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"Simon Mr. Templar mentioned that you'd once sentenced a dangerous criminal
of that name, and he said he thought the man might make an attempt on your
life."
He nodded.
"Yes, I remember Templar said as much to me the first time we met. Harry the
Duke swore from the dock that he'd get even with me. But I ve heard the same
threat several times, and I'm still alive, and it hasn't spoiled my sleep."
Patricia made her escape as soon after that as she could. She had to confess
herself utterly baffled. However Lapping had behaved earlier in the afternoon,
his response to that startling question of hers could not have been more open
or more genuine. The name of Harry the Duke conveyed nothing more to Lapping
than a crook he had sent to prison in the course of his duty she would have
given her oath for it. He had been unaffectedly taken off his guard, and yet
there had been no vestige of fear or suspicion in his puzzlement. Could a
guilty man have accomplished such a feat even if he were the most consummate
actor that was ever born?
The girl felt a crying need for Simon Templar*s superior knowledge and acuter
judgment. She was helpless beaten. But for the amusement she had detected in
Lapping's eyes, she would not have hesitated to acquit him. Even now she was
strongly impelled to do so, in the light of developments subsequent to that,
and she was casting around for some theory that would eliminate any malevolent
motive and still account satisfactorily for the indisputable fact that he had
seen at once what she had been driving at and had calmly and effectively
refused to allow himself to be inveigled into saying any more than he chose to
say.
But then the realization only came fb her with stunning conviction when she
was walking up the drive to the Manor if Lapping were blameless, then the only
person who could be the Tiger was Agatha Girton!
Chapter XIII
THE BRAND
She was aghast at the thought.
Could she have been living for months and years in the home of the Tiger? It
seemed impossible, and yet the theory seemed to get more watertight with every
second. It would account for Agatha Girton's continual absences abroad, and
the letters which came from the Riviera could easily have been fake alibis.
But in that case the trip to South Africa would have been real enough the
Tiger would naturally have gone there to look for a derelict gold mine to salt
with his plunder, as the Saint had explained. And she remembered that Agatha
Girton had been away just about the time when the Tiger had broken the
Confederate Bank.
So the Tiger was a woman! That was not outside the bounds of credibility, for
Miss Girton would have had no trouble in impersonating a man.
Patricia had to fight down her second panic that afternoon before she could
open the front door and center the house. It struck her as being unpleasantly
like walking into the Tiger's jaws as well as walking into his den or her den.
If Miss Girton were the Tiger, she would already be suspicious of Patricia's
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sudden friendship with Simon Templar; and that suspicion would have been
fortified by the girl's adventure of the previous night and her
secre-Itiveness about it. Then, if Lapping was suspect also, it would not be
long before the Tiger's fears would be confirmed, and she would be confronted
with the alternatives of making away with Patricia or chancing the girl's
power to endanger her security. And, from all Simon's accounts of the Tiger,
there seemed little doubt on which course the choice would fall.
The Tiger must be either Lapping or Miss Girton. The odds about both stared
Patricia in the face -and it looked as if Aunt Agatha won hands down.
At that moment the girl was very near to flying precipitately back to the
Pill Box and surrendering all the initiative to Simon: the thought of his
trust in her checked that instinct. She had been so stubbornly insistent on
being allowed to play her full part, so arrogantly certain of her ability to
do it justice, so impatient of his desire to keep her out of danger what would
he think of her if she ran squealing to his arms as soon as the fun looked
like becoming too fast and furious? To have accepted his offer of sanctuary
would not necessarily have lowered her in his eyes; but to have refused it so
haughtily and then to change her mind as soon as she winded the first sniff of
"battle would' be a confession of faintheartedness which he could not
overlook.
"No, Patricia Holm," she said to herself, "that's not in the book of the
rules, and never has been. You would have a taste of the soup, and now you've
fallen in you've jolly well got to swim. He wouldn't say anything, I know, and
he'd be as pleased as Punch for a day or two. But after a bit he'd begin to
think a heap. And then it'd all be over smithereened! And that being so we'll
take our medicine without blubbering, even if the jam has worn a trifle
thin.... Therefore, Patricia Holm, as our Saint would say, where do we go from
here?"
Well, she'd done all she could about Lapping, and she must wait to see what
he thought of the evidence. There remained Agatha Girton, and the Saint's
orders must be obeyed under that heading the same as under the other. Patricia
braced herself for the ordeal, and just then her hand touched something hard
in her pocket. She brought it out and took a peep at it the automatic which
Simon had given her. It was marvellously encouraging to remember that that
little toy could at the touch of her finger splutter a hail of sudden death
into any-one who tried to put over any funny business. She put it back in her
pocket and patted it affectionately.
The housekeeper, emerging from the kitchen to see who had come in, informed
her that Miss Girton had returned half an hour since, and Patricia felt her
heart pounding unevenly as she went to the drawing room. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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