ond later
pierced his throat. He fell to the floor--dead.

At the moment when the emissary, followed by the Automaton, entered,
Zita, watching her chance, managed to escape from the room, stumbled,
and almost half-fell down the stairs.

Already, in the huge water-tank that stood on the roof of the apartment
of Dora, Locke had revived as he felt the water and had found himself
already half submerged, with the water rapidly pouring in. At first he
could not grasp his terrible predicament, but before long the full
horror of it burst on him and he struggled madly to free himself. Since
his body was stretched at full length, it was impossible to use the
ordinary tricks of which he was master. His arms were bound, and he well
knew that to release one of them constituted his sole chance of escape.

He contracted his muscles and, inch by inch, he worked his right arm
free. By this time the water had risen until he was fairly beneath its
surface. Could he last long enough to free himself?

He worked frantically. Finally, with his lungs almost bursting, he
managed to free the other arm, then the rope that bound his neck. To
release his feet was, to him, child's play, and he stood up.

But the water had risen almost to the top of the tank before he was able
to grasp its brim and draw himself out.

Once on the roof, there was only one thought in his mind. It was nearing
eight o'clock, and if Eva kept the appointment at the inventor's he knew
his adversaries well enough to be sure that they would take advantage of
his absence.

He dashed down the stairs and out of the building. Dora and her evil
band could wait. He must reach the inventor's shop. As the seconds sped,
so increased his premonition that all would not be well there.

It was at the moment that Zita came flying down-stairs that Locke burst
into the hallway to the inventor's.

Zita saw him. Above, she knew was the terrible Automaton and his
bloodthirsty emissary. More horrible yet, she had her fears of the
package that had been given her by Balcom to deliver.

"You must not go up there!" she cried, impulsively, flinging her arms
about Locke's neck.

Locke tried to remove her arms as he questioned her. But Zita either
would not or could not tell more. Instead she merely clung to him.

Thus it was that Eva, determined at keeping her appointment with the
inventor at all costs, entered the hallway at just this unpropitious
moment. To her it looked as if Locke and