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. Furthermore——"
Garrison interrupted, addressing Dorothy:
"They think they have discovered something important or vital in the fact that I sometimes use the name Garrison. And they have managed to steal an old letter——"
"I'll tell about the letter, if you please!" cried old Robinson shrilly. He turned to Dorothy, who was very white. "There you are!" he said, waving the letter before her face. "There's the letter from his sweetheart—the woman he asked to become his wife! Here's her acceptance, and her protestations of love. She is doubtless his wife at this moment! Read it for yourself!"
He thrust it into Dorothy's hand with aggressive insistence.
Dorothy received it obediently. She hardly knew what she should say or do to confute the old man's statements, or quiet his dangerous suspicions. His arrival at the truth concerning herself and Garrison had disconcerted her utterly.
Garrison did not attempt to take the letter, but he addressed her promptly: