A Husband by Proxy

by Jack Steele

  CHAPTER XXVII

  LIKE A BOLT FROM THE BLUE

  Delaying only long enough to deposit his suit-case at his lodgings, andneglecting the luncheon which he felt he could relish, Garrison postedoff to Eighteenth Street with all possible haste.

  The house he found at the number supplied by Dorothy was an old-timeresidence, with sky-scrapers looming about it. A pale woman met him atthe door.

  "Miss Root--is Miss Root in, please?" he said. "I'd like to see her."

  "There's no such person here," said the woman.

  "She's gone--she's given up her apartment?" said Garrison, at a loss toknow what this could mean. "She went to-day? Where is she now?"

  "She's never been here," informed the landlady. "A number of letterscame here, addressed in her name, and I took them in, as people oftenhave mail sent like that when they expect to visit the city, but shesent around a messenger and got them this morning."

  Thoroughly disconcerted by this intelligence, Garrison could only askif the woman knew whence the messenger had come--the address to whichhe had taken the letters. The woman did not know.

  There was nothing to do but to hasten to the house near WashingtonSquare. Garrison lost no time in speeding down Fifth Avenue.

  He came to the door just in time to meet Miss Ellis, dressed to go out.

  "Why, how do you do, Mr. Fairfax?" she said. "Mrs. Fairfax asked me totell you, if you came before I went, that she'd meet you at youroffice. I felt so sorry when she was ill."

  "I didn't know she'd been ill," said Garrison. "I was afraid ofsomething like that when she failed to write."

  "Oh, yes, she was ill in the morning, the very day after you left,"imparted Miss Ellis.

  "I know you'll excuse me," interrupted Garrison. "I'll hurry along,and hope to see you again."

  He was off so abruptly that Miss Ellis was left there gasping on thesteps.

  Ten minutes later he was stepping from the elevator and striding downthe office-building hall.

  Dorothy was not yet in the corridor. He opened the office, beheld anumber of notes and letters on the floor, and was taking them up whenDorothy came in, breathless, her eyes ablaze with excitement.

  "Jerold!" she started. "Please lock the door and----" when she wasinterrupted by the entrance of a man.

  Dorothy gave a little cry and fled behind the desk.

  Garrison faced the intruder, a tall, flaxen-haired, blue-eyed man witha long mustache--a person with every mark of the gentleman upon him.

  "Well, sir," said Garrison, in some indignation, "what can I do foryou?"

  "We'll wait a minute and see," said the stranger. "My name is JeroldFairfax, and I came to claim my wife."

  Garrison almost staggered. It was like a bolt from the bluest sky,where naught but the sun of glory had been visible.

  "Dorothy! What does he mean?" he said, turning at once to the girl.

  She sank weakly to a chair and could not meet the question in his eyes.

  "Didn't you hear what I said?" demanded the visitor. "This is my wifeand I'd like to know what it means, you or somebody else passingyourself off in my place!"

  Garrison still looked at Dorothy.

  "This isn't true, what the man is saying?" he inquired.

  She tried to look up. "I--I---- Forgive me, please," she said."He's--He followed me here----"

  "Certainly I followed," interrupted the stranger. "Why wouldn't Ifollow my wife? What does this mean, all this stuff they've beenprinting in the papers about some man passing as your husband?" Hesnatched out a newspaper abruptly, and waved it in the air.

  "And if you're the man," he added, turning to Garrison, "I'll informyou right now----"

  "That will do for you," Garrison interrupted. "This lady has come tomy office on a matter of business. My services to her have nothing todo with you or any of your claims. And let me impress upon you thefact that her affairs with me are private in character, and that youare here uninvited."

  "The devil I am!" answered Fairfax, practically as cool as Garrisonhimself. "I'll inform you that a man needs no invitation from astranger, lawyer, detective, or otherwise, to seek the presence of hiswife. And now that I've found her I demand that she come along withme!"

  Dorothy started to her feet and fled behind Garrison.

  "Please don't let him stay!" she said. "Don't let him touch me,please!"

  Garrison faced the intruder calmly.

  "I permit no one to issue orders in this office, either to me or myclients," he said. "Unless you are a far better man than I, you willdo nothing to compel this lady to depart until she wishes to do so.You will oblige me by leaving my office."

  "I'll do nothing of the sort!" answered Fairfax. "Your bluff soundsbig, but I'm here to call it, understand? Dorothy, I command you tocome."

  "I will not go with such a man as you!" she cried in a sudden burst ofanger. "You left me shamefully, half an hour after we were married!You've been no husband to me! You have only come back because youheard there might be money! I never wish to see you again!"

  "Well, you're going to hear from me, now!" said Fairfax. "As for you,Mr. Garrison, assuming my name and----"

  He was making a movement toward his pocket, throwing back his coat.

  "Drop that!" interrupted Garrison. He had drawn his revolver with aquickness that was startling. "Up with your hand!"

  Fairfax halted his impulse. His hand hung oscillating at the edge ofhis coat. A ghastly pallor overspread his face. His eyes took on alook of supernatural brightness. His mouth dropped open. He croucheda trifle forward, staring fixedly at the table. His hand had fallen athis side. He began to whisper:

  "His brains are scattered everywhere, I see them--seethem--everywhere--everywhere!" His hand came up before his eyes, thefingers spread like talons. He cried out brokenly, and, turningabruptly, hastened through the door, and they heard him running downthe hall.

  Dorothy had turned very white. She looked at Garrison almost wildly.

  "That's exactly what he said before," she said, "when he pushed me fromthe train and ran away."

  "What does it mean?" said Garrison, tense with emotion. "What have youdone to me, Dorothy? He isn't your husband, after all?"

  Dorothy sank once more in the chair. She looked at Garrisonappealingly.

  "I married him," she moaned. "He's crazy!"

  Garrison, too, sat down. His pistol he dropped in his pocket.

  "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "I was afraid," she confessed. "I thought you wouldn't consent tobe--to be--what you have been."

  "Of course I wouldn't," Garrison responded. "What have I got myselfinto? Why did you do it?"

  "I had to," she answered weakly. "Please don't scold me now--even ifyou have to desert me." Her voice broke in one convulsive sob, but shemastered herself sharply. "I'll go," she added, struggling to herfeet. "I didn't mean to get you into all this----"

  "Dorothy, sit down," he interrupted, rising instantly and placing hishand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean it--didn't mean what I said. Ishan't desert you. I love you--I love you, Dorothy!"

  She turned one hurt look upon him, then sank on the desk to cover herface.

  "Oh, don't, don't, don't!" she said. "You haven't any right----"

  "Forgive me," he pleaded. "I didn't intend to let you know. I didn'tintend to use my position for anything like that. Forgive me--forgetwhat I said--and let me serve you as I have before, with no thought ofanything but--earning the money, my fee."

  He turned away, striking his fist in his palm, and went across to thewindow.

  For nearly five minutes neither spoke. Dorothy, torn by emotions toogreat to be longer restrained, had controlled her sobs almostimmediately, but she had not dared to raise her eyes. She sat up atlast, and with gaze averted from the figure against the square oflight, composed herself as best she might.

  "What is there we can do?" she said at last. "If you wish to bereleased from yo
ur--your position----"

  "We won't talk of that," he interrupted, still looking out on the roofsbelow. "I'm in this to stay--till you dismiss me and bid me forgetit--forget it and you--forever. But I need your help."

  "I have made it very hard, I know," she said. "If I've acteddeceitfully, it was the only way I thought I could do."

  "Please tell me about this man Fairfax," he requested, keeping his backtoward her as before. "You married him, where?"

  "At Rockbeach, Massachusetts."

  She was businesslike again.

  "To satisfy the condition in your uncle's will?"

  "No," the confession came slowly, but she made it with courage. "I hadknown him for quite a long time. He had--he had courted me a year. Hewas always a gentleman, cultured, refined, and fascinating in manyways. I thought I was in--I thought I was fond of him, very. He wasbrilliant--and romantic--and possessed of many qualities that appealedto me strongly. I'm quite sure now he exercised some spell uponme--but he was kind--and I believed him--that's all."

  "Who married you?"

  "A justice of the peace."

  "Why not a minister?"

  "Mr. Fairfax preferred the justice."

  Garrison remained by the window stubbornly.

  "You said the man is crazy. What did you mean?"

