“Here’s Mr. Sykes to see you, sir,” he announced.
“Good!” exclaimed Melville. “Show him in. Sawdon, you’ll have to step outside for a while.” The showman obeyed. He evidently stood in considerable awe of Melville, and showed no hesitation in carrying out the curt order. As he stepped out a man of a very different cut stepped in. The newcomer was Jerome Sykes, the silent partner of the Artillery Devices Company. He was a gray-haired man, tall, slender, with the face of a fox, a sharp, inquisitive manner and general air of furtiveness.
As the door closed he gave Melville a crisp nod, and then asked sharply:
“Any news from Boston?”
“None from Rook or Radcliff. I don’t know whether they succeeded in getting a line on Peregrine’s vanishing gun or not; but I’ve just heard some bad news from that fellow you passed.”
“Who is he?”
“His name’s Sawdon. He’s the circus man who was given charge of Ralph Ingersoll. He’s just come in to tell me that the boy has gone, and, curiously enough, the people who have taken him are in some way connected with Peregrine, whose invention we are after.”
“Phew! That’s odd, indeed. But Ralph Ingersoll is your personal affair. What I came to see you about is this; we’ve got to have that device of Peregrine’s or we’re in a hole we won’t get out of.”
“I know that,” said Melville gloomily. “From what I’ve heard it’s the kind of thing the government has been looking for. We know it’s not been patented yet, and if only Rook and Radcliff succeed——”
“You haven’t heard from them?”