Free Alias the Saint by Leslie Charteris, David Case Page B

revelation made his hair curl. “Up-to-date piracy,” he had diagnosed without revving his brain up to any point where it would have been liable to seize, but that the subject of the piracy should be such a colossal sum, in the shape of such an easily negotiable metal, was a factor of which he had never dreamed.
    And then he laughed.
    “There’s nothing much for you to know, old dear,” he drawled. “It’s only that the Professor has arranged to lift that little flock of ingots on the way.”
    Duncarry revolved his long-nosed face towards the Saint, and inhaled sibilantly.
    “What’s that?” he demanded.
    “Exactly what I told you,” murmured Simon, and passed on what he had seen and what he had overheard.
    Now that he had all the threads in his hands, this did not take him long. Mysteries are long and complicated, but facts are always plain and to the point.
    “The Professor has a few million cubic feet of compressed poison gas in his heavy luggage for the benefit of the strong-room guards. I’ll bet any money he also has a cabin in a good strategic position for conferring the same benefit. There is also a quantity of tear gas to deal with minor disturbances. That’s what they were manufacturing when I butted in—I got a whiff of it, and the mystery literally made me burst into tears. Crantor will come up in the ship we saw to take off the boodle. I can guess that, though I can’t tell you how it’s going to be arranged.”
    “And what do we do about it?” asked Duncarry, and the Saint grimaced.
    “That depends upon the efficacy
    If anything can be deduced from subsequent events, Duncarry was no mean intercessor. Or perhaps the Saint’s magnificent luck was working overtime. At least it is a simple fact that they covered the eighty-five miles to Gloucester without a mishap, though it took them nearly five hours.
    It was three o’clock on the Wednesday morning when the Saint entered the police station in Gloucester, and by some means best known to himself succeeded in so startling the sleepy night shift that they allowed him to use the official telephone for a call to Chief Inspector Teal’s private address.
    And the means by which he convinced Chief Inspector Teal that he was not trying to be funny may also never be known. But he passed on Teal’s parting words to Duncarry verbatim.
    “Leave this end to me,” Teal had said, and for once in his life his voice was not at all drowsy. “I’ll get through to the police at Portsmouth and tell them to be looking out for you; and after that I’ll get on to the Admiralty, and make sure that they’ll have everything ready for you when you arrive. You’ll see the thing through yourself—it’s hopelessly illegal, but I’m afraid you’ve earned the job.”
    “Does that mean we’re temporary policemen?” inquired Duncarry, when the speech had been reported; and Simon Templar nodded.
    “I guess it does.”
    A constable had already been sent round to waken the owner of the biggest local garage and commandeer the fastest car in stock, and at that moment a huge Bentley roared up and stopped outside the station. Simon took the wheel, and Dun-carry settled in beside him.
    They were well on their way before the American voiced his opinion of the whole affair.
    “This is a great day for a couple of outlaws,” he remarked; and the Saint, remembering the almost grovelling farewell of the Gloucester police station personnel, could not find it in him to disagree.
    11
    Passengers on the Megantic who were up early for breakfast that morning were interested to see the low lean shape of a destroyer speeding towards them. As the destroyer came nearer, a string of flags broke out from the mast, and then the passengers were amazed and fluttered, for the Megantic suddenly began to slow up.
    The destroyer also hove to, and a boat put out from its side and rowed towards the Megantic.
    Betty Tregarth was one of the early risers who crowded to the side to watch the two