'as say true, m'sieu.'E is M.Boileau, ze French Finance Minister, 'oocome ovair for confer--"Teal signed to one of the constables."Better ring up the Embassy and see if someone can come over and identifyhim," he said."Merde alors!" screamed the agitated gentleman."I vill not vait! I demand tobe release!""I'm afraid you'll have to be identified, sir," said Teal unhappily.And identified M.Boileau was, in due course, by a semi-hysterical officialfrom the Embassy; and Teal spent the most uncomfortable half-hour of his lifetrying to explain the mistake.He was a limp wreck when the indignation meeting finally broke up; and thetelephoned report of the explosives expert who had been sent down to Tenterdendid not improve Teal's temper."It was a big aërial bomb-we've found some bits of the casing.We didn't findmuch of Lemuel.""Could it have been fired by a timing device?""There's no trace of anything like that, sir.Of course, if there had been, itmight have been blown to bits.""Could it have been fired electrically?""I haven't found any wires yet, sir.My men are still digging round thewreckage.On the other hand, sir, if it comes to that, it might have beenfired by radio, and if it was radio we shan't find anything at all."Teal had his inspiration some hours too late."You'd better search the grounds," he said, and gave exact instructions."Certainly, sir.But what about the aëroplane that went over?""That," said Teal heavily, "contained the French Minister of Finance, on hisway to a reparations conference.""Well, it couldn't have been him," said the expert sagely, and Teal felt likemurder.A few days later the Saint called on Stella Dornford.He had not seen hersince the morning when he dropped her on his way to Jermyn Street, and she hadnot communicated with him in any way.Page 43 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"You must think me a little rotter," she said."It seems such a feeble excuseto say I've been too busy to think of anything--""I think it's the best excuse in the world," said the Saint.He pointed to the ring on her finger."When?""Ten days ago.I-I took your advice, you see."Simon laughed." 'To those about to marry,' " he quoted softly."Well, you must come round toa celebratory supper, and bring the Beloved.And Uncle Simon will tell you allabout married life.""Why, are you married?"He shook his head.For a moment the dancing blue eyes were quiet and wistful.And then the old mocking mirth came back to them."That's why I'll be able to tell you so much about it," he said.Presently the girl said: "I've told Dick how much we owe you.I'll neverforget it.I don't know how to thank you--"The Saint smiled, and put his hands on her shoulders."Don't you?" he said.THE WONDERFUL WARThe Republic of Pasala lies near the northward base of the Yucatan peninsulain Central America.It has an area of about 10,000 square miles, or roughlythe size of England from the Tweed to a line drawn from Liverpool to Hull.Population, about 18,000.Imports, erratic.Exports, equally erratic, andconsisting (when the population can be stirred to the necessary labour) ofmaize, rice, sugar-cane, mahogany, and-oil."You can hurry up and warble all you know about this oil, Archie," said SimonTemplar briskly, half an hour after he landed at Santa Miranda."And you canleave out your adventures among the señoritas.I want to get this settled-I'vegot a date back in England for the end of May, and that doesn't give me a lotof time here."Mr.Archibald Sheridan stirred slothfully in his long chair and took a pull ata whisky-and-soda in which ice clinked seductively."You've had it all in my letters and cables," he said."But I'll just runthrough it again to connect it up.It goes like this.Three years ago almostto the day, a Scots mining engineer named McAndrew went prospecting round thehills about fifty miles inland.Everyone said he was crazy-till he came backsix months later with samples from his feeler borings.He said he'd struck oneof the richest deposits that ever gushed- and it was only a hundred feet belowthe surface.He got a concession-chiefly because the authorities stillcouldn't believe his story-staked his claim, cabled for his daughter to comeover and join him, and settled down to feel rich and wait for the plant he'dordered to be shipped over from New Orleans [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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.The prisoners, said the message, had put up amost audacious bluff; they were being sent to headquarters in a police car."Good!" said Teal grimly; and went through to Cannon Row Police Station tocharge the Saint with wilful murder."That's what you've got to prove," said the Saint, when the charge was readover to him."No-I won't trouble my solicitor.I shall be out in an hour.""In eight weeks you'll be dead," said the detective.He had recovered some of his old pose of agonized boredom; and half an hourlater he needed it all, for the police car arrived from Croydon as thenewspaper vans started to pour out of E.C.4, with the printers' ink stilldamp on the first news of the outrage of Tenterden.Two prisoners were hustled into Teal's office-a philosophical gentleman inflying overalls, and a very agitated gentleman with striped cashmere trousersand white spats showing under his leather coat."It is an atrrrrocity!" exploded the agitated gentleman."I vill complainmyself to ze Prime Ministair! Imbecile! Your poliss, zey say I am arrrrest-zeyinsult