2880353A Discord in Avalon — Chapter XIIH. Bedford-Jones


CHAPTER XII.

There was a strained silence on all three of the men as they strode into the hotel lobby. Osgood went over to the desk, and Quentin followed him; while the detective was getting the envelope containing his personal belongings, Quentin made inquiries after the girl. He found that she had not returned, and doubted no longer that she was the pickpocket and had seized the chance to get away. Osgood looked up at him with a grin.

"Well, doc, I ain't got any hard feelings; I guess you're square, after all. But what's the row between you and the other doc?"

Quentin glanced across at Burlington, who was waiting by the elevator, and shrugged his shoulders. "Come along and see. If I'm not much mistaken, you'll be able to make an arrest yet, Osgood."

As they crossed back and rejoined Burlington, Quentin determined to force the issue squarely. What the points of the law were, he did not know; but he fancied that he could at least make a charge against the Long Beach man which would force the matter into the courts. There was no doubt that in some manner Mary Palmer had learned Burlington's secret, perhaps through the under channels used by crooks to obtain such knowledge; the thought that she was indeed a thief struck Quentin hard, but he knew now that the story was true enough.

With tense silence still prevailing among the three, they reached Quentin's room. Burlington dropped into a chair, smoothed back his graying hair in his most precise fashion, and faced Quentin.

"Now, sir," he said, breathing hard, but forcing himself into self-control, "you will kindly explain your veiled charges against me. I am bitterly surprised in you, Allan Quentin, and unless you make a satisfactory explanation, you shall suffer for it."

"I do not intend to explain," returned Quentin coldly. "That will come from you. I suppose you will admit that Enid Elsmere is your ward, and that owing to her affliction you have the use of her income?"

"Yes, you scoundrel!" burst out the other, quivering with rage. "I'll not only admit it, but I'll make you admit where you got that information!"

Quentin smiled.

"By your own words you confess that you have kept the matter quiet, Burlington. Your friends know nothing of her being in your house; you've deliberately attempted to keep her sequestered so that you might enjoy her money; you've lied to her about her condition, and since you told me this morning that the girl you were after had a brain tumor, a simple operation would have fixed her up. The courts may have given you control of her, Burlington, but I doubt whether you'll keep it long."

With that, he turned to Osgood, who was chewing an unlit cigar.

"I don't know what charge covers this case, Osgood, but I guess you understand enough of the situation. Now, I demand that you arrest Doctor Burlington there on my charge, and I will appear against him; the girl has escaped from his hands, and she'll be located quickly enough when this thing gets into the open."

Osgood reached down into his pocket and produced his handcuffs hesitantly.

"Well, doc, I ain't quite sure myself, but I'll take a chance——"

"Not so fast, there!" Burlington leaped to his feet quickly. "I intend to lay a charge here myself. Osgood, you saw Quentin with a presumably blind girl yesterday, whom he passed off as Miss Elsmere; since you've heard what has passed between us, you know that Miss Elsmere was my ward by legal right, and if I've thought fit to keep her secluded, that's my affair and not yours. I've been trying to cure her without an operation——"

"And you've been three years doing it," broke in Quentin hotly.

"Confound you, shut up!" roared Burlington. "Osgood, arrest that man! I charge him with conspiracy and attempted blackmail; he and that pretended charge of his, whom he passed off on you as Miss Elsmere and on me as Miss Palmer, are in this thing together. I charge them with kidnaping my ward and getting her out of the way, in a conspiracy to extort money from me. I'll fix you, you damned scoundrel!"

Quentin's mouth tightened into a set line as he faced the other, longing to plant his fist on the big jaw. Burlington acted out his part well, helped by the furious rage which consumed him; the young surgeon saw that Osgood was wavering, and perceived at once that Burlington had managed to turn the tables on him very neatly.

Also, he knew what the others did not—that Mary Palmer had slipped away, that she was the "dip" for whom Osgood was looking, and that when this complication came out the charge made by Burlington would be tremendously strengthened. On the whole, things looked pretty black, he thought.

The others did not know this, however, and there was still a chance to bluff his way through safely. Burlington's charge was also bluff, but with skill it could be turned into a thing of reality; Quentin alone knew how real it might be when the facts about Mary Palmer were brought to light.

"Look here, Osgood," he said, fighting for time, "Doctor Burlington has been going all over the island this morning hunting for Miss Elsmere——"

"Thought you said that skirt with you was the lady?" put in the detective bluntly.

"I did—but her real name was Mary Palmer. I knew that Burlington would be after his ward, who had escaped, and I merely wanted to lay a blind trail that might deceive him. In that way, the girl would have time to reach friends. Now, there's the situation. By his own words and actions, Burlington has proved that he's been attempting malpractice; I'll add that to my charges as well, if it'll do any good."

"You scoundrel!" flamed Burlington, taking a step toward Quentin, his fists waving threateningly. "You needn't try to get out of your scrape by laying charges against me! Officer, either arrest that fellow, or I'll have you broke!"

Osgood grinned slightly.

"I guess not, doc—it'll take more than a pair of you to break Bert Osgood.. One of you guys has to be arrested, I guess, but as far's I can see, the odds are even. Why don't you toss up a coin and settle it? The only thing I can see is to pull the both of you and let you scrap it out with the desk sergeant!"

Quentin laughed, as his sense of humor awoke to the occasion. Burlington, however, was only maddened. the more.

