The Master Mystery | Page 3

whispered to him a moment and Balcom's hard face grew harder.
"Go up-stairs--watch him," he ordered, passing down the hall.
Balcom entered the library just as Davis was about to leave, hugging
close to him his brain child. Davis clutched it a bit closer at sight of the
other partner.
A glance would have been sufficient to show that Brent was secretly
afraid of his partner, Balcom, and that Balcom dominated him.
"Go to the gate with him, my dear," whispered Brent to his daughter,
who was clinging to his arm, convinced of the goodness of her father,
ignorant of the very basis on which the Brent and Balcom fortune
rested.
Balcom's mouth tightened as he came closer to Brent, menacing, the
moment they were alone.
"How long has this double crossing been going on?" sneered Balcom,
jerking his head toward the door through which Eva had just gone with
the inventor, and shoving his face close to Brent's.

"It's not double crossing, Balcom," Brent attempted to conciliate,
"but--"
"No 'buts,'" interrupted Balcom, with deadly coldness. "Keep on, and
you'll have the government down on us for violating the anti-trust law.
What's the matter? Have you lost your nerve?"
As Balcom almost hissed the question, up in the laboratory Locke was
now writing furiously in his note-book, when he was interrupted by a
knock at the door. He whipped the dictagraph receiver off his head and
jumped to his feet, hiding all traces of the dictagraph in the desk drawer.
Then he moved over to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open.
"Oh, I hope I haven't interrupted you in any important experiment,"
apologized Zita, innocently enough.
"Nothing important," camouflaged Locke.
Though Locke did not seem to notice it, another would have seen that
Zita cared a great deal for him.
"May I come in?" she asked, wheedling.
"Certainly. I am charmed, I assure you."
While Zita was gushingly effusive, Locke was correct and formally
polite as he bowed his acquiescence. Zita felt it.
For a moment she stood looking at a half-finished experiment on the
laboratory table, then finally she turned to Locke with a calculated
impulsiveness.
"Why do you treat me so coldly," she asked, "when you know I admire
your wonderful work?"
"Really, Miss Dane," he apologized, "I didn't mean to be rude."
Yet there was an air of constraint in his very tone.

"Do you know," she flashed, "I can't help feeling that you are so
brilliant--you must be something more than you seem."
Locke suppressed a quick look of surprise. Was she trying to worm
some secret from him? He masked his face cleverly.
"Indeed, you must be imagining things," he replied, quietly, turning and
strolling toward the window of his laboratory.
The moment his back was turned Zita picked up the photograph of Eva
on the desk. For a moment she stood glaring at it jealously.
Out of the window Locke smiled. For, down on the gravel path,
walking slowly toward the gate to the Brent Rock grounds, he could
see Eva and Davis.
The smile faded into a scowl. He had seen a young man enter the gate.
It was Paul Balcom, son of Herbert Balcom, and Paul was engaged to
Eva--thus giving Balcom a stronger hold over Brent.
Locke knew enough about Paul to dislike him thoroughly and to
distrust him. Had Locke been able to see over the hedge he would have
confirmed his suspicions. For Paul had actually driven up to Brent
Rock in the runabout of as notorious a woman as could have been
found in the night life of the city--one known as De Luxe Dora in the
unsavory half-world in which both were leaders. Had his dictagraph
been extended to the hedge he would have heard her voice rasp at Paul:
"Your father may make you pay attention to this girl, Paul, but
remember--you had not better double cross me."
Paul's protestations of underworld fidelity, would have added to
Locke's fury.
However, Locke had not seen or heard. Still, it was unbearable that this
fellow Paul should be engaged to a girl like Eva. Tall, dark, handsome
though he was, Locke knew him to be a man not to be trusted.

Paul hurried up to Eva, not a bit disconcerted at the near discovery of
his intimacy with Dora. And, whatever one may believe about woman's
intuition, there must have been something in it, for even at a distance
one could see that Eva mistrusted Paul Balcom, her fiancé. Locke
scowled blackly.
Paul thrust himself almost rudely between Davis and Eva. Again Davis
shrank, as he had from the young man's father, then bowed, excused
himself, and hurried off, hugging his motor to him, while Paul took
Eva's hand, which she was not any too willing to give him.