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While this little quadrangle of conflicting emotions of Locke, Eva, Paul, and Zita was being enacted the two partners in the library were disputing hot and heavy. As they argued, almost it seemed as if Balcom's very face limned his thoughts that he desired Brent out of the way, as a weakling in whom he had discovered some traces of conscience which, to Balcom, meant weakness.
He hurled what remained of the chair into the faces of the last two emissaries, then turned and rushed up the steps, carrying Eva along with him. A whir of the starter, the throbbing of the engine as the gas in the cylinders ignited, and they were streaking toward Brent Rock, safe. In a still fashionable, but older, part of the town, the elder Balcom had his quarters.
"The treatment his daughter can give will be better than that of an outsider." As he spoke he sauntered away with an air of finality, while Balcom shrugged his shoulders and gave orders to the ambulance men to go. Locke walked toward the dining-room, and there amid the candle drippings and the wreckage of the night before espied the miniature automaton.
Startled from his work, even though he had expected the thing, Balcom looked up, and in the passageway caught a glimpse of the dim outline of his arch-enemy, Locke. Balcom had been right. Locke had found the clue to the secret entrance to the tunnel. He worked feverishly to complete the final connection, but almost before he finished Locke charged and the battle was on.
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.
"You little idiot!" Balcom almost hissed. "I'll not tolerate a failure, either. Get out!" Although Zita almost went on her knees in her pleading to him, Balcom was adamant, and finally she left in utter despair. Outside, she telephoned to Paul to see if she might induce him to use his influence in reinstating her in his father's good graces.
Finally he found what he was looking for, and, smiling triumphantly as he read the paper, he thrust it into his pocket and hurriedly left the place, not stopping even to pick up the papers scattered all about. Zita had evidently been watching the house, for no sooner had he left than she ran up the front steps of the Balcom apartment. In some way she had procured a key and let herself in.
However, as soon as Locke had left to go toward Eva, Doctor Q came from his hiding-place, madly smiling and wagging his head. He peered into the hole and, seeing nothing, lighted a match and thrust it far down into the darkness. There was a sharp intake of his breath, for the match revealed to him the dead face of Herbert Balcom. Doctor Q drew back and stood erect.
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.
Then he made an erasure and an entry and replaced the book in the drawer. Next he called the servant. "When she comes, you make her a prisoner," he directed. "Understand?" The Madagascan nodded and raised one of Balcom's hands to his own forehead as a sign of his fidelity. Balcom went out and the servant stepped into the empty trunk to await the arrival of Zita.
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