Dent Lester - Trouble On Parade

Disappointed Smith pulled at his whiskers gloomily.

“You tricked me,” he complained.

Presently he produced a quotation: “'He who expects much will be often disappointed; yet disappointment seldom cures us of expectation, or has any other effect than that of producing a moral sentence or peevish exclamation' .“

And that was the last sound out of him until they got to Yarmouth.

The seagulls were flying at night. And cirrus cloud like wisping mare's tails was traveling very high in the sky. 2 signs of approaching change in the weather.

Doc eased the Zipper into the hotel dock in Yarmouth harbor … laid it against the fenders with a brief surge of the port engine … dropped the springline loops over the dock bollards …

… and looked up to find himself confronted by an angry policeman.

There were 3 policemen, in fact. Also a conservatively-dressed gentleman who looked as if he might be their superior, the assistant manager of the hotel (the latter the man who had grudgingly rented Doc the room for Jane Walden) and another man in the "welcoming" committee.

Everyone seemed to blazeflashlights in Doc's eyes at once.

“All right! Don't start anything!” said one of the policemen in a determined tone. “Keep your hands in view and come ashore peaceable.”

Disappointed Smith whistled, suddenly quite cheerful.

“Looks like a reception,” he remarked.

Doc Savage frowned and asked, “Do you gentlemen know what you're doing?”

The conservatively dressed man spoke grimly. “I'm Inspector Carlew of the Yarmouth constabulary. Are you Doc Savage?”

“I am Doc Savage,” Doc admitted.

“You are hereby advised that you are under arrest, Mr. Savage,” said Inspector Carlew.

Amazed, Doc Savage demanded, “On what charges?”

The response came from successive individuals.

“Illegally administering a narcotic drug to a young woman,” advised Inspector Carlew.

“Engaging a hotel room for illegal purposes,” added the hotel assistant manager.

“Suspicion of kidnapping,” said a uniformed policeman.

“An act of piracy,” growled another man.

This apparently completed the roster of charges for the time being because a silence fell …

… a waiting stillness which Disappointed Smith shortly broke with a pleased chuckle and an offer: “Could I get my little 2-bits worth of assault&battery in the kettle? He jumped in the ocean with me and tried to drown me.”

Doc Savage was craning his neck to see who had accused him of piracy. The fellow's voice having struck him as somewhat familiar. The man, it developed, was not a complete stranger.

Darkly tanned and well-dressed, he was the fellow who had earlier in the afternoon joined Doc while he was looking at the thermometer and dropped a couple of remarks about the weather and about the suggestion that a smart man would catch the first plane back to the States.

“Who are you?” Doc asked.

The man — wrath in his hard, oily voice — said, “I am S.K. Foreman. And it happens to be my boat you stole!”

“Borrowed,” Doc corrected. “Not stole.”

Foreman snorted violently! “I doubt if you will be able to show a judge the difference.”

Doc turned to the Inspector. “Just what started this legal excitement?”

“You are a man of considerable reputation and prestige, Mr. Savage,” said the Inspector grimly. “But it doesn't entitle you to assault hotel employees and remove a young lady violently from the premises. Not in Yarmouth, it doesn't.”

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Startled, Doc Savage eyed the policeman. And he had the impression that he'd never seen a more unfriendly looking bunch of lawmen.

The last charge — assaulting hotel employees and kidnapping young ladies — led him to think automatically of Mr. Flinch. But he hadn't laid a hand on Mr. Flinch — only considered doing so. Not that he suspected Mr. Flinch wouldn't trump up a charge if it were profitable.

“Where,” Doc asked, “did I commit this last crime?”

The response came from the assistant manager of the Royal East, who explained, “A number of men — we are not definitely sure how many — entered the Royal East by the service entrance, obtained the service elevator by force, first telling the elevator operator that Doc Savage had sent them and then — when the operator demurred — struck him several times, fracturing his jaw. Following this, they took the service lift to the upper floors and removed the young lady whom you had registered as Miss Jane Walden.”

As the explanation ended, Doc Savage happened by chance to glance at Disappointed Smith. He was startled at the shock which Smith was registering. Smith — realizing he was under scrutiny — hurriedly composed himself.

Doc addressed the assistant manager of the hotel.

“Removed the young lady, you say? You mean they kidnapped her?”

“They took her away, still unconscious,” the hotel man said. “I don't know the exact legal terminology for the act.”

“And they said I sent them?”

“Exactly.”

“What,” Doc demanded, “did they look like?”

The Inspector made a gesture with his flashlight, interrupting: “I fail to see that this is the time or place for a discussion. Mr. Savage, you understand that you are under arrest?”

“Did one of the men,” Doc asked, “have a small face? Was he darkly sun-burned and left-handed?”

“One of them answered that description,” admitted Inspector Carlew.

“That man took a shot at me,” Doc said.

“When?”

“Just prior to my bringing Jane Walden to the hotel.”

The Inspector scowled at Doc Savage.

“Why,” he demanded, “didn't you report being shot at?”

“I didn't have time.”

Still frowning, the Inspector said, “You should have taken the time. When a man gets shot at, someone has attempted a capital crime. And incidentally, concealing such an attempt from the authorities is also an illegal act.”

“I'm telling you about it now, so how could I be concealing it,” Doc pointed out.

Disappointed Smith cleared his throat and said loudly, “Savage is guilty of everything in the book! Throw him in jail and you won't make any mistake.”

Everyone looked at Smith who presented a striking spectacle — clad only in bathing trunks and with his beard tangled and bristling.

Doc Savage indicated Smith and asked, “You gentlemen know this fellow, don't you?”

“Isn't he the one who was going to swim across the ocean?” the Inspector demanded.

Doc nodded. “He also took shots at various people who attempted — out of the goodness of their hearts — to rescue him.”

“Now wait a minute!” exclaimed Disappointed Smith in alarm. “I didn't aim at …”

“A man who performs such acts,” Doc added, “is not a safe person to be allowed abroad in society.”

“Listen, I didn't shoot at anybody!” Smith gasped. “I only did a little scaring.”

Inspector Carlew gave a sign to one of the constables.

“Take him into custody too,” he said.

“You can't arrest me!” Smith yelled.

This statement proved overly optimistic because presently there were handcuffs on his wrists.

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The jail — like most jails — had not been constructed with the thought of encouraging the occupants to make a return visit. The night was oppressively hot. And whatever inclination to sleep Doc Savage might have had was dispelled by the unrest of Disappointed Smith who — with 2 pugnaciously intoxicated gentlemen — seemed to be the only other clients.