aid 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 role 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
w