the cave, for, like rats, they preferred the security best found
underground. They did not lead Flint very far.

At the edge of the Brent estate there was an Italian marble fountain
decorated with bronze dolphins and water-nymphs disporting themselves.
It was at this fountain that the men halted Flint and, with a final
warning, left him.

For a few moments, such was his fear, Flint did not remove the bandage
from his eyes, but moved groping around until his hand came in contact
with the edge of the fountain. For a moment he stood quietly, listening
for sounds of the emissaries. Then, as he heard nothing, he tore the
bandage from his eyes, gazed wonderingly around him until his mind
grasped his exact location, then, with a bound, started to run toward
Brent Rock.

Had he noticed the bestial face of an emissary peering from the
shrubbery he would have been even more frightened. Retribution, he would
have known, would be swift and sure had he disregarded their commands
and moved in another direction.

As Flint left the fountain Balcom, suave and well groomed as usual, was
just giving his hat and stick to the butler when Locke and Eva,
returning from Flint's room, encountered him in the hallway.

"Oh, Mr. Balcom," exclaimed Eva, "Mr. Locke and I are at a loss to
account for Mr. Flint's disappearance! I told the gardeners, and they
have hunted for him all over the estate and beyond, but he has
disappeared as completely as though the ground had swallowed him."

Balcom expressed his utmost astonishment and at once insisted on going
to Flint's room to solve the mystery himself.

Eva and Locke went directly into the library, where Locke for the first
time had an opportunity to tell Eva the result of his visit to the
chemist. The fact that they had discovered the nature of the toxin was
in itself encouraging, and Eva felt that, even now, she could see the
glimmer of a silver lining to the clouds.

"If we can only locate Mr. Flint, Quentin," she murmured, "I feel that
much would be explained."

Hardly had the words passed her lips when, breathless and disheveled,
Flint staggered up the stairs from under the porte-cochere and into the
hallway. Balcom, just descending from his brief inspection of Flint's
room, hailed him.

"What has happened?" he demanded. "Don't go into the library."

"I've just escaped from the Automaton," shouted Flint, "and I've found
the antidote!"

Before Balcom could stop him he rushed into the library, Balcom
following in a towering rage. Eva gave a startled little cry at the wild
intrusion and Locke moved closer to her.

"Is the antidote that will restore your father's reason worth ten
thousand dollars to you?" demanded Flint; then, before Eva could reply,
added: "Speak quick! I've got to get out of the country to-night."

"Ten thousand!" gasped Eva. "Ten times ten thousand! Tell me what it
is."

"Show me the money first," haggled Flint, "and remember I must have the
hard cash."

"Just a moment, Eva," interrupted Locke. "Consider this thing well. We
can deal with this fellow as a final resort."

Eva looked from Locke to Balcom, her mind in a turmoil, as the
telephone-bell rang and Locke hurried to answer it.

In the room now there was a conflict of emotions and desires that fairly
electrified the place. Eva ardently craved her father's recovery at all
costs. Flint's avaricious mind wavered between a scheme nearing success
and the possibility of failure and the fear of the Automaton. Balcom
strained to hear the purport of the message that Locke was receiving.

At the sound of the chemist's voice Locke was tense with suppressed
excitement.

"I've found the antidote," hastened to report the professor.

With a cordial word of thanks Locke turned from the telephone and faced
the group in the room. As he made the announcement, Eva almost embraced
him in the flood of relief at the thought of her father restored.

"Eva," growled Balcom, "you forget yourself. As Paul's father, I cannot
countenance such actions."

"Mr. Balcom," interrupted Locke, "I am sure you will be kind in your
criticism of Miss Brent. She has merely overrated my service to her."

"Paul shall hear of this," stormed Balcom.

"If your son cares to take the matter up with me," returned Locke, now
on his dignity, "I am always to be found--here."

"Never mind," interposed Flint, who feared to see his chance slipping,
"I've got to get out of the country. Mr. Locke, your antidote is
probably valueless; mine is the certain one. Look at me, Miss Brent. Am
I not cured?"

"You miserable sneak," scowled Locke, stepping over to him, "we don't
need your assistance now."

"I'm dealing with Miss Brent," insisted Flint, insolently.

