e dark as to the antidote as ever.

A few moments after the doctor had left, when he made his morning call
the next day, the counsel of the corporation was announced. He was shown
into the library immediately and it was there that Locke and Eva went
into conference with him.

The attorney had brought with him many share-holders' proxies, and these
he handed over to Eva.

"These proxies," he was declaring, "give you absolute control, Miss
Brent. With them you can force Mr. Balcom completely out of
International Patents."

"What's that you say?"

It was Balcom himself who spoke. How the man had got past the butler,
who certainly had no love for him, was mystifying. Yet here he was,
ready and eager to defend his interests.

"I was just telling Miss Brent," informed the lawyer, coldly, "that with
these proxies which I have obtained and just handed to her, she was in
complete control of the company."

"And you, Mr. Balcom," interposed Locke, stepping forward, "will play no
further part in the activities of the company. Miss Brent desires your
resignation, to take effect immediately."

"Why--why--this is unheard of--absurd!" sputtered Balcom. "I'll--I'll--"
And his rage got the better of him.

"No, Mr. Balcom," again interrupted Locke, "you will do nothing. It is I
who will give you twenty-four hours to arrange your affairs with the
company before I order your removal--or arrest."

Balcom tried to remonstrate, to plead his innocence of any wrong-doing.
Finding no sympathy by taking this attitude, his manner changed abruptly
and he attempted to bluster.

A decisive movement toward the telephone on the part of Locke checked
this and, chameleon-like, Balcom's usual suave manner came to the fore.
He bowed himself out.

"It will, of course, be as you say." He smiled oilily.

Once in the hall, however, his manner changed again, and, darkly
scowling and biting his thin lips, he was about to quit the place, when
Zita, limping only slightly, intercepted him.

"Mr. Balcom," she pleaded, "come out the back way. I must see you alone
a moment."

They tiptoed out to the grounds, and, behind a hedge where they could
not be observed from the house, talked.

"Tell me what has happened," demanded Zita.

"Happened?" repeated Balcom. "Why, they've thrown me out of the
company--at least, they think they have."

His mind was working quickly, and after a pause he turned to Zita
sharply. "Can you get Brent out of the house an