"What's wrong?" he asked as he came upon the butler and Eva still knocking excitedly at the dining-room door.
Eva was almost in a panic as she answered, "Father and Mr. Flint have been in there laughing ever since last night."
Balcom tried to comfort her. But somehow his sympathy sent a cold shudder through the poor girl.
Meanwhile Zita had encountered Locke hurrying down at the sound of the commotion. To him she told the story, again hurt that his interest was solely for Eva, not in herself.
Locke paused long enough to seize an umbrella from the rack, rip the cover off, and break out a rib, to which he tied a piece of string while he hurried to the group at the door.
"Break down the door and call the police," ordered Balcom.
The butler reached for a chair and was about to swing it over his head to break down the door.
The young scientist knelt down, inserted the umbrella steel through the keyhole, and bent it by the string as he fished about with it on the other side to 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.
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."