Eva, a bit nervous over Balcom's overbearing manner, interposed. "Mr.
Locke," she said, with just a touch of dignity for effect on Balcom,
"this is a matter of life and death, and I am not in favor of permitting
a proven antidote to be taken out of the country by this--this man. I
have every confidence in you, but suppose--just suppose--that your
chemist friend is mistaken."

Flint immediately saw his advantage and pressed it home. "Are you going
to let ten thousand dollars stand in the way of your father's recovery?"
he insinuated. "Here," he added, taking pencil and paper from his pocket
and writing hurriedly.

"Baker's dock," Eva read, as he handed her the paper, "until five
o'clock."

Flint bowed decently enough to her, glanced upward, and, as he thought
of Eva's father lying stricken with the Madagascar madness in the room
above, an evil leer came over his fox-like face. As he left he
completely ignored both Locke and Balcom, unless it was that the look in
his eyes meant a sort of sinister triumph.

Locke followed him out of the library, and for a few moments Eva and
Balcom were alone.

Balcom had been quick to realize that it would not further his plans if
he continued to antagonize this high-spirited girl. He took another
course. The kind and fatherly manner which he could assume so readily
was now apparent.

"Eva, my dear child," he ingratiated, "I am really sorry for the hasty
way in which I spoke, but, aside from our duty to International Patents,
your marriage to my son has been my greatest hope and ambition."

"I can't see why you should wish a daughter-in-law of whose actions you
disapprove," retorted Eva, pointedly.

It was a facer for Balcom and he quickly guided the conversation into
less dangerous channels.

Eva's candid nature could not comprehend treachery of any kind in
others, and yet, although she was unable to put a name to it, she had a
vague feeling of insecurity in dealing with her father's partner. This
feeling had been heightened by Balcom's actions. In speaking of the
proposed marriage to Paul he had come quite close to her. She shuddered,
for, out of the corner of her eye, only a few moments before, she
remembered him in the same position when Flint had handed her the
address, and she knew that Balcom had surreptitiously read it. Why had
he taken that underhand method when, if he had only asked frankly to see
the paper, she would have handed it to him without hesitation or
suspicion.

Eva started to leave the library, but Balcom stopped her with a gesture.
"My dear," he said, "your father is stricken with a deadly malady. His
affairs are in your hands to protect his interests. I must urge that you
marry Paul at the earliest possible moment."

Eva scarcely knew what to say. "I can't," she blurted out, then tried to
cover her confusion and made it worse, "only--as a last resort--to save
my father--Oh--good-by!" And she almost ran from the room.



CHAPTER IX


Meanwhile, as Flint left Brent Rock, his fear of the Automaton returned
to him with redoubled force. He had been false to his mission. Nor had
he even succeeded in his treachery. A few minutes he had been certain
that Eva would come to Baker's dock at the time set, but now doubts
began to assail him. With her obvious faith in Locke, she might decide
on the chemist's antidote, and there was always a possibility that it
might restore Brent, in which case Flint realized that his life would be
forfeit to the Automaton.

Nor were his fears unfounded. He had barely passed the fountain where,
half an hour before, he had been set free, when an emissary came out
from behind a neighboring tree and took up his trail.

De Luxe Dora also had waited only long enough to see Eva and Locke enter
Brent Rock, when she turned her runabout around and drove rapidly back
to Professor Hadwell's. She arrived there just in time to meet an
automobile coming from the opposite direction and containing three
emissaries of the Automaton.

In answer to an inquiry, Dora pointed out the chemist's house to them.
They piled out, and their leader knocked at the door, while Dora drove
off.

The chemist answered, and the leader produced a vial, glibly lying as he
handed it over.

"The Williams Drug Company sent me to have this stuff analyzed," said
the leader. "I'll wait."

As the professor admitted him he did not see the other two men pressed
close to the wall on either side of the door. The moment the professor's
back was turned they slinked after their leader into the house. In a
dark corner of the hallway they crouched as their leader went into the
laboratory with the chemist.

The professor sniffed at the vial, which contained nothing but pure
water, and in surprise turned to the emissary for an explanation. But it
was too late. The emissary dealt him a blow with a blunt instrument that
stunned him and, as he reeled back and grasped at a table, the other
thugs rushed from the hall and rained blow after blow on his venerable
head and beat him to the floor. A convulsive shudder--a long-drawn-out
sigh--and he lay still.

