It was midnight when, far down in the rock-hewn cavern in which the
Automaton had his secret den, the steel monster and one of his men
stalked out through the arched passage that led to the very cellar of
the house above them.
A few moments later the swinging rock door in the Graveyard of Genius
tilted and the two entered the strong-room, passing across the room and
out through the steel door into the cellar. Up the cellar steps they
proceeded until they reached the hall, then noiselessly they crossed
into the library. With his human companion the monster approached the
safe deliberately. Just as deliberately the Automaton reached out to
turn the handle of the combination.
There was a flash as the current passed through the arm of steel to the
foot of steel resting on the plate Locke had set in the floor. A
suppressed cry escaped from the henchman. As for the monster, he strove
with superhuman force to wrench himself away from the electric trap.
Meanwhile, up in his laboratory in the house, Locke and four men from
the Department of Justice had been waiting.
"The Department expects us to get this evidence _right_," he had
emphasized as he gave them their instructions.
Hardly had he finished when a signal light which Locke had arranged on
the wall flashed, giving the information that the trap had worked.
Out of the laboratory all piled, running down the hall, Locke paused
only a second to tap on Eva's door, as she had asked, if anything
happened, so that she might be present at the capture. An instant and
Eva, too, had joined the pursuit.
Down in the library the Automaton struggled with the current. As the rug
was kicked aside, the emissary saw the wire from the plate and quickly
traced it to its source.
The result was that in a few seconds the emissary had found a wall
switch and pulled it. Instantly the Automaton was released from the
power that held him.
Quickly the man of steel raised and lowered his arms, as though to be
sure that he could do so, at the same time indicating orders to his
follower, who leaped to guard the entrance to the room. Then the
Automaton turned to open the safe, making swift use of the remaining
seconds before the alarm might bring interference.
In almost no time he had the safe open, reached in, and seized a packet
of precious papers, apparently. Then he turned and was gone, regardless
of the man whom he had sent to guard him.
In the hall, Locke's sharp ears had detected the approach of the
emissary. Not knowing whether it might be the villain himself, he
cautioned the men to wait an instant. The emissary, coming along,
crouching and listening, did not see Locke, and thus Locke was able to
seize him and with a spectacular throw project him literally into the
hands of the law in the person of one of his own men, who snapped the
bracelets on the astonished thug as Locke, followed by Eva and the rest,
ran on to the library.
No one was in the library as Locke ran in and looked about. He turned
toward the door to the hallway where the portières were drawn. As he was
standing there, looking about, the portières moved behind him. Suddenly
they were jerked aside from their fastenings and flung over his head. As
this happened, the ponderous hand of the Automaton descended on Locke's
head and he sank to the floor as the portières wrapped about him.
When the department agents with Eva arrived, they were merely in time to
untangle Locke from the curtains. The Automaton had fled safely.
Although his head was still reeling from the blow, Locke started to
question the prisoner, but gave it up as a bad job and hurried over to
examine the safe, followed by Eva.
Their dismay was mutual. Not only was the safe door open, but the paper
was gone.
Question the emissary as they would, they could get nothing out of him.
Such men have keenly developed the gang instinct of silence. They would
sooner die than squeal.
Even a night in jail failed to break the reticence of the emissary,
although he had been subjected to the most strenuous third degree.
Not only had his spirit not been broken, but the fellow was keenly alert
and planning a way to secure his own release.
As a prison guard was taking the emissary back to his cell, after a
thorough quizzing by Locke in the warden's office, the emissary
whispered:
"Want to make a piece of change--safe?"
The guard looked about, saw that the coast was clear to speak, but
before he could do so the emissary spoke again.
"Give me a piece of paper and a pencil."
Quickly the thug scratched away at a note.
"Deliver that," he said to the guard, handing him the note he had
written, "and you'll get something worth while."
The guard nodded as he shoved the thug into his cell and locked the
door, then walked off, while the fellow watched eagerly through the
bars.
Locke in the warden's office, unsuccessful in making the prisoner talk,
had evolved another scheme.
"Put me in the cell next to him," decided Locke. "I have a plan."
It was while the false guard was reading the address on the note that
Locke and the warden entered the cell row. The guard hastily stuffed the
message in his pocket as Locke and the warden passed up toward the empty
next cell.
Locke went through all the actions of one who was being thrown into a
cell, and the emissary in his own cell listened without suspecting
anything. Locke had arranged with the warden to leave the cell unlocked,
but no sooner had the warden left than the guard, who had been
observing, moved over and shot the bolts.
Here, then, was a predicament. Locke could not give the alarm without
putting the emissary in the next cell on guard. Rapidly Locke revolved
in his head scheme after scheme. He was an expert on bolts and knew that
at any moment he could release himself. Should he do so now? Instead he
concluded to wait until the guard returned, for by the man's actions
Locke was sure that something queer was going on, although, naturally,
he did not know what it was. Accordingly Locke lay down on the bunk in
the cell and decided to wait.
Some time later, at a deserted house not far from the rock-hewn den of
the Automaton, the false prison guard might have been seen delivering
the message which the prisoner had written to two other emissaries of
the Automaton.
After a hasty conference they decided on their course of action. Not
only did he receive the money the prisoner had promised him, but the
emissaries gave him minute instructions regarding the rescue which they
planned. A cap and a pair of goggles for the prisoner were given to the
guard and he was sent on his way.
