with somebody. I don't think they
suspect you at all, and they won't unless they get some better methods.
I have devices fitted up to turn the lights off and on, raise and lower
the windows, and even cast shadows at certain times. The housekeeper
knows that when I go to my library after dinner, I have retired to
study, and that it is as much as anyone's life is worth to disturb me.
Also, I am well known to be firmly fixed in my habits, so it's easy to
fool those detectives. Last night I went out and watched them. They hung
around a couple of hours after my lights went out, then walked off
together. I can dodge them any time and have all my nights free without
their ever suspecting anything."

"Are you free tonight?"

"Yes. The time-switches are all set, and as long as I get back before
daylight, so they can see me get up and go to work, it will be all
right."

Brookings told him briefly of the failures to secure the solution and
the plans, of the death of the three men sent to silence Shiro, and of
all the other developments. DuQuesne listened, his face impassive.

"Well," he said as Brookings ceased. "I thought you would bull it, but
not quite so badly. But there's no use whining now. I can't use my
original plan of attack in force, as they are prepared and might be able
to stand us off until the police could arrive."

He thought deeply for a time, then said, intensely:

"If I go into this thing, Brookings, I am in absolute command.
Everything goes as I say. Understand?"

"Yes. It's up to you, now."

"All right, I think I've got it. Can you get me a Curtiss biplane in an
hour, and a man about six feet tall who weighs about a hundred and sixty
pounds? I want to drive the plane myself, and have the man, dressed in
full leathers and hood, in the passenger's seat, shot so full of
chloroform or dope that he will be completely unconscious for at least
two hours."

"Easy. We can get you any kind of plane you want in an hour, and Perkins
can find a man of that description who would be glad to have a dream at
that price. But what's the idea?... Pardon me, I shouldn't have asked
that," he added, as the saturnine chemist shot him a black look from
beneath his heavy brows.

Well, within the hour, DuQuesne drove up to a private aviation field and
found awaiting him a Curtiss biplane, whose attendant jumped into an
automobile and sped away as he approached. He quickly donned a heavy
leather suit, similar to the one Sea