With barely a glance at him the emissaries set to work to smash all the
paraphernalia of the place, sparing nothing in order to make sure that
the antidote would be destroyed. Glass tubes, retorts, bottles, even
furniture were smashed to bits in their orgy of ruin--and there, in the
midst of the debris, his life's work finished, lay the old chemist,
dead.

Tiring of their own efforts, the murderers at last desisted. One of them
went to the street door and peered out, but in a moment was back with
the others.

"Quick--that fellow Locke is coming."

He was right. Locke had immediately quit Brent Rock and had come
directly to the chemist's in the hope of forestalling any further
attempt by Flint to inveigle Eva into dealing with him.

The door had been left ajar and, although he thought it strange, Locke
was without suspicion and entered the hallway. He called to his old
friend, but the dead lips could not answer and the emissaries would not.

Greatly alarmed now, Locke strode to the laboratory. For a moment he
stood as though petrified as the horrid scene burst upon his vision. He
ran to the chemist and knelt beside his battered body.

With a rush the emissaries darted from their hiding-place and were upon
him.

Although taken unawares, Locke was, in a measure, ready for them. One he
grabbed in a clever jiu-jitsu hold and sent him hurtling through the air
to crash in a heap in a far corner of the room. Leaping to his feet, he
beat another to the floor. The third villain was of tougher fiber. Up
and down the laboratory they battled, stumbling over broken furniture,
now falling to the floor, where they rolled over and over, first one,
then the other gaining the mastery, while the broken glass with which
the floor was littered cut their clothing to ribbons and bit into their
flesh.

Locke was slowly gaining the upper hand when the thug whom he had thrown
over his head recovered. The brute took the situation in at a glance,
saw his pal in trouble, and, sneaking treacherously behind Locke, dealt
him a terrific blow with the butt of a revolver. Locke dropped to the
floor as if pole-axed and lay still.

One of the thugs kicked him as he lay defenseless, and then, spying a
row of coat-hooks in an inner hallway, with fiendish ingenuity directed
the others who had joined him. They strung Locke up by his thumbs so
that he hung, half suspended, with his toes just off the floor.

As one of them searched him Locke was still unconscious. They found
nothing but a few bank-notes and the automatic revolver that Locke
always carried.

Slowly Locke regained his senses. The agony of his strained thumbs was
almost unbearable. But he was not the man to give up.

By this time two of the emissaries had gone, leaving one, who seated
himself quite close to Locke, where he was examining the revolver. With
the stoicism of an Indian, Locke manfully tried to evolve a plan by
which he might escape. Like a flash it came to him, but it was a plan so
fraught with the possibility of failure that he would not have decided
on it except for the agony of the strain on his thumbs.

Directly opposite him and at a distance of four or five feet was a door
leading to a back alley. This door the emissary now guarding him had
locked as a precaution against surprise and had carefully placed the key
in his vest pocket.

Locke weighed each detail of his plan and then, bracing his feet firmly
against the wall, he suddenly shot his lower limbs forward and, like the
closing of a pair of giant shears, he wrapped his legs about the neck of
the emissary and immediately exerted enormous pressure with his knees.

The emissary, taken totally by surprise, struggled to break the hold,
and Locke's thumbs were almost wrenched from their sockets. But he held
on grimly. Soon the thug's struggles subsided, Locke released him, and
he slipped to the floor.

Locke was wearing a low-cut shoe. Strange that a man's life may hinge on
such a slight detail, but this fact enabled him to work off his right
shoe and his sock. He extended his bare foot, and with his toes searched
the pocket of the emissary for the key to the door. Finally he found it.

Locke held the key as firmly as he might between his toes and,
projecting his body by a muscular effort far away from the wall, he
managed to insert the key in the lock. He turned it. The door was
unlocked now. A swift downward movement of his foot against the knob and
the door swung open.

He braced himself against its edge and, with his back firmly pressed
against the wall, relieved the strain on his thumbs. He rested a moment
and then, as it were, walked up the edge of the door until his feet
reached the top. Swinging one leg over the door, by patient effort he
was enabled to release one swollen thumb, then the other. An instant
later he dropped down and leaned exhaustedly against the wall.

