Thus, within an hour after he had talked to Mr. Meredith, The Thinking Machine met Dick Herbert.
"What's this about the bail-bond?" Dick inquired.
"I wanted to talk to you," was the scientist's calm reply. "That seemed to be the easiest way to make you believe it was important, so——"
Dick's face flushed crimson at the trick.
"Well, you see me!" he broke out angrily. "I ought to throw you down the stairs, but—what is it?"
Not having been invited to a seat, The Thinking Machine took one anyway and settled himself comfortably.
"If you will listen to me for a moment without interruption," he began testily, "I think the subject of my remarks will be of deep personal concern to you. I am interested in solving this Randolph plate affair and have perhaps gone further in my investigation than anyone else. At least, I know more about it. There are some things I don't happen to know, however, that are of the greatest importance."
"I tell you——" stormed Dick.
"For instance," calmly resumed the scientist, "it is very important for me to know whether or not Harry Meredith was masked when he came into this room last Thursday night."