me-zey mock zem-selves of vat I say-zey trreat me like I vas acrriminal-me! But you shall pay--""And who are you pretending to be?" asked Teal, lethargically unwrapping afresh wafer of his favourite sweetmeat."Me? You do not know me? You do not know Boileau--"Teal did not."Take that fungus off his face," he ordered, "and let's see what he reallylooks like."Two constables had to pinion the arms of a raving maniac while a third gavethe agitated gentleman's beard a sharp tug.But the beard failed to partcompany with its foundations; and, on closer examination, it proved to be thegenuine home-grown article.Teal blinked as the agitated gentleman, released, danced in front of his desk,semaphoring with frantic arms.Page 42 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Nom d' un nom! You are not content viz insult me, you must attack me, youmust pull me ze beard! Aaaaah!"Words failed the man.He reeled against the desk, clawing at his temples.Teal ran a finger round the inside of his collar, which seemed to havesuddenly become tight.Then the philosophical gentleman in overalls spoke." 'E 'as say true, m'sieu.'E is M.Boileau, ze French Finance Minister, 'oocome ovair for confer--"Teal signed to one of the constables."Better ring up the Embassy and see if someone can come over and identifyhim," he said."Merde alors!" screamed the agitated gentleman."I vill not vait! I demand tobe release!""I'm afraid you'll have to be identified, sir," said Teal unhappily.And identified M.Boileau was, in due course, by a semi-hysterical officialfrom the Embassy; and Teal spent the most uncomfortable half-hour of his lifetrying to explain the mistake.He was a limp wreck when the indignation meeting finally broke up; and thetelephoned report of the explosives expert who had been sent down to Tenterdendid not improve Teal's temper."It was a big aërial bomb-we've found some bits of the casing.We didn't findmuch of Lemuel.""Could it have been fired by a timing device?""There's no trace of anything like that, sir.Of course, if there had been, itmight have been blown to bits.""Could it have been fired electrically?""I haven't found any wires yet, sir.My men are still digging round thewreckage.On the other hand, sir, if it comes to that, it might have beenfired by radio, and if it was radio we shan't find anything at all."Teal had his inspiration some hours too late."You'd better search the grounds," he said, and gave exact instructions."Certainly, sir.But what about the aëroplane that went over?""That," said Teal heavily, "contained the French Minister of Finance, on hisway to a reparations conference.""Well, it couldn't have been him," said the expert sagely, and Teal felt likemurder.A few days later the Saint called on Stella Dornford.He had not seen hersince the morning when he dropped her on his way to Jermyn Street, and she hadnot communicated with him in any way.Page 43 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"You must think me a little rotter," she said."It seems such a feeble excuseto say I've been too busy to think of anything--""I think it's the best excuse in the world," said the Saint.He pointed to the ring on her finger."When?""Ten days ago.I-I took your advice, you see."Simon laughed." 'To those about to marry,' " he quoted softly."Well, you must come round toa celebratory supper, and bring the Beloved.And Uncle Simon will tell you allabout married life.""Why, are you married?"He shook his head.For a moment the dancing blue eyes were quiet and wistful.And then the old mocking mirth came back to them."That's why I'll be able to tell you so much about it," he said.Presently the girl said: "I've told Dick how much we owe you.I'll neverforget it.I don't know how to thank you--"The Saint smiled, and put his hands on her shoulders."Don't you?" he said.THE WONDERFUL WARThe Republic of Pasala lies near the northward base of the Yucatan peninsulain Central America.It has an area of about 10,000 square miles, or roughlythe size of England from the Tweed to a line drawn from Liverpool to Hull.Population, about 18,000.Imports, erratic.Exports, equally erratic, andconsisting (when the population can be stirred to the necessary labour) ofmaize, rice, sugar-cane, mahogany, and-oil."You can hurry up and warble all you know about this oil, Archie," said SimonTemplar briskly, half an hour after he landed at Santa Miranda."And you canleave out your adventures among the señoritas.I want to get this settled-I'vegot a date back in England for the end of May, and that doesn't give me a lotof time here."Mr.Archibald Sheridan stirred slothfully in his long chair and took a pull ata whisky-and-soda in which ice clinked seductively."You've had it all in my letters and cables," he said."But I'll just runthrough it again to connect it up.It goes like this.Three years ago almostto the day, a Scots mining engineer named McAndrew went prospecting round thehills about fifty miles inland.Everyone said he was crazy-till he came backsix months later with samples from his feeler borings.He said he'd struck oneof the richest deposits that ever gushed- and it was only a hundred feet belowthe surface.He got a concession-chiefly because the authorities stillcouldn't believe his story-staked his claim, cabled for his daughter to comeover and join him, and settled down to feel rich and wait for the plant he'dordered to be shipped over from New Orleans [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]