The Saint and Mr. Teal: Formerly Called "Once More the Saint"

The Saint and Mr. Teal: Formerly Called "Once More the Saint" Read Free

Book: The Saint and Mr. Teal: Formerly Called "Once More the Saint" Read Free
Author: Leslie Charteris
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fact, old porpoise,” said the Saint, “I came back for some cigarettes. You can’t buy my favourite brand in France, and if you’ve ever endured a week of Marylands- “
    Teal took a seat on the bunk.
    “You left England in rather a hurry two months ago, didn’t you?”
    “I suppose I did,” admitted the Saint reflectively. “You see, I felt like having a good bust, and you know what I am. Impetuous. I just upped and went.”
    “It’s a pity you didn’t stay.”
    The Saint’s blue eyes gazed out banteringly from under dark level brows.
    “Teal, is that kind? If you want to know, I was expecting a better reception than this. I was only thinking just now how upset my solicitor would be when he heard about it. Poor old chap-he’s awfully sensitive about these things. When one of his respectable and valued clients comes home to his native land, and he isn’t allowed to move two hundred yards into the interior before some flat-footed hick cop is lugging him off to the hoosegow for no earthly reason—”
    “Now you listen to me for a minute,” Teal cut in bluntly. “I didn’t come here to swap any funny talk of that sort with you. I came down to tell you how the Yard thinks you’d better behave now you’re home. You’re going loose as soon as I’ve finished with you, but if you want to stay loose you’ll take a word of advice.”
    “Shall I?”
    “That’s up to you.” The detective was plunging into his big speech half an hour before it was due, but he was going to get it through intact if it was the last thing he ever did. It was an amazing thing that even after the two months of comparative calm which he had enjoyed since the Saint left England, the gall of many defeats was as bitter on his tongue as it had ever been before. Perhaps he had a clairvoyant glimpse of the future, born out of the deepest darkness of his subconscious mind, which told him that he might as well have lectured a sun spot about its pernicious influence on the weather. The bland smiling composure of that lean figure opposite him was fraying the edges of his nerves with all the accumulated armoury of old associations. “I’m not suggesting,” Teal said tersely. “I’m prophesying.”
    The Saint acknowledged his authority with the faintest possible flicker of one eyebrow-and yet the sardonic mockery of that minute gesture was indescribable.
    “Yeah?”
    “I’m telling you to watch your step. We’ve put up with a good deal from you in the past. You’ve been lucky. You even earned a free pardon, once. Anyone would have thought you’d have been content to retire gracefully after that. You had your own ideas. But a piece of luck like that doesn’t come twice in any man’s lifetime. You’d made things hot enough for yourself when you went away, and you needn’t think they’ve cooled off just because you took a short holiday. I’m not saying they mightn’t cool off a bit if you took a long one. We aren’t out for any more trouble.”
    “Happy days,” drawled the Saint, “are here again. Teal, in another minute you’ll have me crying.”
    “You shouldn’t have much to cry about,” said the detective aggressively. “There’s some excuse for the sneak thief who goes on pulling five-pound jobs. He hasn’t a chance to retire. You ought to have made a pretty good pile by this time —”
    “About a quarter of a million,” said the Saint modestly. “I admit it sounds a lot, but look at Rockefeller. He could spend that much every day.”
    “You’ve had a good run. I won’t complain about it. You’ve done me some good turns on your way, and the commissioner is willing to set that in your favour. Why not give the game a rest ?”
    The bantering blue eyes were surveying Teal steadily all the time he was speaking. Their expression was almost seraphic in its innocence-only the most captious critic, or the most overwrought inferiority complex, could have found anything to complain about in their elaborate sobriety.

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