A Husband by Proxy | Page 7

nothing on the
reverse. Placing it face upward on the table, he thrust his hands into his
pockets and looked at Mr. Wicks.
"I'm expected to fasten this crime on Scott?" he inquired. "Is that what
your company requires?"

"Fasten the crime on the guilty man!" replied the aggressive Mr. Wicks.
"If Scott didn't do it, we'll pay the claim. If he did, we'll send him to the
chair. It may not be murder at all."
"Of course," said Garrison. "Who wrote this report?"
"What's that to you?" said Wicks.
"I wondered why the writer drops out of the case," answered Garrison.
"That's all."
"I wrote it," said Wicks. "Scott knows me from the former case. If you
want the case, you will start this evening for Hickwood and begin your
work. Use your own devices. Report everything promptly--everything.
Go at once to the office and present your card for expenses and typed
instructions. Good-day!"
He had clapped on his hat. He strode to the door, opened it, disappeared,
and closed it again as if he worked on springs. Garrison was left staring
at the knob, his hand mechanically closed on the statement intrusted to
his keeping.
"Well," he said, "I'll be scalloped! Good old New York!"
He was presently out upon the street, a brisk, active figure, boarding a
Broadway car for the downtown office of the company.
At half past five he was back once more in his office with a second
hundred dollars in his pocket, fifty of which was for expenses.
He was turning away from his desk at last to leave for his lodgings,
thence to journey to Hickwood, when a messenger-boy abruptly
appeared with a telegram.
When Garrison had signed, he opened the envelope and read the
following:
"Wire me you have arrived unexpectedly and will be here at eight, then
come.

"DOROTHY FAIRFAX."
He almost ran from the building, bought a five-dollar bunch of the
choicest roses, and, after wiring in accordance with instructions, sent
them to the house.
CHAPTER III
TWO ENCOUNTERS
Garrison roomed in Forty-fourth Street, where he occupied a small,
second-story apartment. His meals he procured at various restaurants
where fancy chanced to lead.
To-night a certain eagerness for adventure possessed his being.
More than anything else in the world he wished to see Dorothy again;
he hardly dared confess why, but told himself that she was
charming--and his nature demanded excitement.
He dined well and leisurely, bought a box of chocolates to present to
his new-found "wife," dressed himself with exceptional care, and at
length took an uptown train for his destination.
All the way on the cars he was thinking of the task he had undertaken
to perform. Not without certain phases of amusement, he rehearsed his
part, and made up his mind to leave nothing of the rôle neglected.
Arrived in the West Side street, close to the house which should have
been Dorothy's, he discovered that the numbering on the doors had
been wretchedly mismanaged. One or the other of two brownstone
fronts must be her residence; he could not determine which. The
nearest was lighted from top to bottom. In the other a single pair of
windows only, on the second floor, showed the slightest sign of life.
Resolved to be equal to anything the adventure might require, he
mounted the steps of the lighted dwelling and rang the bell. He was
almost immediately admitted by a serving-man, who appeared a trifle

surprised to behold him, but who bowed him in as if he were expected,
with much formality and deference.
"What shall I call you?" he said.
Garrison was surprised, but he announced:
"Just Mr. Jerold."
A second door was opened; a gush of perfumed air, a chorus of gay
young voices, and a peal of laughter greeted Garrison's ears as the
servant called out his name.
Instantly a troop of brilliantly dressed young women came running
from the nearest room, all in fancy costume and all of them masked.
Evidently a fancy-dress party was about to begin in the house. Garrison
realized his blunder.
Before he could move, a stunning, superbly gowned girl, with bare
neck and shoulders that were the absolute perfection of beauty, came
boldly up to where the visitor stood. The others had ceased their
laughter.
"Jerold!--how good of you to come!" said the girl, and, boldly patting
his face with her hand, she quickly darted from him, while the others
laughed with glee.
Garrison was sure he had never seen her before. Indeed, he had
scarcely had time to note anything about her, save that on her neck she
wore two necklaces--one of diamonds, the other of pearls, and both of
wonderful gems.
Then out from the room from which she had come stepped a man
appareled as Satan--in red from top