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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Assuredly," hastened Balcom. "Then I'll be right over." As Balcom hung up the receiver he chuckled sardonically. He was just turning to an antique brazier to arrange for Locke's reception when Zita was announced and at once admitted. "I've failed, Mr. Balcom," she apologized, "failed miserably. Locke took Mr. Brent away from me and they ordered me never to return to the house."
For with the restoration of his mind all the evil lines of his face had been obliterated, as it were, and in the place of the doddering half-imbecile they found a genial, kindly, and distinguished gentleman who, with the utmost hospitality, brought chairs and begged them to be seated. Zita, in her anxiety to know the truth, could hardly contain her impatience.
At the moment when Quentin and Eva were in the library, Zita was taking advantage and was ransacking Locke's laboratory, not with any definite purpose in mind, but searching in every nook for some clue which might tell her what he was about. The speed with which she worked was extraordinary.
It was a neat little workshop in which every detail had been thought out with care the home, one might say, of a methodical workman. The inventor manifested some surprise at seeing Zita, but politely asked her to enter, and offered her a chair. Zita declined and plainly showed her nervousness. "Will you please give this package to Mr. Locke and Miss Brent when they come at eight?" she asked.
At first Locke thought that it might be a trap and was for paying no attention to the sound, but Eva, woman-like, insisted. He investigated. Reclining on the ground, and looking more like a little boy in man's clothes, lay Zita. She was holding one ankle and her face showed that she must be in great pain. "Help me," she moaned. "When I jumped from the window I sprained my ankle.
Meanwhile Zita had encountered Locke hurrying down at the sound of the commotion. To him she told the story, again hurt that his interest was solely for Eva, not in herself. Locke paused long enough to seize an umbrella from the rack, rip the cover off, and break out a rib, to which he tied a piece of string while he hurried to the group at the door.
His first impulse was to ask her sharply what business she had in his study; but, remembering that he had not seen her for three weeks, he held out his hand and said, rather frigidly: "Good-evening, Zita; how are you?" She put up her face to be kissed, but he moved past as though he had not seen the gesture, and took up a vase to put the pyrus in.
"Your failure has made me redouble my efforts," it hissed. "I have just killed Locke in my apartment and I " It was Balcom. But Zita waited to hear no more. Secretly she had always loved Locke. Though she had worked against him, the very thought that he might be dead shocked her. She tore herself from the grasp of Balcom before she could hear more and ran like a deer toward the apartment.
Turning the pages rapidly, she finally came to one over which she fairly gloated, for its information, sold to the proper parties, might make her independent for life. Even as she was gloating over her find there came the sound of many feet in the front hallway. Zita had no time to run out of the room before the door opened, giving entrance to six emissaries, surrounding her.
Balcom," retorted Eva, keenly, "the older head that would protect my interests and the interests of those poor inventors lies stricken, as you know, in the room above. In his absence the children, as you are pleased to call us, will do their best." Balcom glared, while Zita with a strange glance toward Eva left Locke and joined Balcom in a far corner of the room.
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