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CHAPTER VII. POIROT PAYS HIS DEBTS
As we came out of the Stylites Arms, Poirot drew me aside by a gentle
pressure of the arm. I understood his object. He was waiting for the
Scotland Yard men.
In a few moments, they emerged, and Poirot at once stepped forward, and
accosted the shorter of the two.
"I fear you do not remember me, Inspector Japp."
"
"
Why, if it isn't Mr. Poirot!" cried the Inspector. He turned to the other man.
You've heard me speak of Mr. Poirot? It was in 1904 he and I worked
together--the Abercrombie forgery case--you remember, he was run down in
Brussels. Ah, those were great days, moosier. Then, do you remember
'Baron' Altara? There was a pretty rogue for you! He eluded the clutches of
half the police in Europe. But we nailed him in Antwerp--thanks to Mr.
Poirot here."
As these friendly reminiscences were being indulged in, I drew nearer, and
was introduced to Detective-Inspector Japp, who, in his turn, introduced us
both to his companion, Superintendent Summerhaye.
"
I need hardly ask what you are doing here, gentlemen," remarked Poirot.
Japp closed one eye knowingly.
No, indeed. Pretty clear case I should say."
But Poirot answered gravely:
"
"There I differ from you."
"
Oh, come!" said Summerhaye, opening his lips for the first time. "Surely the
whole thing is clear as daylight. The man's caught red-handed. How he
could be such a fool beats me!"
But Japp was looking attentively at Poirot.
"Hold your fire, Summerhaye," he remarked jocularly. "Me and Moosier here
have met before--and there's no man's judgment I'd sooner take than his. If
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