While Locke was held in the room things had happened which would have
set him nearly crazy with anxiety. Eva, having heard nothing from him,
had become alarmed and had telephoned to the chemist. This was at
quarter to five, and she had supposed that it was the chemist who
answered her. In reality it had been an emissary, and he had told her
that the final experiment to find an antidote for her father's malady
had been really a failure and that Locke had left some time before.

After all that she had endured, this was almost the final blow to Eva.
She thought of Flint and Baker's dock and five o'clock. There was no
time to lose if she were to save her father. So she pulled herself
together, seized her hat and cloak, and started for the door.

Here Zita stopped her and offered to accompany her, but she declined.
She hastily asked the direction of Baker's dock from the butler, and
then ran out of the house and sprang to the steering-wheel of her
waiting car. With a whir of the starter she was away.

Flint had arrived at the dock long before and was now slinking in and
out among the crates and boxes as he sought diligently for a safe
hiding-place. But his nerves, none too strong at the best, were now
running riot, and nowhere could he feel a sense of security so that he
could remain quiet.

It was while he was sneaking from one pile of bales to another that an
emissary hailed him.

"Are you Flint?" he demanded.

"Y-e-s," came quaveringly from Flint.

"Well, there's a lady in the office asking for you."

Such was the fascination of any of the emissaries of the Automaton over
Flint by this time that he followed the man without question,
particularly as he felt that he would be spared, since the lady in the
office could be none other than Eva.

Together they walked toward the entrance and, with an order to wait, the
emissary halted Flint close to a pile of crates and left him. Flint
dared not move. A premonition of impending disaster must have come over
him, for his knees shook and a clammy sweat broke out on his forehead.

Without sound a gigantic iron hand and arm protruded from behind a crate
and, for a moment, hung suspended over Flint's head. Then, with a swift
encircling movement, that hooklike arm wrapped itself around Flint's
neck and drew him into the shadow. The mighty form drew the victim
close--and it was over.

The Automaton picked up the body as though it had been a mere
feather-weight and stalked out to the waiting emissaries. A trap-door
was opened and Flint's body was dashed into the river. Thus it was that
all his scheming came to an end and his secret from Madagascar, which he
had told Brent, but which now lay locked in that mad-man's mind, was
stilled with Flint's dead lips.

At the chemist's shop Locke was by this time recovering from the
terrible ordeal through which he had passed. He bathed his swollen
thumbs, and by rubbing them was able somewhat to restore the
circulation. Then he stepped to the telephone and gave the Brent Rock
number.

It was Zita who answered him.

"Eva has gone alone to Baker's dock," she answered to his inquiry, in
half-triumphant jealousy.

Locke did not wait to hear more. There was not a moment to be lost. He
rushed out, disheveled as he was, into the street, slamming the door
after him. It seemed hours before he could find a taxicab.

"Baker's dock!" he yelled. "And twenty dollars if you make it in ten
minutes."

He did not know that the emissaries had robbed him of everything, nor
would it have made any difference, for he could easily have fixed it
with the driver through his police and Secret Service connections.

In the mean time Eva's car had met with misfortune, and she had been
compelled to stop. She jumped out and busied herself with a missing
cylinder.

Locke's taxi was running smoothly and arrived at the dock well within
the time he had ordered. Locke jumped out and started to pay. It was
then that he discovered that he was without money. The driver became
angry and hard to pacify with the story of the robbery, but Locke
finally convinced him that all was right with the Department of Justice.

Locke walked through the gates to the dock and for a moment stood
nonplussed. This dock had none of the turmoil and bustle naturally
associated with docks when a steamer is about to leave.

He cautiously proceeded between the piles of merchandise toward the end
of the wharf. Of one thing he was now certain and a prayer of relief
came to his lips. He was there before Eva and able to guard her from any
danger that might arise.

His eyes were keen, but he failed to notice the emissaries who, from
behind crates and bales, were watching his every move. Nor did he see
that fiend of iron, the Automaton, which, standing rigid, glared at him
from behind an enormous packing-case.

He continued down the wharf as, slinking like coyotes, those sinister
forms glided from hiding-place to hiding-place and were never far from
his heels. He reached the end of the wharf and gazed up and down the
dark river. Here and there he could distinguish the colored lights that
marked a tugboat or some other small craft, but of a large steamer there
was no sign. It is rarely that a boat warps into a dock just a few
moments before leaving for foreign parts, and it flashed upon Locke's
mind that Flint had deceived them about his leaving for Madagascar that
night.

