A Husband by Proxy

by Jack Steele

  CHAPTER XVI

  IN QUEST OF DOROTHY

  More than half ready to believe that Dorothy had been spirited away,Garrison examined everything available, with the intention ofdiscovering, if possible, any scrap that might indicate the destinationto which the trio had proceeded.

  The Robinsons had left almost nothing of the slightest value orimportance, since what clothing remained was of no significancewhatever.

  It was not until he opened up the old man's books on the subject ofwills that Garrison found the slightest clew, and then he came upon apostal-card addressed to "Sykey Robinson, Esq.," from Theodore'smother. It mentioned the fact that she had arrived quite safely at"the house," and requested that her husband forward a pair of herglasses, left behind when she started.

  The address of the place where she was stopping was given as 1600Myrtle Avenue. The postmark was Woodsite, Long Island.

  Garrison made up his mind to go to Woodsite. If Dorothy were found, hemeant to steal her--if need be, even against her will.

  Warmed to the business by his few discoveries, he returned at once toDorothy's apartments and opened her bureau and dressing-table for asuperficial inspection. To his complete surprise, he found that everydrawer was in utter confusion as to its contents. That each and allhad been rudely overhauled there could not be a doubt for a moment.Not one showed the order apparent in all things else about the rooms.

  There could be but one conclusion. Some one had searched themhurriedly, sparing not even the smallest. The someone could not havebeen Dorothy, for many reasons--and Garrison once more rejoiced.

  He was thoroughly convinced that Dorothy had been taken from the houseby force.

  Whatever else she might be guilty of, he felt she must be innocent ofthe dastardly attempt upon his life. And, wherever she was, he meantto find her and take her away, no matter what the cost.

  The hour was late--too late, he was aware--for anything effective. Notwithout a certain satisfaction in his sense of ownership, and with grimresolutions concerning his dealings in future with the Robinsons, heextinguished the lights in the rooms he had searched, and, glad of themuch-needed rest, retired in calm for six solid hours of sleep.

  This brought him out, refreshed and vigorous, at a bright, early hourof the morning. The housekeeper, not yet stirring in her downstairsquarters, failed to hear him let himself out at the door--and his waywas clear for action.

  His breakfast he took at an insignificant cafe. Then he went to hisroom in Forty-fourth Street.

  The "shadow," faithful to his charge, was waiting in the street beforethe house. His presence was noted by Garrison, who nodded to himselfin understanding of the fellow's persistency.

  Arrived upstairs, he discovered three letters, none of which he tookthe time to read. They were thrust in his pocket--and forgotten.

  The metal bomb, which was still in his coat, he concealed among a lotof shoes in his closet.

  From among his possessions, accumulated months before, when the needsof the Biddle robbery case had arisen, he selected a thoroughlyeffective disguise, which not only grew a long, drooping mustache uponhis lip, but aged him about the eyes, and appeared to reduce hisstature and his width of shoulders. With a pair of shabby gloves onhis hands, and a book beneath his arms, he had suddenly become agenteel if poor old book-agent, whose appearance excited compassion.

  Well supplied with money, armed with a loaded revolver, fortified byhis official badge, and more alert in all his faculties than he hadever felt in all his life, he passed down the stairs and out upon thestreet, under the very nose of the waiting "shadow," into whose face hecast a tired-looking glance, without exciting the slightest suspicion.

  Twenty minutes later he had hired a closed automobile, and was beingcarried toward the Williamsburg Bridge and Long Island. The carselected was of a type renowned for achievements in speed.

  It was nearly ten o'clock when he stood at length on the sidewalkopposite 1600 Myrtle Avenue, Woodsite, a modest cottage standing on acorner. It was one of the houses farthest from the center of the town;nevertheless, it had its neighbors all about, if somewhat scattered.

  There was no sign of life about the place. The shades were drawn; itbore a look of desertion. Only pausing for a moment, as even abook-agent might, after many repeated rebuffs, Garrison wended his wayacross the street, proceeded slowly up the concrete walk, ascended thesteps, and rang the bell.

  There was no result. He rang again, and out of the corner of his eyebeheld the curtain pushed a trifle aside, in the window near at hand,where someone looked out from this concealment. For the third time herang--and at last the door was opened for a distance no more than sixinches wide. The face he saw was old man Robinson's.

  The chain on the door was securely fastened, otherwise Garrison wouldhave pushed his way inside without further ado. He noted this barelyin time to save himself from committing an error.

  "Go away!" said old Robinson testily. "No books wanted!"

  "I hope you will not refuse a tired old man," said Garrison, in a voicethat seemed trembling with weakness. "The books I have to offer arequite remarkable indeed.

  "Don't want them. Good-day!" said Robinson. He tried to close thedoor, but Garrison's foot prevented.

  "One of my books is particularly valuable to read to headstrong youngwomen. If you have a daughter--or any young woman in the house----"

  "She can't see anyone--I mean there's no such person here!" snappedRobinson. "What's the matter with that door?"

  "My other book is of the rarest interest," insisted Garrison. "Anaccount of the breaking of the Butler will--a will drawn up by the mostastute and crafty lawyer in America, yet broken because of its flaws.A book----"

  "Whose will was that?" demanded Robinson, his interest suddenly roused."Some lawyer, did you say?" He relaxed his pressure on the door andfumbled at the chain.

  "The will of Benjamin Butler--the famous Benjamin Butler," Garrisonreplied. "One of the most remarkable----"

  "Come in," commanded old Robinson, who had slipped off the chain. "Howmuch is the book?"

  "I am only taking orders to-day," answered Garrison, stepping brisklyinside and closing the door with his heel. "If you'll take this copyto the light----"

  "Father!" interrupted an angry voice. "Didn't I tell you not to letanyone enter this house? Get out, you old nuisance! Get out with yourbook?"

  Garrison looked down the oak-finished hall and saw Theodore comingangrily toward him.

  Alive to the value of the melodramatic, he threw off both his hat andmustache and squared up in Theodore's path.

  Young Robinson reeled as if struck a staggering blow.

  "You--you----" he gasped.

  Old Robinson recovered his asperity with remarkable promptness.

  "How dare you come into this house?" he screamed. "You lying----"

  "That's enough of that," said Garrison quietly. "I came forDorothy--whom you dared to carry away."

  "You--you--you're mistaken," said Theodore, making a most tremendouseffort at calmness, with his face as white as death. "She isn't here."

  "Don't lie. Your father has given the facts away," said Garrison. "Iwant her--and I want her now."

  "Look here," said Theodore, rapidly regaining his rage, "if you thinkyou can come to my house like this----" He was making a move as if toslip upstairs--perhaps for a gun.

  Garrison pulled his revolver without further parley.

  "Stay where you are! Up with your hands! Don't either of you make amove that I don't order, understand? I said I'd come to take my wifeaway."

  "For Heaven's sake, don't shoot!" begged old Robinson. "Don't shoot!"

  "You fool--do you think I'd bring her here?" said Theodore, trying togrin, but putting up his hands. "Put away your gun, and act like a manin his senses, or I'll have you pulled for your pains."

  "You've done talking enough--and perhaps _I'll_ have just a word to sayabout pulling, later on," said Garrison. "In the mean
time, don't youopen your head again, or you'll get yourself into trouble."

  He raised his voice and shouted tremendously:

  "Dorothy!"

  "Jerold!" came a muffled cry, from somewhere above in a room.

  He heard her vainly tugging at a door.

  "Go up ahead of me, both of you," he commanded, making a gesture withthe gun. "I prefer not to break in the door."