Dorothy gave a little cry and fled behind the desk.
Garrison faced the intruder, a tall, flaxen-haired, blue-eyed man with a long mustache—a person with every mark of the gentleman upon him.
"Well, sir," said Garrison, in some indignation, "what can I do for you?"
"We'll wait a minute and see," said the stranger. "My name is Jerold
Fairfax, 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 wife and I'd like to know what it means, you or somebody else passing yourself off in my place!"
Garrison still looked at Dorothy.
"This isn't true, what the man is saying?" he inquired.