He dashed down the stairs and out of the building. Dora and her evil band could wait. He must reach the inventor's shop. As the seconds sped, so increased his premonition that all would not be well there.
It was at the moment that Zita came flying down-stairs that Locke burst into the hallway to the inventor's.
Zita saw him. Above, she knew was the terrible Automaton and his bloodthirsty emissary. More horrible yet, she had her fears of the package that had been given her by Balcom to deliver.
"You must not go up there!" she cried, impulsively, flinging her arms about Locke's neck.
Locke tried to remove her arms as he questioned her. But Zita either would not or could not tell more. Instead she merely clung to him.
Thus it was that Eva, determined at keeping her appointment with the inventor at all costs, entered the hallway at just this unpropitious moment. To her it looked as if Locke and Zita were very familiar. Could it be that Quentin was such a cad? She could not deny the evidence of her eyes.
Indignantly she brushed past them and rushed up the stairs. Locke called after her, but she refused to heed him. He flung off the arms of Zita and dashed after her. But Eva was too quick for him. She opened the door to the inventor's and went in, slamming it behind her. The lock snapped. In an instant Eva saw what she had fled into. There was the Automaton, near him the emissary with the knife—and on the floor their victim in a pool of blood. She shrieked and tried to escape. But the lock had snapped. Besides, the emissary, now directed by the monster, blocked her retreat.
Outside, Locke pounded on the door, but could not open it. It was of stout oak and would take some moments to break down.
The emissary circled in one direction. Eva turned, and there was the Automaton advancing on her from the other side of the room.
On the table the clock-work bomb, delivered by Zita, whether with full knowledge or not, ticked out the last few seconds before its timing at precisely eight!