used, about to enter the library. The pause had
been just long enough for him to hear--and it was a blow to him. He
watched, dazed, as the two older men walked over to the younger couple;
then he turned away, heart sick.

"My dear," began Brent, as he patted the shoulder of the girl, the one
spot of goodness that had shone in the otherwise blackness of his life,
making him at last realize the depth to which lust of money had made him
sink, "we were just saying that perhaps it would be advisable
to--er--hasten your marriage to Paul--say--perhaps next week."

The words seemed to stick in his throat.

As for Eva, she felt a shiver pass over her. Without knowing why, she
drew back from Paul, at her side, shrank even closer to her father,
trying not to tremble. Did Paul realize it?

Brent felt the shudder with a pang. He leaned over. "Promise to do
this--for my sake," he whispered, so low that there was no chance of the
others hearing. "By to-morrow all may be changed."

There was something ominous about the very words.

CHAPTER III

Brent had no intention of keeping the promise which Balcom had extracted
from him by a species of moral duress that afternoon.

In fact, already he had gone too far in his plans for restitution--or
was it self-preservation?--to turn back. It was late in the night that
he himself secretly admitted to the house a tall, dark-haired stranger
who evidently called by appointment.

"Well, Flint," he greeted, in a hushed tone, "what was it you asked to
see me about?"

Flint replied not a word, but impressively tapped a bundle which he
carried under his arm and began to undo the cord which bound it.

Brent looked startled, then caught himself. He had known Flint for some
time--an adventurer, more or less unscrupulous, who had been the foreign
representative of International Patents.

Flint took off his coat and threw it on a chair with an air of assurance
that seemed to increase Brent's anxiety, then began again to untie the
bulky package.

"Just a moment, Flint," cautioned Brent, stopping him.

With an air of uneasy secrecy Brent hurried to the door that led from
the dining-room to the conservatory and bolted it securely. Then he made
sure that the door to the library was bolted.

As he did so he did not see his secretary, Zita, watching in the hall,
for the footsteps of Locke, approaching, had caught her quick ear and
she had fled.

"Locke!" called Brent, hearing his laborator