ain. At length came a
softer, more musical greeting. It was Dorothy. His heart was
instantly leaping at the sound of her voice.

"Hello! Is that someone to speak to me?" she said. "This is Mrs.
Fairfax."

"Yes," answered Garrison. "This is Jerold. I felt I must find out
about you--how you are. I've been distressed at the way I was obliged
to leave."

"Oh!" said the voice faintly. "I--I'm all right--thank you. I must
see you--right away." Her voice had sunk to a tone he could barely
distinguish. "Where are you now?"

"Downtown," said Garrison. "Where shall I meet you?"

"I--hardly know," came the barely audible reply. "Perhaps--at Central
Park and Ninety-third Street."

"I'll start at once," he assured her. "If you leave the house in
fifteen minutes we shall arrive about the same time. Try to avoid
being followed. Good-by."

He listened to hear her answer, but it did not come. He heard the
distant receiver clink against its hook, and then the connection was
broken.

He was happy, in a wild, lawless manner, as he left the place and
hastened to the Elevated station. The prospect of meeting Dorothy once
more, in the warm, fragrant night, at a tryst like that of lovers, made
his pulses surge and his heart beat quicken with excitement. All
thought of her possible connection with the Branchville crime had fled.

The train could not run fast enough to satisfy his hot impatience. He
wished to be there beneath the trees when she should presently come.
He alighted at last at the Ninety-third Street station, and hastened to
the park.

When he came to the appointed place, he found an entrance to the
greenery near by. Within were people on every bench in sight--New
York's unhoused lovers, whose wooing is accomplished in the all but
sylvan glades which the park affords.

Here and there a bit of animated flame made a tiny meteor streak
against the blackness of the foliage--where a firefly quested for its
mate, switching on its marvelous little searchlight. Beyond, on the
smooth, broad roadways, four-eyed chariots of power shot silently
through the avenues of trees--the autos, like living dragons, half
tamed to man's control.

It was all thrilling and exciting to Garrison, with the expectation of
meeting Dorothy now possessing all his nature. Then--a few great drops
of rain began to fall. The effect was almost instantaneous. A dozen
pairs of sweethearts, together with as many more unmated strag