ssed her as they
related their narrow escapes.

Locke resolved to follow the trail of the Automaton and to rescue Zita.
Also he had hopes of rescuing Eva's father at the same time. Eva wished
to accompany him, but he would not think of it, and insisted that she
return to Brent Rock and keep all the doors barricaded. In fact, he
followed her almost to the house and saw that she entered safely, then
hurried back to the beach.

With the aid of Eva's electric torch, which she had given him, it was no
difficult task to trace the huge footsteps of the Automaton, though, one
by one, the footprints of the emissaries took divergent directions,
probably for the very purpose of confusing just such a pursuit.

He followed the main track, however, until he came to the banks of a
small stream, and there the trail was completely lost, for the monster
had stepped into the water. Locke waded to the other bank and hunted for
further tracks, but there were none to be found. The Automaton had
undoubtedly waded up-stream to the point where he had decided to dispose
of Zita.

Nothing daunted, Locke started wading upstream. This stream ran in a
gully between the rocks and the cliffs on either side, which were very
high. Time and time again Locke thought of turning back for more
searchers. But he hated to return to Eva without at least some news, and
therefore he persisted.

He was at last rewarded, for just as he was about to turn to the right
where the stream made a bend, he thought he heard a low laugh. He
stopped dead in his tracks. Again the sound of the broken laughter came
to him.

Cautiously Locke moved slowly forward until he could see around the
bend.

It was a strange sight that met his gaze. Under an enormous overhanging
rock he saw about fifteen men standing, while against the cliff he could
distinguish the form of a girl. It was undoubtedly Zita. Sitting on a
rock and quite close to her was Peter Brent.

The emissaries were clustered around the central figure, which was
waving its arms of steel and indicating what they should do. As the
Automaton gesticulated, tiny points of fire gleamed from its eyes.

Seen in the light of the lanterns held by the emissaries, the Automaton
never looked more terrifying. Even Locke himself, who had encountered
the monster so often, felt a cold chill as he watched him and his men.

Locke turned noiselessly, for well he knew that alone he could do
nothing. He started to retrace his step