graceful figure ofMadame Grandier.

He hastened his pace a little and caught

her up. He said:

"This accident to the funicular, it is

distressing. I hope, Madame, that it has

not inconvenienced you ?"

She said:

"It is a matter of indifference to me."

Her voice was very deep --a full contralto.

She did not look at Poirot. She

i57

swerved aside and went into the hotel by a

small side door.

V

Hercule Poirot went to bed early. He was

awakened some time after midnight.

Someone was fumbling with the lock

of the door.

He sat up, putting on the light. At the

same moment the lock yielded to manipulation

and the door swung open. Three

men stood there, the three card-playing

men. They were, Poirot thought, slightly

drunk. Their faces were foolish and yet

malevolent. He saw the gleam of a razor

blade.

The big thickset man advanced. He

spoke in a growling voice.

"Sacred pig of a detective! Bah p?

He burst into a torrent of profanity.

The three of them advanced purposefully

on the defenceless man in the bed.

"We'll carve him up, boys. Eh, little

horses? We'll slash Monsieur Detective's

face open for him. He won't be the first

one tonight."

They came on, steady, purposeful-the razor blades flashed.... 158

And then, startling in its crisp transatlantic

tones, a voice said:

"Stick'em up."

They swerved round. Schwartz, dressed

in a peculiarly vivid set of striped pyjamas

stood in the doorway. In his hand he held

an automatic.

"Stick 'em up, guys. I'm pretty good at

shooting."

He pressed the trigger--and a bullet

sang past the big man's ear and buried

itself in the woodwork of the window.

Three pairs of hands were raised rapidly.

Schwartz said: "Can I trouble you, M.

Poirier ?"

Hercule Poirot was out of bed in a flash.

He collected the gleaming weapons and

passed his hands over the three men's

bodies to make sure they were not armed.

Schwartz said:

"Now then, march! There's a big cupboard

just along the corridor. No window in

it. Just the thing.3a

He marched them into it and turned

the key on them. He swung round to

Poirot, his voice breaking with pleasurable

emotion.

"If that doesn't just show ? Do you know,

B» 159

M. Poirier, there were folks in Fountain

Springs who laughed at me because I said

I was going to take a gun abroad with me. 'Where do you think you're going ?' they asked. 'Into the jungle?' Well, sir. I'd

say the laugh is with me. Did you ever see

such an ugly bunch of toughs ?"

Poirotsaid:

"My dear Mr. Schwartz, you appeared

in the nick of time. It might have been a

drama on the stage! I am very much in

your debt."

"That's nothing. Where do we go from

here? We ought to turn these boys over

to the police and that's just what we can't

do! It's a knotty problem. Maybe we'd

better consult the manager."