He was still wondering what it could all mean when the emissaries leaped
upon him. Although weakened by his previous battle, Locke proved no easy
customer for them. Time after time he struggled free from them and with
arms working like piston-rods for a while he kept them at a distance.
But, like a pack of wolves, they were not to be denied, and they finally
succeeded in holding him firmly.

One of them brought leg-irons which he snapped around Locke's ankles.
Once again Locke managed to get one of his arms free and, before they
could prevent him, two emissaries lay prostrate on the wharf. But that
effort marked his last, for the Automaton, stalking up behind him,
pinioned his arms as though he was a baby.

An emissary now placed a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and, to bind
him more securely, fastened a chain that extended from the handcuffs to
the leg-irons.

Two of the thugs now carried him to the edge of the wharf, while a third
attached a heavy weight to Locke's feet. Locke realized his
helplessness, realized that his death was imminent. But he determined to
rid the world of at least one murderer. By a mighty effort he shook off
his captors and, as one rushed forward, he grabbed him in his manacled
hands and leaped with him into the river as they grappled.

At the shore end of the wharf an emissary was leading Eva, as she
thought, to Flint.

Locke and the thug sank immediately to the bottom of the river and,
under water, there ensued a terrific battle. Locke, semi-helpless
because of his shakles, had the greatest difficulty in preventing the
thug from breaking loose. But he was determined that the fellow at least
would pay for his crimes with his life.

The thug's struggles gradually became more feeble. Air bubbles rose from
his bestial lips and he became limp in Locke's grasp. Locke released him
and, feet first, he floated upward, dead.

Locke's lungs were almost bursting now as he struggled at his chains;
his senses reeled; he thought of Eva, and redoubled his efforts. If he
could only get rid of that great weight that was holding him down. A
singing came in his ears.



CHAPTER X


As Eva hurried down the dock, looking for the renegade, Flint she found
herself cornered between the emissary and the terrible Automaton
himself. With a scream of terror she ran until she came to a door that
divided the dock into fireproof sections. Through it she darted, the
Automaton following relentlessly.

Meanwhile Locke, his lungs almost bursting and the blood surging to his
head, had managed to free himself from his shackles and had floated to
the surface of the water. As he came up he swam to the piles of the dock
just as several boatmen saw him and hurried to his aid.

They heard the screams of Eva, and all started running up the dock, but
not in time to capture the Automaton, who, warned by the emissaries,
crashed through the side of the dock house nearest the shore and
escaped.

A moment later Locke, searching through the piles of boxes, bales, and
crates, found Eva, just recovering from her fright, and in the joy of
having saved her by his timely return forgot, for the moment, to pursue
the terrible villain, who managed to reach a waiting closed car and was
whisked away.

Thus it was that after their return to Brent Rock, on the following day
Eva was ministering to her father, still hopelessly insane through the
failure to discover the antidote to the madness.

While Eva was engaged in her ministrations up-stairs Locke was finishing
some experiment in his laboratory. Down-stairs, Balcom had just arrived
in the hall, where he was met by Zita with a report of what had happened
the day before.

"Tell it to me in the strong-room while I place this package there,"
Balcom whispered, indicating the package which he had brought.

Together Balcom and Zita descended to the cellar and made their way to
the Graveyard of Genius as Zita poured forth her story, unmindful of the
fact that the butler had seen them go down and was watching very
skeptically. In the Graveyard Balcom unwrapped a small model of a motor
and placed it on the shelf.

Eva, having left her father, came upon Locke in the hall, and there they
stood talking for a moment, when the butler approached apologetically.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Brent," he reported, "but I just saw Mr.
Balcom go down to the strong-room with Miss Zita, and I thought you
might like to know."

"Thank you," nodded Eva, dismissing the butler and trying to show no
concern in the matter.

But Locke shot a quick glance at her as the servant left, and it was
evident that both felt the same suspicion, for Locke immediately excused
himself and hurried down-stairs.

In the Graveyard Balcom and Zita were talking in subdued tones as Zita
whispered.

