n dashed
through and into a large room.

Eva, the gunny sack removed and still unconscious, lay on the floor. The
emissaries were grouped around her. In the background, dimly visible,
stood the iron monster.

Startled, they looked up as Locke rushed into the room. But before they
could do more, Locke had whipped out his automatic and, point-blank, was
blazing away at the murderous crew. Two emissaries fell dead or mortally
wounded. The others scattered.

Only the Automaton, man of iron that he was, showed no sign of fear.
Instead, he advanced ponderously upon Locke.

The automatic barked again, but did not succeed in deterring the
monster. Locke realized the futility of using this puny weapon against
such a foe.

He dashed toward Eva. It was the work of only an instant to snatch her
up, practically from under the monster's feet, to turn, and to carry her
through the door by which he had been brought in. Holding her in one
arm, he slammed the door shut and shot the bolt.

He was just in time, for the next instant the door bulged out beneath
the dead weight of the Automaton as it hurled its massive form against
the other side.

Zita vas still waiting at the elevator shaft when Locke, carrying Eva in
his arms, entered. At the sight Zita's whole body expressed her
unquenched hatred of the unconscious girl. Her eyes narrowed, her lips
became livid, and her hands clenched as though she would like to strike
the helpless Eva.

"Zita," demanded Locke, suspiciously, "why did you hesitate to save my
life?"

"Because," she replied--and her voice indicated the force of her answer
whether it were really the truth or not--"I love you, and would not save
you--for _her_."

Zita turned and ran up the stairs leading to Old Meg's as Locke turned
to try to revive Eva.

But the hammer blows of the monster resounded throughout the cellar. At
any moment the door might come crashing down and Locke and Eva might
again be at the mercy of the iron fiend.

Locke caught up Eva in his arms again and, groping, sought the exit of
the warehouse.

He dared not follow Zita through Old Meg's den. Love that could for any
reason hesitate or injure the one loved was incomprehensible to him. He
felt that the hag's den might now be but an ambush and that Zita might
have run ahead to warn the uninjured emissaries of his coming.

By a lucky chance he found the path leading directly to the warehouse
steps and the street. Eva's speedster had not