"Confound it, do I have to arrest him myself? I'll call in the officials here, unless you act at once! Get hold of his woman accomplice, and do it lively; if you refuse to arrest him, I'll take care of the scoundrel."

"That suits me," and Osgood rubbed his jaw with a reflective grin at Quentin. "That's a good idea, doc. Where's that lady pal of yours?"

Quentin gave up. Osgood's keen perception had pierced to the nub of things—which happened to be Mary Palmer—and there was no use putting off the inevitable any longer.

Had not Burlington interfered at this junction, Quentin would simply have placed the whole affair in the detective's hands, and let things take their course. But at Osgood's exclamation, Burlington hastily turned toward the door, with savage determination in his features.

"I'll attend to her myself!" he declared hotly. "You take care of Quentin, and I'll bring the woman here——"

With this, Quentin's cold restraint gave way. Deciding instantly that he would at least have the satisfaction of putting Burlington in his place, he darted forward and whirled in front of the door with a swift push that sent Burlington staggering back.

"That's enough from you!" he cried, his eyes flaming. "You're not going to bully any more women, Burlington—unless you do it inside State's prison."

The other leaned against the table a second, glaring and panting heavily. In that instant Quentin knew that he must subdue or go under; Burlington's powerful face expressed determination to silence him at whatever cost. The whole future of each man depended upon the outcome.

Yet in Burlington's face Quentin read a swift cunning that he could not fathom, a purpose which was hidden from him. He was soon to learn its import, however.

"Get away from that door, Quentin!" snapped the older man, stepping forward once more. "Bear witness that I'm only trying to get out of this room, Osgood——"

Goaded beyond endurance, Quentin wasted no more words. Burlington came at him. and, without hesitation, he drove out his fist; the blow caught the other on the cheek and sent him reeling, but Burlington attempted no return.

"Arrest him—for assault!" he gasped, clinging to a chair. Too late, Quentin saw the plan, but he gave Osgood no chance to intervene. He had played into his enemy's hand, but he determined to do it thoroughly while he was about it.

With a swift step forward, he sent his fist crashing into Burlington's mouth, and the larger man bent back across the table. He writhed away, but again Quentin's knuckles found him, this time for a clean blow under the ear. Burlington shot headfirst into the corner, and Quentin found the burly detective gripping his arms.

"Easy does it, doc—easy does it!" exclaimed Osgood firmly. Quentin looked him in the eye, half wrenched away, then the cold flame of anger died out of his face, and he laughed shortly.

"All right, Osgood. I'll not touch you or him, either. Let go!"

"You're under arrest, sir," said the other quietly, stepping back. "Now let's see what you did to the big doc. Say, you've got a great little kick in that right of yours! Look at him!"

Quentin looked down at Burlington, who was slowly gaining his feet, and noted with great satisfaction that the three blows he had landed would leave their marks for some time. The detective pulled up the fallen physician, and shoved him into a chair, but Burlington staggered up, still furious.

"By ——, put that man under arrest!" he foamed, beside himself with rage. "He's assaulted me——"

"I've got him under arrest, doc," said Osgood, forcing him back into the chair. "Now, you sit down and cool off a minute."

"I'm cool enough, my man," retorted Burlington. "You'd better get hold of the woman and arrest her also on my charge."

"You'd better not, Osgood," put in Quentin calmly.

The detective coolly disregarded him, and stepped to the wall telephone.

"What name does she go under here—what's her alias, doc?" he asked, turning toward Quentin. The latter gave up the struggle.

"Miss Elsmere."

While Osgood was communicating with the office, Quentin stared disgustedly at the floor. He had made a fine mess of things now, he reflected. He had virtually forced himself under arrest, the hand of circumstance had clutched about his neck, and Burlington would have little difficulty in making good his charge of conspiracy when the whole miserable story had been dragged into court.

After all, what had he on which to base his own charges? Nothing but the word of a woman he did not know, and who was herself a fugitive from justice, combined with some trifling circumstantial evidence which Burlington could easily explain away. Still, there would be court records of Burlington's guardianship, but unless the real Enid Elsmere was to be produced as a witness against him, Burlington would have an easy time squirming out of Quentin's charge—especially when the latter had been placed under arrest for assault, and might be facing a hatched-up conspiracy charge.

"Say," exclaimed Osgood, turning from the telephone with a black look, "I guess you done me out of pinching that dip after all, doc. She went out o' here this morning, about as blind as I am."

"What!" roared Burlington, leaping up. "Is she gone?"

"Gone is right, big doc." Osgood was far recovered from the influence of that twenty-dollar bill by this time, and showed it plainly. "But I got this guy, and I got him right now. Doc, slip out your wrists for the bracelets, and no fooling."

Quentin, beyond words, put out his hands as Osgood came up. There was a clink and a click, and the handcuffs were upon him. At this instant the telephone bell rang, and Osgood answered it.

"Sure!" he said quickly. "Send 'em up."

He hung up the receiver and turned with a grin.

"It's all right, doc," he said, addressing Burlington. "That there woman we're after just came in, and she'll be up here in a jiffy. We'll nab 'em both at once."

Quentin looked up, then dropped his head with a groan. The whole thing had been useless—Mary Palmer had returned, only to walk into a trap, and he was powerless to save her or himself from the toils that he saw fast closing about them both.

A moment later there was a knock at the door. Burlington started up, but the detective waved him back with a confident grin, and moved over so that he was in position to grip whoever entered.

"Come in!" he cried, and the door opened.