CHAPTER XXIII
With a crash the hypnotist dropped unconscious to the floor as the hypnotic machine started to revolve rapidly. The emissaries turned from Locke and were dazzled by the blinding flashes from the whirling mirrors.
It was Zita who caused all the commotion. Unnoticed by the thugs, who were intent on sending Locke to his death and dragging Eva through the panel, Zita had managed to free herself from her bonds and, true to her promise to Locke that she would help him, she had risked all for his sake.
Once free from the ropes, she had seized a heavy bronze vase and, at just the critical moment of danger, had hurled it at the hypnotist's head, striking him a terrific blow that had felled him and left him unconscious on the floor before he could spring the trap. She had then set the mechanical hypnotic machine in motion, and, standing behind it, was herself practically invisible. It all happened so quickly that it seemed like a miracle.
Locke, his hope revived, swiftly grasped the one chance for life that was left to him. By contracting his muscles he was able to slip out of the ropes which bound his arms. But since the noosed rope around his neck held him so that his toes barely touched the floor of the trap, he could not, try as he might, manage to get the noose free.
Suddenly a plan flashed across his mind. Hanging from the ceiling a few feet in front of him he could see an enormous chandelier. Throwing his hands above his head, he grasped the rope, thus relieving the strain on his neck. Then, snapping his body backward, his feet came in contact with the wall. With tremendous force he kicked out, causing his body to swing in an arc toward the chandelier.
It was not until he had wrapped his legs about the branches of the chandelier that the emissaries noticed what he was doing, so fascinated were they by the revolving mirrors. Even then they could scarcely resist the auto-hypnotic powers of the contrivance. Finally, however, with a shout they came to the attack.
Locke was now hanging head downward. With one hand he succeeded in loosening the noose from about his neck, while with the other he struck out, hitting an emissary a fearful swinging blow that sent the fellow staggering backward, to fall against the lever controlling the trap-door.
With a crash the trap was sprung, with the pit yawning beneath it. Struggling, striking, grappling with his assailants, Locke managed to hurl three of them to their deaths in the underground river below.
Horror-stricken at the fate of their companions, the other emissaries stepped back, when, to add to their confusion, Zita, with remarkable strength for so frail a girl, lifted the stand of mirrors and hurled it among them.
Locke somersaulted to the floor and, seizing the broken stand, used it as a weapon with deadly effect.
The emissaries turned and fled.
An instant later Locke started to the panel through which Eva had been dragged, when he heard steps from the other side. It was the emissaries who had seized Eva, coming back to see what all the rumpus was about. Locke, forewarned, slipped close to the wall, and, as they passed through the panel, one at a time, he was able to fell them to the floor.
Then he rushed through the panel just in time to see Eva, pursued by the Automaton, running toward him.
The very strangeness of her terrible adventure had brought Eva out of the hypnotic state into which she had been thrown and she clung to Locke as though she were a child.
Locke took her in his arms and, swiftly evading the slow-moving monster, dashed back to the hypnotic room, calling to Zita to run to the street. Thus all three were able to make good their escape.
Eva had purposely left her motor turning over, and therefore it was barely an instant after they were in the street before they were streaking out of that quarter of the town.
Zita was now overwhelmed by her feelings, but it was Eva herself who spoke first.
"Forgive me, Zita," begged Eva, in the rush of her emotions forgetting all that Zita had done. "But for you, both of us would now be dead."
For some moments Zita could not reply in her silent sadness at seeing the joy of Locke with this girl.
"I—I forgive you?" she murmured, at length. "It is for you to forgive me." She paused a moment and choked back a sob; then added, bravely, "I—I can even wish for your happiness, my dear; my hope is dead."
Only Locke understood, and as he watched Zita he resolved to do all he could for her, realizing that some one else had made her a victim of her love and jealousy.
All breathed a sigh of relief when at last they came again in sight of the lights of Brent Rock.
There was just the trace of a shadow to cloud the momentary happiness at their safe arrival, as, on the steps, Zita refused to enter.
"I—I must say good-by," she murmured, wistfully, turning to go out into the night alone.
Nothing that either Locke or Eva could say seemed to swerve her purpose.
"Can't you see?" she exclaimed, finally, turning to Locke. "Balcom, Paul, and Doctor Q all trust me now. I can help you solve the mystery better if I leave the house."
This was so evident that Locke and Eva were forced to consent. They took her back to the city, leaving her where she could be unobserved, then returned in a very hopeful mood again to Brent Rock.
"I think she can and will help us," declared Eva, intuitively.
"Yes," agreed Locke, slowly, "and if Zita finds the record of her birth I believe we shall solve the mystery."
Worn out with the terrors through which she had passed, Eva bade Locke an affectionate good-night and went to her room, while he went to the laboratory and tried again to find an antidote for the Madagascar madness, a work that kept him up late and to which he returned again early the following morning.
It was on that following day, in the River Road apartment of De Luxe Dora, that Paul and she were having a demi-monde lovers' quarrel. Paul was intoxicated, and Dora may have been angry about that. Or it may have been that she was jealous of some other woman. However, they were quarreling fiercely when there came a knock at the door.
