H. Bedford-Jones

“ Green and Mr. Wells at once," he said quietly, then turned and walked off.
"Wait!" implored Wells, trying to rise. "Wait, doc—I shay, ol' man——"
Quentin strode back to the street, unheeding, and drew a long breath. He felt as though he needed cleansing before going back to Enid Elsmere.
The thought stopped him like a blow. What was he to do? It seemed to be a cold certainty that she was not only the pickpocket in question, but that she had neatly "touched" him for most of his money. He had ten or twelve dollars left, but no more. ”

“ Wells laughed vacantly, but Green flung his cigarette over the railing and got shakily to his feet, anger in his face.
"You're drunk yourself, doc. You're blind drunk, and I'm going to put you to bed——"
"Shut up, you fool!" broke in Quentin roughly ,as another party of golfers passed their table with curious glances.
For answer, Green caught the whisky bottle from the table and swung it full at him. Quentin rose from his chair, caught the wildly swinging arm, saved the bottle, and then very determinedly flung Green down into his chair, where he lay gasping for air. ”

“ If that impossible tale of hers is true, she needs help mighty badly. I think I'd sooner be taken for an easy mark, though, and lose a little coin in the process than be scared out of helping a person who might be in need of me. ”