LITMIR.BIZ

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was about to follow, when Locke, returning from the telephone, touched him on the shoulder and shoved the threat message which Brent had given him the night before under the face of the junior partner.

      "Read that," he demanded.

      Balcom read, controlling his features admirably, if control were necessary.

      "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, coldly.

      "Were you in Madagascar lately?" shot back Locke.

      Locke could not be sure whether or not Balcom suppressed a start. At any rate, he did not conceal anger at the insinuation.

      "Certainly," he replied. "With my son I cruised through the Mozambique Channel and touched at Madagascar last summer. Why?"

      Locke nodded and the detective made a note of the reply.

      "What do you mean to insinuate by that question?" demanded Balcom.

      Without reply Locke shrugged nonchalantly and smiled.

      Not ten feet away, in the conservatory door, Paul listened, and his face darkened as he clenched his fists.

      There was a murderous glare in Paul's eyes as Locke unconcernedly withdrew, whispering to the detective, who nodded deferentially to the young scientist who had been assigned by the Department of Justice, strangely, to the very case which now he realized in some unknown way must concern himself and the very mystery of his own identity.

      So wore along the morning, with growing mystery and excitement.

      It was not long before the Brent family physician was summoned, and after a careful diagnosis pronounced Brent in a hopeless state as far as his own science was concerned. Eva was by this time more than frantic. The consolation of Paul seemed to add to her nervousness. She was almost distracted when she heard Balcom and the doctor discussing the case in low tones in her father's room.

      "Don't you think, Doctor," she overheard, "that he would be far better off in a sanitarium?"

      She shuddered as the doctor agreed with Balcom, and Balcom sought to persuade her that the course was best. Even the solicitations of Paul annoyed her. Paul was more than vexed at this new repulse from his bride-to-be. His anger knew no bounds as he caught sight of Locke, who had overheard and showed his doubt over the whole proposal for the care of Brent. He plucked at his father's sleeve and nodded toward Locke.

      Balcom needed no prompting from his crafty son.

      "I'll have you understand, Locke," he cried, his face growing apoplectic red, "that I am in charge here now. Your services are no longer required."

      "I quite understand," returned Locke, quietly. "We shall see."

      Balcom stormed down from the room to the telephone, where, a moment later, he telephoned to an asylum, asking them to send a conveyance with nurses, keepers, and whatever paraphernalia was necessary to take care of his partner, Brent.

      "Is he violent?" demanded the doctor over the telephone.

      "Yes. Bring a strait-jacket," snapped back Balcom. "And the sooner he is under your care the better."

      With that Balcom stamped out of the house.

      In Brent's room, Paul was attempting still to ingratiate himself with Eva, who was growing more distant toward him with every moment. Finally Paul could stand it no longer. He turned on his heel and faced Locke angrily in the hall.

      "You'll regret this, confound you!" he ground out, as he swung out of the room rapidly in a high state of feeling.

      Unconcernedly Locke turned on his heel.

      "Don't worry," he whispered to Eva. "I'll see that no harm comes to your father."

      For answer, her own heart too full for words, Eva pressed the hand of the young scientist. It was reward enough for Locke.

      Meanwhile, at Doctor Shaw's sanitarium, to which Balcom had telephoned with the permission of the doctor, elaborate preparations had been completed for the reception and transportation of Brent.

      It was perhaps an hour later that the ambulance, with three white-uniformed attendants, pulled out, carrying all those appurtenances necessary for the care of the insane, including the strait-jacket which Balcom had so testily suggested.

      That same hour had seen intense activity in another quarter. In the den of the Automaton, the hard-visaged emissaries had been already roused by the entrance of the Automaton.

      Hasty directions had been uttered by the metallic, phonograph voice of the monster, and already four of the most desperate of the characters had hurried through the entrance out on the cliffs. The Automaton himself had turned toward the passage through the Graveyard of Genius to Brent Rock itself.

      Thus it happened that when the ambulance from Doctor Shaw's sanitarium came bowling along the road to Brent Rock as fast as its motor would permit, the driver was forced suddenly to put on the brakes to save himself from being wrecked by a huge log that lay squarely across the road.

      No sooner had the attendants jumped out to remove the log than four desperate men fell upon them from ambush, beat them, and left them trussed up and unconscious, while they donned the jackets and uniforms of Doctor Shaw's men, seized the ambulance, and swung off again at a fast clip in the direction of Brent Rock.

      Lulled into a false security, as her father slept now for a time under an opiate, Eva was sitting beside him with loving care when she heard the noise below of the arrival of the car from Doctor Shaw's sanitarium. At once she was in wild alarm. Nor was Locke off his guard. While Zita tried to reassure Eva, Locke met the men.

      There were four of them, and as the first passed, Locke halted him. The parley gave another a chance to push past, while Locke held three at bay.

      A moment later there was a scream from Eva, who had hurried from her father's room at the sound of the high voices. The emissary had seized her.

      It was a signal for the other three, who leaped on Locke all at once. With almost superhuman strength Locke seized one of them and flung him over his head for a fall down the whole flight of steps as he fought the other two single-handed.

      Even then the third came back to the attack and Locke was forced to give back step by step down the stairs.

      Another scream from Eva.

      In the heat of the fray Locke caught a glimpse of her battling on the landing above with the first emissary. It gave him redoubled strength.

      Flinging the two men off and eluding the third, he leaped to the chandelier in the hall and with a giant swing wrapped his legs about the fellow struggling with Eva. Literally throttling him, he pulled him backward over the balcony railing for a fall clear to the lower hall.

      At the moment when Locke was actually subduing all of his assailants the door to the cellar suddenly opened and the huge figure of the Automaton strode out.

      With one blow of his steel fist the monster struck Locke senseless, then turned and began ascending the grand staircase.

      Almost paralyzed with fear, Eva screamed again and fled through the nearest door, locking it. On strode the Automaton, crashing down the door as if it had been a mere shell.

      Meanwhile the emissaries had seized Locke, still unconscious and unable to resist. Feverishly they began to bind him in the strait-jacket which they had taken from the ambulance. Then they carried him and flung him roughly on the floor of the library.

      Still screaming, Eva fled to the next room, again bolting the door and piling furniture frantically to barricade it. Again the Automaton rained blow after blow on the door. It splintered, and his powerful fist began breaking and overturning the barricade which the unfortunate girl had improvised.

      Wildly she looked about. Only a closet now offered refuge. The door was splintered through. She could see the terrible face of the monster.

      In the library, Locke, recovering by this time, began flopping and twisting, spurred by the muffled screams from above-stairs as he

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