They came forward swiftly. "Arrest Doctor
Bartholomew for treating the Law with contempt--"
"But, I say, Mr. Headland, this is a damned outrage!"
Cleek held up a hand.
"Yes," he said, "I agree with you. But a very necessary one. Besides"--he
smiled suddenly into the seamed, anxious face of the man--"who knows but
that bullet may prove Sir Nigel's innocence? Who knows but that it is not
the same kind as lie now in this deadly little thing here in my hand? It
lies with you, Doctor. Must I arrest him now, and take him off to the
public jail to await trial, or will you give him a sporting chance?"
The doctor looked up into the keen eyes bent upon him, his own equally
keen. He did not know whether he liked this man of the law or not.
Something of the man's personality, unfortunate as had been its
revelation during this past trying hour, had caught him in its thrall. He
measured him, eye for eye, but Cleek's never wavered.
"I've no instruments," he said at last, hedging for time.
"I have plenty--upstairs. I have dabbled a little in surgery myself, when
occasion has arisen.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178