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.
"Father!" cried Eva, running to him.
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."
Outside they could hear the arrival of the detectives summoned by the butler.