It was late in the afternoon, while Garrick was still busy with a high-powered
microscope, making innumerable micro-photographs, when the door of the office
opened softly and a young lady entered.
As she advanced timidly to us, we could see that she was tall and gave promise
of developing with years into a stately woman--a pronounced brunette, with
sparkling black eyes. I had not met her before, yet somehow I could not escape
the feeling that she was familiar to me.
It was not until she spoke that I realized that it was the eyes, not the face, which I
"You are Mr. Garrick?" she asked of Guy in a soft, purring voice which, I felt,
masked a woman who would fight to the end for anyone or anything she really
Then, before Guy could answer, she explained, "I am Miss Violet Winslow. A
friend of mine, Mr. Warrington, has told me that you are investigating a peculiar
case for him--the strange loss of his car."
Garrick hastened to place a chair for her in the least cluttered and dusty part of
the room. There she sat, looking up at him earnestly, a dainty contrast to the den
in which Garrick was working out the capture of criminals, violent and vicious.
"I have the honor to be able to say, 'Yes' to all that you have asked, Miss
Winslow," he replied. "Is there any way in which I can be of service to you?"
I thought a smile played over his face at the thought that perhaps she might have
come to ask him to work for three clients instead of two.