ost no relatives
in the world. I have no father, mother, brothers, or sisters. There
will be, at most, a few distant relatives and possibly my lawyer."

Garrison made no response. He was trying to think what such a game
would mean--and what it might involve.

His visitor presently added:

"Do you consent--for five hundred dollars?"

"I don't know," answered the man. Again he paced the room. When he
halted before his client he looked at her sternly.

"You haven't told me your name," he said.

She gave him her card, on which appeared nothing more than just merely
the name "Mrs. Jerold Fairfax," with an address in an uptown West Side
street.

Garrison glanced at it briefly.

"This is something you have provided purposely to fit your
requirements," he said. "Am I not supposed to know you by any other
name?"

"If you accept the--the employment," she answered, once more blushing
crimson, "you may be obliged at times to call me Dorothy. My maiden
name was Dorothy Booth."

Garrison merely said: "Oh!"

They were silent for a moment. The man was pondering the
possibilities. His visitor was evidently anxious.

"I suppose I can find someone else if you refuse the employment," she
said. "But you will understand that my search is one of great
difficulty. The person I employ must be loyal, a gentleman,
courageous, resourceful, and very little known. You can see yourself
that you are particularly adapted for the work."

"Thank you," said Garrison, who was aware that no particular flattery
was intended. He added: "I hardly suppose it could do me any harm."

Mrs. Fairfax accepted this ungallant observation calmly. She
recognized the fact that his side of the question had its aspects.

She waited for Garrison to speak again.

A knock at the door startled them both. A postman entered, dropped two
letters on the desk, and departed down the hall.

Garrison took up the letters. One was a circular of his own, addressed
to a lawyer over a month before, and now returned undelivered and
marked "Not found," though three or four different addresses had been
supplied in its peregrinations.

The second letter was addressed to himself in typewritten form. He was
too engrossed to tear it open, and laid them both upon the table.

"If I took this up," he presently resumed, "I should be obliged to know
something more about it. For instance, when were we supposed to have
been married?"

"On the 10th of last mont