The Master Mystery | Page 9

find the bolt. Meanwhile the butler telephoned frantically for the
police.
It was at this height of excitement that Paul Balcom entered. A
moment's talk with Zita, and he, too, joined the group.
Sympathetically he spoke to Eva, but Eva scarcely responded in the
fashion of a girl to the man whom she was going to marry. Her
attention was riveted on Locke, who was kneeling before the door. Paul
saw it and an ominous scowl crossed his face.
Carefully Locke worked the umbrella steel and the string until he had
caught the bolt. Then he shot the bolt back and rose to his feet. All
watched him expectantly as he threw open the door.
Such a sight as met their eyes one could scarcely picture.
There were Brent and Flint at the table--laughing--laughing. The
candles had long since burned out. On the floor lay the automaton
model.
"Father!" cried Eva, running to him.
But there was no look of recognition on Brent's face.
"Don't you know me? Speak to me! Father!"
Instead, Brent merely patted her shoulder and laughed hollowly. Eva,
on her knees by him, sobbed and smoothed his head by turns.

Locke, bending over Flint, found him in much the same condition.
Meanwhile, Balcom and Paul had picked up the model of the
automaton and exchanged a quick glance.
"This man Locke's actions are suspicious," exclaimed Balcom, hastily.
"He was in the house last night."
Outside they could hear the arrival of the detectives summoned by the
butler.
"Go to Eva," nudged Balcom to Paul.
A moment later the butler entered with the detectives.
At the sight of the automaton model in Balcom's hands the butler cried
out:
"That is what attacked me last night--only larger--much larger!"
All eyes were now on the butler. Quickly Balcom took advantage of the
situation thus created. Locke, also, left Flint and moved over to the
group examining the model. As he did so his eye caught a piece of
paper under the sideboard. He was about to pick it up when he realized
that all were looking at him. Quickly he covered his discovery and
faced them.
"This man is the stranger in the house," cried Balcom, in anger. "Arrest
him and make him explain."
It was the work of only an instant for the chief detective to step up to
Locke and slip the bracelets on his wrists.
"Don't!" cried Eva.
"Please--my dear--your father," remonstrated Paul.
At that instant Brent was seized with another violent fit of coughing
and laughter. Eva, distracted, was half fainting.

Thus, with Locke handcuffed, Balcom and Paul were triumphant.
Locke saw his chance. But the handcuffs prevented him from using his
hands. In the instant that all were diverted toward Brent, with
incredible deftness Locke slipped his hand from the cuffs, one link of
which fell open as if by magic, through a secret all his own. He reached
down and picked up the paper under the sideboard and read it. It was
the letter Brent had been writing and served only to increase his
perplexity. He read it again, then crushed it into his pocket, and before
any one had discovered his trick had slipped his hand back into the
cuffs and they were locked again.
At that very moment the telephone rang and the chief of the detectives
answered. As he did so a perplexed expression crossed his face and he
walked over quickly to Locke.
"I--beg your pardon," he apologized as he began to unlock the
handcuffs.
"Here, my man, what are you doing?" interrupted Balcom.
"I know my business. You lay off," growled the detective.
A moment later Locke, with a slight smile on his handsome face, was
answering the telephone.
Not a soul save the detective, even yet, suspected the true identity of
Locke, even as he answered over the telephone with a respectful, "Yes,
sir."
The fact of the matter was that the message had come most opportunely.
It was from the chief of the Department of Justice himself, ordering
Locke to stay at the house until he had secured the evidence that would
allow the department to proceed against the company under the
anti-trust law. That, then, was the explanation of the secret dictagraph
which Locke had installed, the explanation of his apparent faithlessness
to his employer.

But weightier matters were now on Locke's mind. Here he was faced
by the case of his life, involving the happiness of the very girl whom he
had so soon come to love. His incentive was double--love and success:
triple--above all, justice.
By this time the household themselves were sufficiently calm to help
Brent to his bedroom and Flint to a guest-chamber.
Balcom was about to follow, when Locke, returning from the telephone,
touched him on the shoulder and shoved the threat message