  "Didn't you see?" she answered. "That light in his eyes is insanity.I thought it a soul-light shining through, though it worried me often,I admit. We were married at two in the afternoon and went at once tothe station to wait there for the train. He bought the tickets andtalked in his brilliant way until the train arrived. It only stoppedfor a moment.

  "He put me on, then a spell came over him suddenly, I don't know what,and he pushed me off the steps, just as the train was moving out--andsaid the very thing you heard him say in here--and rode away and leftme there, deserted."

  She told it all in a dry-voiced way that cost her an effort, asGarrison felt and comprehended. He had turned about, in sheer sympathyfor her predicament.

  "What happened then?"

  "I saw in a paper, two days later, he had been detained in a town inOhio as being mentally unbalanced. In the meantime I had written to myUncle John, while we were waiting at the station, telling him briefly Iwas married and to whom. The note was posted not five minutes before apostman came along and took up the letters in the box. I couldn't havestopped it had I wished to, and it never occurred to my mind to stopit, anyway."

  "What did your uncle reply?"

  "He wrote at once that he was thoroughly pleased. He had long hoped Imight marry someone other than Theodore. He confessed that his willcontained a clause to the effect that I should inherit no more thanfive thousand dollars, should I not have been married at least onemonth prior to his death, to a healthy, respectable man who was not mycousin.

  "I dared not write that I had been deserted, or that Mr. Fairfax mightbe insane. I couldn't tell what to do. I hardly knew what to expect,or what I was, or anything. I could only pretend I was off on myhoneymoon--and wait. Then came uncle's sudden death, and my lawyersent me word about the will, asking when he should file it for probate.Then--then I knew I had to have a _sane_ husband."

  "And the will is not yet filed?"

  "Not yet. And fortunately Mr. Trowbridge has had to be away."

  Garrison pursued the topic of the will for purposes made necessary byhis recent discoveries concerning a new one.

  "Mr. Trowbridge had your uncle's testament in his keeping?"

  Dorothy shook her head. "No. I believe he conferred with uncle'slawyer, just after his death, and read it there."

  "Where did your uncle's lawyer live?"

  "In Albany."

  "Do you know his name?"

  "I think it is Spikeman. Why?"

  Garrison was looking at her again with professional coldness, despitethe fact that his heart was fairly burning in his breast.

  "Because," he said, "I learned from your stepbrother, Paul Durgin, nearRockdale, that your uncle made a later will, and we've got to get traceof the document before you can know where you stand."

  Dorothy looked at him with her great brown eyes as startled as a deer's.

  "Another will!" she said. "I may have lost everything, after all!What in the world would become of Foster then--and Alice?"

  "And yourself?" added Garrison.

  "Oh, it doesn't make the least difference about me," she answered inher bravery--bravery that made poor Garrison love her even more thanbefore, "but they all depend so much upon me! Tell me, please, whatdid you find out about Foster?"

  "Not a great deal," Garrison confessed. "This new will business was mymost important discovery. Nevertheless, I confirmed your story of aman whom your uncle greatly feared. His name, it seems, is HiramCleave."

  "That's the name! That's the man!" cried Dorothy. "I remember now!He once pinched my face till I cried."

  "You have seen him, then? What sort of a looking being is he?"

  "I don't remember much--only the horrid grin upon his face. I was onlya child--and that impressed me. You didn't hear anything of Foster?"

  "Not of his whereabouts--quite a bit concerning his character, none ofit particularly flattering."

  "I don't know where in the world he can be," said Dorothy. "PoorAlice! What are we going to do now, with all these new complications?"

  "Do the best we can," said Garrison. "Aside from the will, and my workon the murder of your uncle, a great deal depends upon yourself, andyour desires."

  Dorothy looked at him in silence for a moment. A slight flush came toher face.

  She said: "In what respect?"

  Garrison had no intention of mincing matters now. He assumed ahardness of aspect wholly incompatible with his feelings.

  "In respect to Mr. Fairfax," he answered. "He will doubtlessreturn--dog your footsteps--make himself known to the Robinsons, andotherwise keep us entertained."

  She met his gaze as a child might have done.

  "What can I do? I've depended so much upon you. I don't like to asktoo much--after this--or ever---- You've been more than kind. Ididn't mean to be so helpless--or to wound your feelings, or----"

  A knock at the door interrupted, and Tuttle entered the room.