"I suppose you know," she nodded, "that before Mr. Brent went mad he
wrote a confession with a list of these inventions which International
Patents has suppressed?"

Balcom could scarcely conceal his rage. "Yes, I know it," he replied,
savagely. "That confession would cause a great deal of trouble."

Low as they were talking, they would have been even more careful had
they known that Locke was listening outside and that, even as they
turned to leave the strong-room, he had sidled out of the way and was
rejoining Eva in the library.

Locke had scarcely told Eva what he had heard when she moved over to the
safe and would have tried to open it had he not stopped her. For he had
heard the other two coming from the cellar, and even as it was they were
at the hall door.

"My dear," remarked Balcom as he entered and went to Eva, "since your
father is not likely to recover, I must ask you to transfer all the
company papers from his private safe to the office of the company."

Eva did not respond to the fatherly manner assumed by Balcom. Instead
she almost point-blank refused to do as he had requested.

Just then Locke, whom Balcom had almost ignored up to the present, heard
the noise of some one coming through the conservatory. It was Paul
Balcom, his coat on his arm, his sleeves rolled up, and a tennis-racquet
in his hand, as he had come just from the courts.

Paul glanced surlily at Locke, who bowed pleasantly to him, as well he
might, considering their relative positions in Eva's real affections.
Catching sight of his father with Eva, Paul paused a moment.

It was just at that instant that Balcom had been saying to her: "Why
don't you marry Paul, as you promised your father and me? That would
settle all the difficulties."

Paul had suspected the nature of the conversation, though he approached
as if ignorant of it. Apparently catching the drift, he deftly urged
her, but Eva tactfully changed the subject, greatly to Paul's chagrin
and his father's ill-suppressed anger.

The suspense of the situation was relieved for Eva by the nearer
approach of Locke, who must have had some inkling of what was going on.
Paul and his father exchanged glances as the young chemist and detective
joined Eva, and it was evident that no love toward him was wasted by
either.

"Excuse me," she apologized, walking away with Locke, "but there is
something very important that I must attend to for my father's
interests."

Locke and Eva walked to the safe, while Balcom and Paul watched like
hawks.

A moment later Eva was kneeling before the safe, after giving Locke a
paper which contained the combination numbers to open the bolts. Locke
glanced at it, then held it where Eva could read:

Combination of Safe
Turn once left to 40
Three right to 18
Once left to 40

As Locke held the paper and Eva's slender hand spun the combination
lock, Balcom and Paul moved silently forward. Although Locke was holding
the paper with the combinations for Eva, he heard them come up behind
him and knew that they were watching. With a quiet smile to himself he
moved the paper over so that they could see it, nor were they slow to
take advantage of the chance. Locke's mind was working fast, and he had
a purpose in what seemed to be carelessness or even foolishness.

A moment later Eva opened the safe and from it she took a typewritten
document of many pages.

It read:

BOARD OF DIRECTORS,

International Patents, Inc.,
New York.

GENTLEMEN,--In view of the government's anti-trust investigation,
I have prepared this list of inventions we have suppressed.
I think we should discuss at our annual meeting
the advisability of surrendering our rights to these inventions,
no matter what may happen to the corporations we have
been protecting.

Very truly yours,

PETER BRENT.

Following this letter was a bulky paper, or rather set of papers, which
detailed the inventions and their history, exposing some of the
nefarious operations of the corporation.

Balcom, as he read the top letter, showed great agitation. As Locke took
the package from Eva, Balcom interrupted:

"That's very dangerous," he said. "If it gets out, the corporations are
ruined."

Locke scarcely replied. Instead, he very ostentatiously replaced the
document in the safe, refusing to intrust it either to Balcom or to
Paul, who withdrew sullenly, leaving Eva alone with Locke in the library
as Locke whirled the combination of the closed safe door.

It was perhaps half an hour later in the secret den of the Automaton in
the rock-hewn foundation of Brent Rock that the emissaries were watching
the arched and dark passage. Suddenly there was the warning clank, and
the huge steel monster strode in.

For some time he stood before the table, giving his instructions by
means of mysterious, cryptic motions.

Meantime, above in Brent Rock, Locke had been busy, for he had conceived
an entirely new plan to capture the Automaton. It was nothing short of
an electric trap, and deadly in its simplicity.

From the wall switch Locke had led wires carrying the house current.