A close observer would have noticed that the girl rather drew her hand back from his caress.

“I am so sorry about your father, Eva,” whispered Paul.  “I trust the ailment is but temporary.”

As he spoke Eva thanked him mechanically for his solicitations, while Balcom glanced at his son in admiration.

Locke, who was still engaged in looking at the candle drippings through his pocket magnifying-glass, paid slight attention to Paul, but glanced up in time to see that there was a look of insincerity on his face.

Could it be that this young scion of the Balcom fortune could in any way be connected with the Automaton?  Could this man, this suave, polished gentleman, have any motive for seeking the ruin or death of his fiancee?  Locke seemed to be busily engaged in his task, but he was making mental notes on the conduct of young Balcom.  He looked up finally and turned to Eva.

“Miss Brent, I find minute particles of some foreign substance in the wax of these candles,” he announced.  “They seem to be of organic origin and I am certain that they contain the poison which has robbed your father of his mentality.  I am going to take them to a chemical laboratory where there will be proper facilities to have them analyzed.  Perhaps there is an antidote that will restore your father’s sanity.”

As Locke spoke he carefully wrapped up the particles of drippings in a piece of paper and put them in his pocket.  As he did so, both Balcom and Paul exchanged hurried glances, and Balcom left the group and started toward the hall.

During all this procedure Zita, clad in a sumptuous morning frock hardly befitting a secretary, was standing behind the portieres in the hall and listening intently to all she could hear within the dining-room.  As she heard Balcom’s footsteps she hurriedly turned and seemed to be going up the hall.  He looked after her and then called.

She came toward Balcom with a nod of understanding, and, as she approached, he led her to a corner of the hall and whispered to her.

“It is imperative that we get Flint out of the house to-night.  I can trust you to take care of this if I arrange the details?”

Zita quickly nodded acquiescence, looking furtively over her shoulder to see if they were observed.

“I will get him to your apartment,” she hurriedly said, as she looked up at him for further instructions.

Balcom turned quickly from her, got his own hat and sack, and departed, just as Locke came into the hall, bound for the chemist’s shop.  He looked after the disappearing form of Balcom, and then turned and noticed that he was being watched by Zita.  Zita in turn hastily entered the library, without looking over her shoulder.

“I wonder what her real position in this house can be,” mused Locke, as he took his hat and went toward the front door.

In the dining-room Paul was now standing close to Eva and had taken her hand.