"You open it," flashed Dora to Paul.
He demurred a moment, then, changing his mind, consented and crossed to the door, while Dora ran to her own room and hid.
Paul was very much surprised to find that the visitor was Zita, much excited.
"I want you to help me on something of great importance," she exclaimed, almost before she had entered.
"Why, certainly! Anything you desire!" hiccoughed Paul. "Come on in."
Zita entered the apartment and they crossed over to the chaise-longue, where Zita made her direct plea.
"Help me find the record of my birth," she begged.
Paul pulled his wandering wits together and thought a moment; then a particularly crafty look came into his eyes as he detached a key from his key-ring.
"Here, take this," he directed. "It's the key to my father's apartment. The records you want are there. He and I have quarreled and you can go as far as you like."
Zita took the key eagerly, thanked Paul profusely, and started for the door.
She had barely passed the threshold before Dora, who had heard all, was at the telephone in her own room and was angrily calling up Balcom at his apartment.
Balcom, assisted by his Madagascan servant, was at the moment packing a trunk, perhaps preparatory to a hasty flight, should that become necessary. The moment the telephone rang he picked up the receiver and nearly choked with anger as he heard Dora's whispered voice over the wire.
"Paul has given Zita the key to your apartment," Dora hastened, "and she is coming over to steal the record of her birth."
"She is—eh? Well, I'll take care of that," growled Balcom, as he rang off.
Balcom went to a drawer in the table and from it took a large book. Rapidly he turned over the pages until he found what he wanted. Then he made an erasure and an entry and replaced the book in the drawer. Next he called the servant.
"When she comes, you make her a prisoner," he directed. "Understand?"
The Madagascan nodded and raised one of Balcom's hands to his own forehead as a sign of his fidelity.
Balcom went out and the servant stepped into the empty trunk to await the arrival of Zita.
But it was a very different person with whom the Madagascan had to contend in the end.
On leaving Dora's apartment, Zita telephoned Brent Rock, and Locke answered immediately. Locke readily agreed to make the search of Balcom's apartment in Zita's stead.
When the Madagascan heard a key in the door he stealthily peeped from his hiding-place and saw, instead of Zita, Locke.
Locke's back was turned, and the Madagascan, undaunted, sprang from the trunk and leaped, catlike, on Locke's back. But he had not reckoned on his antagonist. Locke, always on guard, was not taken quite by surprise. He caught the savage in a jiu-jitsu hold, throwing him over his head to land in a far corner of the room.
In spite of the fall, the Madagascan bounded to his feet, like a rubber ball, but a few stiff jabs from Locke soon took all the fight out of him and he lay still, completely knocked out.
Locke made a hurried but systematic search of the room, and finally found the book that he sought, taking it and returning to Eva at Brent Rock.
After telephoning, Zita went directly to Doctor Q's laboratory, to which she was admitted after he had seen her through his periscope annunciator.
The doctor was fumbling with a test-tube, from which some heavy fumes were issuing. He motioned her to a chair, near a table upon which were many papers which looked to Zita as though they might be of importance. Always quick to act, Zita raised her hand as if to arrange her hair, and as she did so she purposely knocked the test-tube out of the doctor's hand. The acid spattered on some of the papers, quickly setting them afire.
Doctor Q, wildly excited, started to beat out the flames, and in so doing allowed several unseared letters to flutter to the floor. One in particular arrested Zita's attention. It was a drawing, a plan of some sort, and was marked, "Plan of Den."
Zita placed her foot on it, and, while Doctor Q was engaged with the small blaze, she reached down and, hastily folding it, thrust it into one of the low shoes she was wearing. Then she went to Doctor Q's assistance and in a jiffy the fire was out. The doctor was furiously angry at her, and, feeling that she had accomplished all that she might expect, she expressed her regrets for the accident and went out before his anger became any worse.
Thus it was that Zita arrived at Brent Rock only a few moments after Locke, whom she found in the library with Eva, turning over the pages of the record he had secured at Balcom's.
The record purported to be a record of marriages of Wallace County, New York, and Locke finally found an entry that read, "Peter Brent and Rita Dane."
For a moment Zita was stunned. It was her mother's name.
Locke smiled. "Yes, Zita," he said, quietly, "for a moment Eva and I were surprised, too. But it's a palpable forgery. Balcom has tried to prove that you and Eva are half-sisters, but look."
He handed her a powerful magnifying-glass and through it the clumsy forgery stood out in all its crudeness, showing plainly where other names had been erased and these inserted.
Zita was greatly disappointed, for she had thought that at last she would establish her identity. Then she remembered the paper she had hidden in her shoe. She slipped the paper out and handed it to Locke, who was greatly excited over its importance.
They were still studying it when Locke heard a strange noise, as of shuffling feet, in the hallway. He jumped to the door, and there, in the dim light of the stairway leading down to the Graveyard of Genius, he saw a knot of men carrying another man, who was evidently helpless. Locke started forward, but they were gone.
Eva hurried up-stairs to her father's room, fearing something was wrong.
"Father's gone!" she cried, despairingly.
