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257 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 1, 1934

The larger man bulked ponderously round the intervening table and advanced towards him. With the business-like Colt jabbing into the Saint’s middle, he made a quick and efficient search of Simon’s pockets, and found the gun which had belonged to the late lamented Joe. He tossed it back to his companion and put his own weapon away.
“Now, you,” he rasped, “what’s your name?”
“They call me Daffodil,” said the Saint exquisitely. “And what’s yours?”
The big man’s eyebrows drew together, and his eyes hardened malevolently.
“Listen, sucker,” he snarled, “you know who we are.”
“I don’t,” said the Saint calmly. “We haven’t been introduced. I tried a guess, but apparently I was wrong. You might like to tell me.”
“My name’s Kestry,” said the big man grudgingly, “and that’s Detective Bonacci. We’re from headquarters. Satisfied?”
Simon nodded.