“Mr. Borland,” introduced Kennedy, changing his tactics and adopting a new role, “I’ve come down to you as an authority on rubber to ask you what your opinion is regarding the invention of a townsman of yours named Cushing.”

“Cushing?” repeated Borland in some surprise.  “Why—­”

“Yes,” interrupted Kennedy, “I understand all about it.  I had heard of his invention in New York and would have put some money into it if I could have been convinced.  I was to see him to-day, but of course, as you were going to say, his death prevents it.  Still, I should like to know what you think about it.”

“Well,” Borland added, jerking out his words nervously, as seemed to be his habit, “Cushing was a bright young fellow.  He used to work for me until he began to know too much about the rubber business.”

“Do you know anything about his scheme?” insinuated Kennedy.

“Very little, except that it was not patented yet, I believe, though he told every one that the patent was applied for and he expected to get a basic patent in some way without any interference.”

“Well,” drawled Kennedy, affecting as nearly as possible the air of a promoter, “if I could get his assistant, or some one who had authority to be present, would you, as a practical rubber man, go over to his laboratory with me?  I’d join you in making an offer to his estate for the rights to the process, if it seemed any good.”

“You’re a cool one,” ejaculated Borland, with a peculiar avaricious twinkle in the corners of his eyes.  “His body is scarcely cold and yet you come around proposing to buy out his invention and—­and, of all persons, you come to me.”

“To you?” inquired Kennedy blandly.

“Yes, to me.  Don’t you know that synthetic rubber would ruin the business system that I have built up here?”

Still Craig persisted and argued.

“Young man,” said Borland rising at length as if an idea had struck him, “I like your nerve.  Yes, I will go.  I’ll show you that I don’t fear any competition from rubber made out of fusel oil or any other old kind of oil.”  He rang a bell and a boy answered.  “Call Lathrop,” he ordered.

The young chemist, Lathrop, proved to be a bright and active man of the new school, though a good deal of a rubber stamp.  Whenever it was compatible with science and art, he readily assented to every proposition that his employer laid down.

Kennedy had already telephoned to the Winslows and Miss Winslow had answered that Strong had returned from Boston.  After a little parleying, the second visit to the laboratory was arranged and Miss Winslow was allowed to be present with her father, after Kennedy had been assured by Strong that the gruesome relics of the tragedy would be cleared away.

It was in the forenoon that we arrived with Borland and Lathrop.  I could not help noticing the cordial manner with which Borland greeted Miss Winslow.  There was something obtrusive even in his sympathy.  Strong, whom we met now for the first time, seemed rather suspicious of the presence of Borland and his chemist, but made an effort to talk freely without telling too much.