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 fiance.  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.  Locke watched, motionless, as the couple turned back to the house.

Somehow Eva must have felt his gaze.  She turned and looked upward at the laboratory window.  As she saw Locke her face broke into a smile and she waved her hand gaily.  Paul saw it and a swift flush of anger crossed his face.  He pulled Eva abruptly by the arm.

“Let’s go into the house,” he said, almost angrily.

Seeing the action, Locke also turned from the window to encounter Zita, still watching.  Without a word he left the laboratory.

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.

Balcom leaned forward excitedly.  “I do not intend to let you wreck this company because your conscience, as you call it, has begun to trouble you,” he hissed.

Brent’s hand clutched nervously.  He was afraid of Balcom—­so much so that he fought back only weakly.