"We want to talk about copper a little," Hatch explained, still eying his companion.
"Do you want to buy or sell?" asked the broker.
"Sell," said Doane suddenly. "Sell, sell, sell copper. That's it--copper."
He turned to Hatch, stared at him dully a moment, a deathly pallor came over his face, then, with upraised hands, fell senseless.
III.
Still unconscious, the man of mystery was removed to the home of The Thinking Machine and there stretched out on a sofa. The Thinking Machine was bending over him, this time in his capacity of physician, making an examination. Hatch stood by, looking on curiously.
"I never saw anything like it," Hatch remarked. "He just threw up his hands and collapsed. He hasn't been conscious since."
"It may be that when he comes to he will have recovered his memory, and in that event he will have absolutely no recollection whatever of you and me," explained The Thinking Machine.
Doane moved a little at last, and under a stimulant the color began to creep back into his pallid face.
"Just what was said, Mr. Hatch, before he collapsed?" asked the scientist.