Locke threw himself full against the door at the head of the cellar stairs which the men had slammed shut. He tried to batter it down, but it was too strongly built. Then he drew his revolver and with the barrel started to push out the pins from the hinges. He worked feverishly and succeeded in driving the top pin out. Then, using it as a lever, he was able to pull the door from its frame.
He dashed down the stairs, but was late by only the fraction of a second, as a metal hand was just closing the huge door to the Graveyard of Genius. He fumbled at the secret combination, and as he was doing so Eva and Zita joined him.
The door swung open and they rushed through. But the place was deserted.
"They've carried your father through some secret passage," exclaimed Locke. "That would explain much that is strange that has happened about the house, too."
Just then Zita stepped forward with the plan in her hand. "See," she cried, "there is a secret passage marked on this."
Locke studied the plan for some time, but whoever had drawn it had carefully concealed both the exact location of the passage and the method by which it was reached. As he searched, however, an idea occurred to Locke.
"I'll rig a trap with a camera," he decided, finally.
A few minutes later he returned to the room with his special quick-shutter camera, a flash-bag, and a ball of light twine. Carefully he focused the camera on the wall where the plan showed the secret passage to be. Then he rigged up the flash-bag and connected the whole with the twine, which he strung all about the Graveyard of Genius, so that, should any part of the wall move, it would cause the twine to break which in turn would at the same time release the shutter of the camera and explode the powder of the flashlight. Thus, without any direct human agency, a photograph would be taken.
Next he attached wires and ran them to the library above, where he installed an annunciator, the needle of which would indicate when the trap was sprung and the picture taken. Fascinated, the two girls watched. Eva was almost fainting with grief at the terrible fate that had overtaken her father. Even in his sickness, at least she had had him. But now he was gone—to what she could only guess. Locke tried to console her as they paced the library above, even though he realized that such consolation was hollow.
It was perhaps half an hour later when suddenly the needle of the annunciator began to vibrate rapidly. All leaped to their feet and ran down the stairs to the Graveyard.
At once Locke rushed to the camera, put in a slide, and took out the plate-holder. Then they hurried up to his laboratory.
There Locke procured a developing-bag and started to work. Nervously and impatiently Eva and Zita watched him at his task.
At last the negative was ready and Locke drew it from the bag and held it to the light.
There, glaring out of the plate, was the devilish face of Balcom!
Eva and Zita both uttered a cry of astonishment and consternation. Even Locke was amazed. But the strongest feeling he had was anger as he turned to them.
"You two take this plan," he exclaimed. "It shows a den with an exit indicated. Get some one to go with you; find the place and wait for me there. I can find the secret entrance from the Graveyard from this negative—and I'm going through it."
Balcom, in the passageway between the Graveyard of Genius and the Automaton's den, was livid with fury. He realized that his picture had been taken, surmised that the secret passage would be found and that some assault on the den would be attempted. But he had had no time to locate the camera, which Locke had hidden well, nor had he dared to search longer for it when he heard Locke bounding down the stairs from the library.
Accordingly, he had retreated and hastened back through the passageway into the Automaton's den.
"Quick!" he shouted to the horde of emissaries in the place. "Bring dynamite, electric wires, and a rack-bar. They think they have us trapped. But if they try to follow me here, I tell you it will mean certain death to them."
The emissaires hastened to obey him. They brought the explosive and the means to detonate it, and carried the stuff into the passageway, where they made the connections. An emissary stepped forward and volunteered to use the rack-bar when the time came, but Balcom waved him away.
"No," he growled. "No one can take my revenge from me. I'll do the killing."
The emissaries fell back and went into the den.
Balcom was making some final adjustments when the great rock separating the passageway from the Graveyard of Genius swung slowly on its balanced hinges.
Startled from his work, even though he had expected the thing, Balcom looked up, and in the passageway caught a glimpse of the dim outline of his arch-enemy, Locke.
Balcom had been right. Locke had found the clue to the secret entrance to the tunnel.
He worked feverishly to complete the final connection, but almost before he finished Locke charged and the battle was on.
Up and down the passageway they fought. Although Locke was the younger man, yet in Balcom he found a giant of strength.
It was a fight between these two alone, for no emissary, no Automaton, now entered that passage of death.
Neither uttered a sound. Neither had a weapon. It was the primitive struggle of man to man for life.
But now Locke's youth and clean living began to tell in his favor and he sensed that his adversary was weakening. He redoubled his efforts.
After a particularly vicious blow from Locke, Balcom threw up his hands and toppled over backward—in the direction of the rack-bar itself.
Locke tried to throw Balcom's body out of the way. It was too late. With a thud Balcom crashed full upon the plunger, driving it home.
There was a blinding flash, a dull roar, and the earth rocked. Huge boulders were tossed about like feathers and the roof of the passage caved in.
Balcom was killed instantly. Locke, with better fortune, had been hurled to the ground, where the earth and rocks, in falling, had formed a sort of arch over his body.
He was alive, though barely conscious. He knew that soon a search would be made for him. But, buried under tons of earth and rock, could any rescuers reach him in time? Was this the end?