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.Everything's ready.And now I want to know why we everbothered."Simon shrugged."Hilloran's name is bad enough, and she's made more money-""Why do they call her 'Straight' Audrey?""Because she's never touched or dealt in dope, which is considered eccentricin a woman crook.And because it's said to be unhealthy to get fresh with her.Apart from that, she's dabbled in pretty well everything-"Dicky nodded helplessly."I know, old man," he said."I know it all.You'regoing to say that she and Hilloran, to us, were just a pair of crooks who'dmade so much out of the game that we decided to make them contribute.We'dnever met her.And it isn't as if she were a man-""And yet," said the Saint, "I remember a woman whom you wanted to kill.And Iexpect you'd have done it, if she hadn't died of her own accord.""She was a-""Quite.But you'd've treated her exactly the same as you'd've treated a manPage 57 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlengaged in the same traffic.""There's nothing like that about Audrey Perowne.""You're trying to argue that she's really hardly more of a crook than we are.Her crime record's pretty clean, and the man she's robbed could afford tolose.""Isn't that so?"Simon studied his cigarette-end."Once upon a time," he observed, "there was arich man named John L.Morganheim.He died at Palm Beach- mysteriously.AndAudrey Perowne was-er- keeping him company.You understand? It had to behushed up, of course.His family couldn't have a scandal.Still-"Tremayne went pale."We don't know the whole of that story," he said."We don't," admitted the Saint."We only know certain facts.And they mayn'tbe such thundering good facts, anyhow.But they're there-till we knowsomething better." He got to his feet and laid a hand on Dicky's shoulder."Let's have some straight talk, Dicky," he suggested."You're beginning tofeel you can't go through with the job.Am I right?"Tremayne spread out his hands."That's about the strength of it.We've got tobe sure-""Let's be sure, then," agreed the Saint."But meanwhile, what's the harm incarrying on? You can't object to the thrashing of Farrast.You can't feel cutup about the shopping of Handers.And you can't mind what sort of a rise wetake out of Hilloran.What we do about the girl can be decided later- whenwe're sure.Till then, where's the point in chucking in your hand?"Tremayne looked at him."There's sense in that.""Of course there's sense in it!" cried the Saint."There's more in the gangthan one girl.We want the rest.We want them like I want the mug of beeryou're going to fetch me in a minute.Why shouldn't we have 'em?"--Dicky nodded slowly."I knew you'd say that.But I felt you ought to know."Simon clapped him on the back."You're a great lad," he said."And now, whatabout that beer?" Beer was brought and tasted with a fitting rever-ence.Thediscussion was closed.With the Saint, momentous things could be brought up, argued, and dismissedlike that.With Roger Conway, perhaps, the argument would have been pursuedall night-but that was only because Roger and the Saint loved arguing.Dickywas re-served.Rarely did he throw off his reserve and talk long andseriously.The Saint understood, and re-spected his reticence.Dickyunderstood also.By passing on so light-heartedly to a cry for beer, the Saintdid not lose one iota of the effect of sympathy; rather, he showed that hissympathy was complete.Dicky could have asked for nothing more; and when he put down his tankard andhelped himself to a cigarette, the discussion might never have raised its headbetween them."To resume," he said, "we leave on the twenty-ninth."Simon glanced at the calendar on the wall."Three days," he murmured."And thecargo of bil-lionaires?"Page 58 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Complete." Dicky grinned."Saint, you've got to hand it to that girl.Sevenof 'em-with their wives.Of course, she's spent a year dry-nursing them.SirEsdras Levy-George Y.Ulrig-Matthew Sankin-" He named four others whose namescould be conjured with in the world of high finance."It's a peach of anidea.""I can't think of anything like it," said the Saint."Seven bloatedperambulating gold-mines with diamond studs, and their wives loaded up withenough jewelry to sink a battleship.She gets them off on the rollingwave-knowing they'll have all their sparklers ready to make a show at theports they touch-on a motor yacht manned by her own crew-""Chief Steward, J.Hilloran-""And the first thing the world'll know if it will be when the cargo is foundmarooned on the Barbary coast, and the Corsican Maid has sailed off into theblue with the whichnots.Oh, boy! As a philosophic student, I call that theelephant's ton-sils."Dicky nodded."The day after to-morrow," he said, "we leave by special trainto join the yacht at Marseilles.You've got to say that girl does her jobs instyle.""How do you go?""As her secretary.But-how do you go?""I haven't quite made up my mind yet.Roger's taking a holiday-I guess hedeserves it.Norman and Pat are still cruising the Mediterranean.I'll handlethis one from the outside alone.I leave the inside to you-and that's the mostimportant part.""I mayn't be able to see you again before we leave.""Then you'll have to take a chance.But I think I shall also be somewhere onthe ocean.If you have to communicate, signal in Morse out of a porthole, withan electric torch, either at midnight or four in the morning.I'll be on thelook-out at those times.If."They talked for two hours before Tremayne rose to go.He did so at last."It'sthe first real job I've had," he said."I'd like to make it a good one.Wishme luck, Saint!"Simon held out his hand."Sure-you'll pull it off, Dicky.All the best, son [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Everything's ready.And now I want to know why we everbothered."Simon shrugged."Hilloran's name is bad enough, and she's made more money-""Why do they call her 'Straight' Audrey?""Because she's never touched or dealt in dope, which is considered eccentricin a woman crook.And because it's said to be unhealthy to get fresh with her.Apart from that, she's dabbled in pretty well everything-"Dicky nodded helplessly."I know, old man," he said."I know it all.You'regoing to say that she and Hilloran, to us, were just a pair of crooks who'dmade so much out of the game that we decided to make them contribute.We'dnever met her.And it isn't as if she were a man-""And yet," said the Saint, "I remember a woman whom you wanted to kill.And Iexpect you'd have done it, if she hadn't died of her own accord.""She was a-""Quite.But you'd've treated her exactly the same as you'd've treated a manPage 57 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlengaged in the same traffic.""There's nothing like that about Audrey Perowne.""You're trying to argue that she's really hardly more of a crook than we are.Her crime record's pretty clean, and the man she's robbed could afford tolose.""Isn't that so?"Simon studied his cigarette-end."Once upon a time," he observed, "there was arich man named John L.Morganheim.He died at Palm Beach- mysteriously.AndAudrey Perowne was-er- keeping him company.You understand? It had to behushed up, of course.His family couldn't have a scandal.Still-"Tremayne went pale."We don't know the whole of that story," he said."We don't," admitted the Saint."We only know certain facts.And they mayn'tbe such thundering good facts, anyhow.But they're there-till we knowsomething better." He got to his feet and laid a hand on Dicky's shoulder."Let's have some straight talk, Dicky," he suggested."You're beginning tofeel you can't go through with the job.Am I right?"Tremayne spread out his hands."That's about the strength of it.We've got tobe sure-""Let's be sure, then," agreed the Saint."But meanwhile, what's the harm incarrying on? You can't object to the thrashing of Farrast.You can't feel cutup about the shopping of Handers.And you can't mind what sort of a rise wetake out of Hilloran.What we do about the girl can be decided later- whenwe're sure.Till then, where's the point in chucking in your hand?"Tremayne looked at him."There's sense in that.""Of course there's sense in it!" cried the Saint."There's more in the gangthan one girl.We want the rest.We want them like I want the mug of beeryou're going to fetch me in a minute.Why shouldn't we have 'em?"--Dicky nodded slowly."I knew you'd say that.But I felt you ought to know."Simon clapped him on the back."You're a great lad," he said."And now, whatabout that beer?" Beer was brought and tasted with a fitting rever-ence.Thediscussion was closed.With the Saint, momentous things could be brought up, argued, and dismissedlike that.With Roger Conway, perhaps, the argument would have been pursuedall night-but that was only because Roger and the Saint loved arguing.Dickywas re-served.Rarely did he throw off his reserve and talk long andseriously.The Saint understood, and re-spected his reticence.Dickyunderstood also.By passing on so light-heartedly to a cry for beer, the Saintdid not lose one iota of the effect of sympathy; rather, he showed that hissympathy was complete.Dicky could have asked for nothing more; and when he put down his tankard andhelped himself to a cigarette, the discussion might never have raised its headbetween them."To resume," he said, "we leave on the twenty-ninth."Simon glanced at the calendar on the wall."Three days," he murmured."And thecargo of bil-lionaires?"Page 58 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Complete." Dicky grinned."Saint, you've got to hand it to that girl.Sevenof 'em-with their wives.Of course, she's spent a year dry-nursing them.SirEsdras Levy-George Y.Ulrig-Matthew Sankin-" He named four others whose namescould be conjured with in the world of high finance."It's a peach of anidea.""I can't think of anything like it," said the Saint."Seven bloatedperambulating gold-mines with diamond studs, and their wives loaded up withenough jewelry to sink a battleship.She gets them off on the rollingwave-knowing they'll have all their sparklers ready to make a show at theports they touch-on a motor yacht manned by her own crew-""Chief Steward, J.Hilloran-""And the first thing the world'll know if it will be when the cargo is foundmarooned on the Barbary coast, and the Corsican Maid has sailed off into theblue with the whichnots.Oh, boy! As a philosophic student, I call that theelephant's ton-sils."Dicky nodded."The day after to-morrow," he said, "we leave by special trainto join the yacht at Marseilles.You've got to say that girl does her jobs instyle.""How do you go?""As her secretary.But-how do you go?""I haven't quite made up my mind yet.Roger's taking a holiday-I guess hedeserves it.Norman and Pat are still cruising the Mediterranean.I'll handlethis one from the outside alone.I leave the inside to you-and that's the mostimportant part.""I mayn't be able to see you again before we leave.""Then you'll have to take a chance.But I think I shall also be somewhere onthe ocean.If you have to communicate, signal in Morse out of a porthole, withan electric torch, either at midnight or four in the morning.I'll be on thelook-out at those times.If."They talked for two hours before Tremayne rose to go.He did so at last."It'sthe first real job I've had," he said."I'd like to make it a good one.Wishme luck, Saint!"Simon held out his hand."Sure-you'll pull it off, Dicky.All the best, son [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]