“Then let me carry the locket,” he suggested. “You have captured the foe; allow me to keep him imprisoned.”
There was a happy exchange of glances as she pressed the little prison into his hand. “It is yours forever,” she pledged under the sway of her rising emotions.
And he, accepting it with a warm heart, spoke thus in glowing words: “I accept the endless task and also pledge to the utmost of my power to keep any foe imprisoned that seeks to rob your life of any passing happiness.”
“Shall we go still higher?” he soon asked as he fixed his eyes on the dizzy terraces two thousand feet above them.
“In your presence I fear no height,” was her confiding response.
The trolley cars ascended no higher, so they proceeded to the interior elevators. But they were told that no visitors were allowed above that point that privilege being reserved alone for the inventors.
“Are we permitted to visit the interior apartments of this tower, even below us?” asked Mr. World wistfully.
“They are all doubly sealed. No one but an expert inventor, true and tried in our master’s service, ever passes through these secret chambers.”
“May we know what particular branch of work is done in this tower?”
“It is devoted alone to the invention and testing of weapons of warfare for the armies of our master, especially for the sharp-shooters stationed along the so-called King’s Highway.”