"What is it?"

"Just a little social chatter," said Simon. "Our friend is warbling about the progress of civil aviation, and how few serious accidents there have been since light aëroplane clubs started springing up all over the country, and how everyone is taking to the air as if they'd been born with wings. Then he says: 'There are, of course, a few exceptions. Mr. Francis Lemuel, for instance, the well-known cabaret impresario, who was one of the founders of the Thames Valley Flying Club, and who was himself making rapid progress towards his "A" license, was so badly shaken by his recent crash that he has been compelled, on medical advice, to give up all idea of qualifying as a pilot.' The rest is just the usual kind of blurb about Lemuel's brilliant career as a cabaret impresario. But that is interesting-now, isn't it-to know that dear Francis was sighing for the wings of a Moth!"

"Why?"

The Saint smiled beatifically, and completed the operation of preparing the Evening Record for its last resting place.

"There are many interests in my young life," he murmured, "of which you are still in ignorance, dear lass. And little Francis is one of them-and has been for some time. But I never knew that he was a bold, bad bird-man-outside of business hours. . . . And now, old Pat, shall we dine here or push on to the Berkeley Arms?"

And that was all that was said about Francis Lemuel that night, and for ten days afterwards; for at that time, bowing before Patricia's pleading, Simon Templar was trying to lead a respectable life. And yet, knowing her man, she was a little surprised that he dropped the subject so quickly; and, knowing her man again, she heaved a little sigh of rueful resignation when he met her for lunch ten days later and showed quite plainly in his face that he was on the trail of more trouble. At those times there were a renewed effervescence about the Saint's always electric personality, and a refreshed recklessness about the laughter that was never far from the surface of his blue eyes, that were unmistakable danger signs.