A Discord in Avalon/Chapter 13
CHAPTER XIII.
"Yes'm, you're pinched," grinned Osgood, with his hand on the shoulder of Mary Palmer. She faced him, seemingly without surprise, and Quentin saw that she had given over all pretense of blindness.
"On a charge of conspiracy, young woman," thundered out Burlington impressively as he came down the room wagging his forefinger. "Officer, I shall appear before both of these persons"
"I don't think you will, Burlington," came a voice from the doorway. And then silence fell suddenly, and Burlington stood as if paralyzed.
Looking at the doorway, Quentin saw there an elderly man of commanding presence, whose Southern goatee fairly bristled with indignation. One arm was about the shoulders of a girl—and Quentin emitted a gasp as he saw that she was clad in red, with black hair that flew over her shoulders.
"Come in, Uncle Jim," said Mary Palmer quietly. "This is Doctor Quentin, who seems to be once more under arrest!" And she flashed Quentin a bright smile. "Doctor, this is my uncle, Mr. Mathews. And this—is Enid Elsmere."
Burlington said no word, but collapsed into the chair behind him, his fingers clawing at the table, and his face suddenly gone to a mottled hue.
"And this," went on the girl, motioning toward the detective, "is the Mr. Osgood of whom I told you, uncle."
Quentin rose, smiling.
"Sorry I can't shake hands, Mr. Mathews," he said, and the tension was broken.
"Take those handcuffs off Doctor Quentin, Osgood!" ordered Mathews, putting Enid Elsmere behind him and advancing. The girl stood, weeping, her face in her hands. "I think you know me, sir?"
"Why—yes, Mr. Mathews," gasped the detective, with unexpected deference. "I didn't forget that murder case, sir"
"Then do as I say!"
"Sorry, sir," and Osgood shook his head. "This gentleman assaulted the big doc over there, and I had to pinch him whether I wanted to or not."
Mathews whirled on the crumpled figure in the chair.
"Withdraw that charge, Burlington, and do it quickly!"
At the cold menace in his voice, Burlington shivered, gasped, and nodded at the detective. A moment later Quentin rubbed his wrists, and Osgood stood with the handcuffs dangling, looking from one to the other in perplexity.
"Arrest this man Burlington," went on Mathews, but before he could finish, the other sprang up with a choking cry:
"No—no, for God's sake, Mathews! Not that!"
"Sit down—shut up, you hound, or I'll thrash you myself!" exploded Mathews, and Burlington crumpled up again, utterly unnerved. "Now let's get this thing straight."
Mary Palmer had her arms about the blind girl, and as Quentin stepped over and glanced into the latter's face, he knew that here there was no deception. Then he looked at Mary Palmer—and found the violet eyes smiling into his.
"What does all this mean?" he asked slowly. At the question, Mathews turned to him and motioned Mary Palmer to speak. The girl laughed happily, glancing from Osgood back to Quentin, and addressing both at once in her rather confused explanation—which was perfectly clear to both, however.
"Why, my uncle—Mr. Mathews here—was to meet me in Los Angeles, on my way from Phoenix to visit him. I missed him and came on alone. At San Pedro I found poor Enid here, afraid to speak to any one, and when I asked her what the matter was she burst into tears and told me the whole story—just as I told it to you, Doctor Quentin. I did not know what to do, but the poor girl was helpless and in distress, and said she wanted to find my uncle, who would protect her. She was afraid that Doctor Burlington would come after her, so I found a policeman and asked him if he would take care of her.
"He happened to know my uncle by sight, and_had seen him that morning—yesterday, but now it seems a year ago! He promised to take care of Enid and to hand her over to my uncle when he came back after having missed me, and I went on the boat to go on to the island. Then I saw you, Mr. Osgood, and you looked at me so hard that—that it made me afraid, and—and"
"And so you made up to me and played blind, eh?" laughed Quentin. Suddenly he understood the whole thing. Mathews had arrived at San Pedro on his way back, had been met by the policeman and the real Enid, and had hastened over to the island. That explained the message which had come for Mary Palmer, and why she had gone out. Upon meeting Mathews, she had brought him back—and what about the pickpocket? Quentin whirled on the detective, smiling.
"I guess you lose out on your lady dip prisoner, Osgood! Kind of bad on your reputation, isn't it?"
"Oh, I don't know," and the detective rubbed at his chin as he cast a glance at the crumpled figure in the chair. ""As near's I get you, Mr. Mathews, I'm to pinch the big doc over there, eh?"
Weeping unrestrainedly, the blind girl loosed her arms from around Mary Palmer and turned, with a little pleading gesture that was terribly pathetic.
"No," she cried, her voice choked with sobs. "Please, Mr. Mathews, please don't"
"All right, little girl; all right," and Mathews gathered her in his arms for a moment, comforting her. Then, as he lifted his head and gazed across her streaming black hair, his voice bit into the crumpled figure.
"Burlington, get out of here! This guardianship shall be turned over to me by the courts, unless you do it of your own will inside of three days. Now—get out. and do it quick!"
The big man rose heavily. Despite his anger, despite the swift attempt to ruin him, which had so nearly succeeded, Quentin felt a thrill of pity as he looked on the man's ghastly face; Burlington appeared utterly crushed, and the terrific mental agony stamped in his features was too much for the younger man. Quentin took an impulsive step forward.
"I don't think any of us want much publicity out of this, Burlington. For the sake of your wife and Dolly, I'll see that the whole thing is kept quiet."
The other did not reply. With a pitiful effort at self-possession, he tried to recover his old pompous manner, failed dismally, took the silk hat handed him by the grinning Osgood, and the door slammed. Mathews looked over at Quentin with a twinkle in his eye.
"You seem confident of your ability to hush this thing up, young man!"
"I am," retorted Quentin, "provided that Osgood will keep quiet"
"Oh, I'm satisfied," murmured the detective easily. "I'm used to keeping my head shut, doc. But you can't always tell about a lady" And he glanced meaningly at Mary Palmer.
"No," she added merrily. "How do you propose to shut my mouth, Doctor Quentin?"
"Well," and Quentin smiled into her eyes, "I do know one very effective method of doing it; but I've only known you one day—and there are other folks around"
"Don't mind me, doc," exclaimed Osgood hastily, and the door slammed again.