Scarcely had he gone when the Automaton himself entered the deserted
house, and under his direction one of the emissaries wrote a note which
he addressed to Eva. For, with Locke out of the way, it was a splendid
time to take advantage of the poor girl.
The note read simply: "Our prisoner has confessed. Meet me at the Cliff
House at eight o'clock," and bore the signature of Locke.
Thus, with their plans carefully laid, the Automaton and his emissaries
plotted, and soon a messenger was on his way to Eva with the faked
message.
Meanwhile, as the day wore on, the treacherous guard returned on duty at
the prison, and at the first opportunity made his way to the cell in
which the emissary was locked. In a hoarse whisper he told the fellow of
the success of his mission and of the plan, slipping to him the cap and
goggles through the bars.
Locke had been waiting for hours impatiently on his bunk, but now was
all attention, though he was careful not to betray it. As the guard left
and the emissary was trying on the cap and goggles, Locke came to his
cell door. Now was the time to act.
He began working noiselessly and swiftly with the bolts, deftly
determining just how the tumblers fell until he was able to slip the
bolt. He peered into the next cell. The emissary had retired to his own
bunk to await the time of rescue. Locke saw his chance, and at once
began unlocking the cell door. As the emissary heard him, he concluded
that it was the guard come to release him, and sprang from his bunk just
as Locke entered. He suspected nothing until a stray ray of light fell
on Locke's face. But then it was too late either for him to put up much
of a fight or to make an outcry. For with a swift blow Locke disposed of
him and carried the fellow, unconscious, into his own cell, where he
locked the door again, hurrying back to the emissary's cell, where he
donned the fellow's clothes, of which he had stripped him, and
appropriated the cap and goggles. Then Locke waited for the rescue that
was to lead, he was sure, straight to the villains he wished to capture.
At Brent Rock, the faked telegram from Locke had been delivered and Eva
was overjoyed to learn of his seeming success. As it happened, Zita was
in the library when the butler brought the message in, and, all
animation, was eager to accompany Eva to the meeting-place. But Eva
would not listen to it.
So, not many moments before eight that night, while Locke was waiting in
the jail for the rescuers, Eva climbed into her speedster, eager to keep
the appointment which she was convinced would clear up the mystery.
In the darkness outside the jail, by this time, was waiting the false
turnkey when an open car drove up with its motor silenced. He had been
expecting it and so was ready when a heavily goggled man climbed out and
signaled to him. In the back of the car was another man, also goggled,
while the chauffeur, alone, had his face also well hidden by a cap over
his eyes and his collar pulled up.
Understanding perfectly, the guard hurried into the jail, making sure
that the coast was clear, and down the cell row to the cell where Locke
was waiting impatiently, now dressed and hunched up in a perfect
imitation of the emissary. The turnkey opened the door and whispered to
Locke, who nodded gruffly, and together they sneaked quietly out.
With scarcely another word, outside, Locke leaped into the waiting car
and the four were off, leaving the false turnkey chuckling over his
cleverness and ready to make a get-away.
Locke glanced furtively from the driver to the other two passengers in
the car as it sped along in the direction of the cliffs. So far
everything had gone fine. When would they begin to suspect the
substitution he had played on them? He revolved rapidly in his mind just
what he would do under various circumstances.
"Well, old pal," exclaimed one, clapping him on the shoulders, "how does
it seem to be out?"
Locke replied with gruff heartiness, and the others now began to remove
their goggles. Locke, however, did not do the same. They exchanged a
glance.
Already Eva had arrived at the Cliff House, had left her car, and was
approaching on foot, just as Locke with the now thoroughly aroused
emissaries swung into sight.
With a shout to the driver, the two in the back of the car leaped at
Locke at once, and, as the car stopped, the chauffeur joined them.
Even prepared as he was, Locke was no match for three of them, and,
fighting furiously, all four combatants rolled over and over as they
came closer to the door of an old acid-mill that adjoined the Cliff
House.
"We must keep him from saving the girl," panted the leader of the
emissaries to the others.
Inside the old building stood some huge tanks of acid, and as they
rolled nearer and nearer to them it became evident that Locke was in
their power.
Suddenly one emissary reached out and secured a coil of rope, which he
unwound quickly. The others, too, saw their chance. It was fiendish.
Round and round they wound the rope until they had Locke well-nigh
helpless. Then one of them cast the end of the coil over a beam, all
seized the end as it fell on the other side, and Locke found himself
dangling head downward from the beam, suspended over the vat of acid.
They were about to drop him into it when one, more alert and more
fiendish than the rest, cried out, "Look!"
Through a window now they could see Eva, and back of her the terrible
figure of the Automaton, stalking. She had walked directly into the
trap, but the fight with Locke had delayed the emissaries. Wildly now
Eva was running over the lawn, full in the direction of the acid-room
from the Cliff House.
"Quick!" directed the emissary. "She'll come in that door. Fasten the
rope on it. Then his own sweetheart will drop him into the acid!"
It was only a matter of seconds, as the screams of Eva came closer and
closer, for the emissaries to carry the rope and jam it into the door
through which pretty soon Eva would run to take refuge from the pursuing
Automaton. Then they slunk back through a rear door, with muttered
taunts to Locke, who struggled in the tangle of rope as he felt the
stinging fumes of the acid below.
Outside, Eva, who had realized at last that it was a trap and had no
thought that Locke might be anywhere about, fled toward the acid-room,
while the emissaries hid, ready to seize her as she opened the door
which was to plunge her lover into a horrible death in the acid seething
below him.