me at the Cliff
House at eight o'clock," and bore the signature of Locke.

Thus, with their plans carefully laid, the Automaton and his emissaries
plotted, and soon a messenger was on his way to Eva with the faked
message.

Meanwhile, as the day wore on, the treacherous guard returned on duty at
the prison, and at the first opportunity made his way to the cell in
which the emissary was locked. In a hoarse whisper he told the fellow of
the success of his mission and of the plan, slipping to him the cap and
goggles through the bars.

Locke had been waiting for hours impatiently on his bunk, but now was
all attention, though he was careful not to betray it. As the guard left
and the emissary was trying on the cap and goggles, Locke came to his
cell door. Now was the time to act.

He began working noiselessly and swiftly with the bolts, deftly
determining just how the tumblers fell until he was able to slip the
bolt. He peered into the next cell. The emissary had retired to his own
bunk to await the time of rescue. Locke saw his chance, and at once
began unlocking the cell door. As the emissary heard him, he concluded
that it was the guard come to release him, and sprang from his bunk just
as Locke entered. He suspected nothing until a stray ray of light fell
on Locke's face. But then it was too late either for him to put up much
of a fight or to make an outcry. For with a swift blow Locke disposed of
him and carried the fellow, unconscious, into his own cell, where he
locked the door again, hurrying back to the emissary's cell, where he
donned the fellow's clothes, of which he had stripped him, and
appropriated the cap and goggles. Then Locke waited for the rescue that
was to lead, he was sure, straight to the villains he wished to capture.

At Brent Rock, the faked telegram from Locke had been delivered and Eva
was overjoyed to learn of his seeming success. As it happened, Zita was
in the library when the butler brought the message in, and, all
animation, was eager to accompany Eva to the meeting-place. But Eva
would not listen to it.

So, not many moments before eight that night, while Locke was waiting in
the jail for the rescuers, Eva climbed into her speedster, eager to keep
the appointment which she was convinced would clear up the mystery.

In the darkness outside the jail, by this time, was waiting the false
turnkey when an open car drove up with its motor silenced. He had been
expecting it and so was ready