ried the old man, snatching it out of his reach.
"I'll keep this, if you please, to show my niece."

Garrison's eyes glittered.

"So, it was _your_ hired thief who stole it, up at Branchville?" he
said. "I don't suppose he showed you the skin that he left behind from
his fingers."

"That's got nothing to do with the point!" the old man cried at him
triumphantly. "I don't believe you are married to my niece. If you
think you can play your game on me----"

Garrison interrupted.

"The theft of that letter was a burglary in which you are involved.
You are laying up trouble for yourself very rapidly. Give that letter
to me!"

"Give it up, hey? We'll see!" said Robinson. "Take it to court if you
dare! I'm willing. This letter shows that another woman accepted you,
and _that's_ the point you don't dare face in the law!"

Whatever else he discerned in the case. Garrison did not understand in
the least how Dorothy could have summoned him back here for this.

"That letter is an old one," he replied to Robinson calmly. "Look at
the date. It's a bit of ancient history, long since altered."

"There is no date!" the old man shrilled in glee; and he was right.

Garrison's reply was never uttered. The door behind him abruptly
opened, and there stood Dorothy, radiant with color and beauty.

"Why, Jerold!" she cried. "Why, when did you come? I didn't even know
you were in town."

She ran to him ardently, as she had before, with her perfect art, and
kissed him with wifely affection.

CHAPTER XI

THE SHOCK OF TRUTH

For one second only Garrison was a trifle confused. Then he gave her
the roses he had brought.

She carried them quickly to the table, hiding her face in their
fragrant petals.

"Just a moment, Dorothy," said Garrison. "You didn't know I'd come to
town? You wired----" He halted and looked at the Robinsons. "Oh," he
added, "I think I begin to see."

Dorothy felt something in the air.

"What is it, Jerold?" she said. "I haven't wired. What do you mean?"

Garrison faced the Robinsons.

"I mean that these two _gentlemen_ telegraphed me at Branchville to
come here at once--and signed your name to the wire."

"Telegraphed you? In my name?" repeated Dorothy. "I don't believe I
understand."

"We may as well understand things first as last," said her uncle. "I
don't believe this man is your husband! I don't believe his name is
Fairfax! He was registered as Garrison. Further