n the library of Eva's home.
Before them were many ledgers of International Patents, Incorporated.
Eva was reading certain entries in the books, while Locke was making
notes to be used at the coming directors' meeting.

Eva closed the ledger from which she had been reading and announced, "I
intend, at the meeting, to insist that the patents held in the Graveyard
of Genius be released to the world."

"It is the only honorable thing to do," agreed Locke. "You will
undoubtedly meet with violent opposition from Balcom and some few who
owe their fortunes to him, but in the end you will win."

"If we could only have found the antidote," sighed Eva, "and my father
could only be again in control of things."

"All we can do is to act as we think he would have acted if he were in
control," soothed Locke.

"May I speak to you a moment, Mr. Locke?" interrupted a voice.

It was Zita who had entered noiselessly and now stood well within the
room.

How long had she been there? How much had she overheard? Both Eva and
Quentin exchanged worried glances.

Locke rose and went over to Zita, who spoke to him in a whispered
undertone.

The matter was so trivial that it hardly warranted her intrusion. Locke
was puzzled. But he was a man and, therefore, did not understand. For,
as Zita continued, there was a world of longing in her eyes. She even
went so far as to finger the lapel of his coat.

Eva understood only too well, and her face crimsoned. She bit her lips,
and in vexation at Zita her finger-nails pressed into her palms. Paul's
entrance at this moment was a distinct relief, much as she despised the
man.

"What's all the fuss about?" he inquired.

Paul had a gaiety of manner that he could slip on like a coat, and it
was this quality that made him dangerous. He was popular and attractive.

Paul took Eva's hand and managed to hold it just the fraction of a
second longer than was necessary to convey friendship. Then Eva withdrew
her hand, but not before Locke saw it and scowled.

It was not long before the elder Balcom also arrived.

"Good afternoon, my children," he greeted, jovially. "I'm just a bit
ahead of time, I imagine. But why you children don't leave dry matters
of business to us older heads I'm blessed if I know."

"Mr. Balcom," retorted Eva, keenly, "the older head that would protect
my interests and the interests of those poor inventors lies stricken, as
you know, in the room above. In his absence the childr