GARRISON'S VALUED FRIEND
Dorothy, catching up the precious will, had retreated from Theodore's advance. She made no effort to greet him, even with so much as a nod.
"I thought I might possibly find you both, and save a little time," said Robinson, striding in boldly, with no sign of removing his hat. "Seems I hit it off about right."
"Charmingly," said Garrison. "Won't you sit down and take off your hat and stay a while?"
"You sound cheerful," said Theodore, drawing forth a chair and seating himself in comfort. "Perhaps you realize the game is up at last."
"Yes," agreed Garrison. "I think we do—but it's good of you to come and accept our notice, I'm sure."
"I didn't come to accept notice—I came to give it," said young Robinson self-confidently. "I've recently returned from Rockbeach, where I went to investigate your so-called marriage."
He had seen or heard nothing of Fairfax; that was obvious.
"Well?" said Garrison. "Proceed."
"That's about enough, ain't it?" said Theodore. "The marriage having been a fraud, what's the use of beating around the bush? If you care to fix it up on decent terms, I'll make no attempt to break the will when it comes up for probate, but otherwise I'll smash your case to splinters."