A Husband by Proxy | Page 2

usefulness. I left college a year ago, and last week opened my office here and became a New Yorker."
He might, in all modesty, have exhibited a scrap-book filled with accounts of his achievements, with countless references to his work as a "scientific criminologist" of rare mental attainments. Of his attainments as a gentleman there was no need of reference. They proclaimed themselves in his bearing.
His visitor laid a glove and a scrap of paper on the desk.
"It isn't so much detective services I require," she said; "but of course you are widely acquainted in New York--I mean with young men particularly?"
"No," he replied, "I know almost none. But I know the city fairly well, if that will answer your purpose."
"I thought, of course--I hoped you might know some honorable---- You see, I have come on rather extraordinary business," she said, faltering a little helplessly. "Let me ask you first--is the confidence of a possible client quite sacred with a man in this profession?"
"Absolutely sacred!" he assured her. "Whether you engage my services or not, your utterances here will be treated as confidential and as inviolate as if spoken to a lawyer, a doctor, or a clergyman."
"Thank you," she murmured. "I have been hunting around----"
She left the sentence incomplete.
"And you found my name quite by accident," he supplied, indicating the scrap of paper. "I cannot help observing that you have been to other offices first. You have tramped all the way down Broadway from Forty-second Street, for the red ink that someone spilled at the Forty-first Street crossing is still on your shoe, together with just a film of dust."
She withdrew her shoe beneath the edge of her skirt, although he had never apparently glanced in that direction.
"Yes," she admitted, "I have been to others--and they wouldn't do. I came in here because of the name--Jerold. I am sorry you are not better acquainted--for my business is important."
"Perhaps if I knew the nature of your needs I might be able to advise you," said Garrison. "I hope to be more widely acquainted soon."
She cast him one look, full of things inscrutable, and lowered her lashes in silence. She was evidently striving to overcome some indecision.
Garrison looked at her steadily. He thought he had never in his life beheld a woman so beautiful. Some wild, unruly hope that she might become his client, perhaps even a friend, was flaring in his mind.
The color came and went in her cheeks, adding fresh loveliness at every change. She glanced at her list of names, from which a number had been scratched.
"Well," she said presently, "I think perhaps you might still be able to attend to my requirements."
He waited to hear her continue, but she needed encouragement.
"I shall be glad to try," he assured her.
She was silent again--and blushing. She looked up somewhat defiantly.
"I wish you to procure me a husband."
Garrison stared. He was certain he had heard incorrectly.
"I do not mean an actual husband," she explained. "I simply mean some honorable young man who will assume the r?le for a time, as a business proposition, for a fee to be paid as I would pay for anything else.
"I would require that he understand the affair to be strictly commercial, and that when I wish the arrangement to terminate he will disappear from the scene and from my acquaintance at once and absolutely.
"All I ask of you is to supply me such a person. I will pay you whatever fee you may demand--in reason."
Garrison looked at her as fixedly as she was looking at him.
Her recital of her needs had brought to the surface a phase of desperation in her bearing that wrought upon him potently, he knew not why.
"I think I understand your requirements, as far as one can in the circumstances," he answered. "I hardly believe I have the ability to engage such a person as you need for such a mission. I informed you at the start that my acquaintance with New York men is exceedingly narrow. I cannot think of anyone I could honestly recommend."
"But don't you know any honorable young gentleman--like some college man, perhaps--here in New York, looking for employment; someone who might be glad to earn, say, five hundred dollars?" she insisted. "Surely if you only know a few, there must be one among them."
Garrison sat back in his chair and took hold of his smooth-shaved lip with his thumb and finger. He reviewed his few New York experiences rapidly.
"No," he repeated. "I know of no such man. I am sorry."
His visitor looked at him with a new, flashing light in her eyes.
"Not one?" she said, significantly. "Not one young college man?"
He was unsuspicious of her meaning.
"Not one."
For a moment she fingered her glove where it lay upon the desk. Then a look of more pronounced determination and