The emissaries next grabbed the diving-suit and left hurriedly by the way they had come.  But they had not completed what it was they sought to do.

The old boatman was not as badly hurt as it seemed and was able to drag himself across the floor with just strength enough to pull the telephone from the table and call Brent Rock.  Then as weakness again overcame him he managed to blurt out a message to Eva, who answered.

“Don’t let Mr. Locke come to the dock,” he managed to gasp.  “He’ll be killed.”  Then he collapsed and fainted.

Eva tried frantically to get the boatman again on the wire, but it was useless.  Quickly a plan formed in her mind.

If she could only intercept Locke before he reached the dock!

She dashed out to the garage, realizing that it was almost hopeless, since Locke had been gone some time.  Hoping against hope, she jumped into her speedster and swung out and down the road.

The fact was that even as she sped along toward the cove Locke was passing the arched gate of the dock.

He called at the boatman’s little shack.  Of course there was no reply.  To all appearances it was deserted.  Thinking to find him at the very end of the dock where he had been told to place the money, he proceeded to the engine-case.

He was slightly surprised at not finding the boatman there, but as that was no part of the agreement it engaged his attention for only a moment.  He started to withdraw the money from his pocket, groping at the same time to see if the diving-suit was actually in the case.

He was bending over when suddenly there was a rush of men behind him and a blackjack in the hands of one of the ruffians just missed his head.

He fought, but their numbers were overwhelming.  Like a pack of wolves they pulled him down.

Locke was quickly bound with ropes and forced into the engine-case.  The cover was put on and they nailed it down solidly.  To make it doubly sure this time the case was then lashed with ropes and they were knotted.

Next the emissaries carried the case to a sloping landing stage, preparatory to casting it into the river.

It was at this moment that Eva came running down the dock in wild search to intercept Locke.  Wide-eyed, in the moonlight, she paused at what she saw.

The emissaries had given the packing-case its final shove.  Scraping, it slid down the incline and toppled overboard.  There was a great splash as it struck the water and immediately began to sink in the depths.

The engine exhaust had evidently protruded from the case, as there was a hole in its side slightly larger than a man’s hand.  To Eva’s horror, though she had half expected it, she saw actually a hand thrust forth from this hole as if waving frantically.

The box sank lower as it rapidly filled with water.

Eva knew not what to do.  Instinctively she knew that it was Locke.  It was as though he had waved a last farewell.