end of a campaign that he had never
deviated from the original purpose that had been his in the beginning.

"Well, anyway," tapped the drop of water, "it can't do a bit of harm to
listen to what he has to say."

Varr shrugged his shoulders. The conversation had ceased to interest
him. So, evidently, had his letters, for he thrust them from him with
an air of finality as he rose to his feet and glanced at his watch. It
was not yet very late, but with the waning of summer the days were
growing perceptibly shorter and the light in the office where the two
men were talking was already failing.

"I didn't see your car outside, Simon. Shall I give you a lift home?
or would you rather walk?"

"I'll walk." Varr crossed the room and knelt before an old iron safe
in the corner near the window, peering closely at the figures on the
dial as he slowly turned the knob. In a moment the combination Was
complete and he pulled open the heavy door. "It occurred to me to-day
that this was a poor place to leave my memorandum book. If some one
succeeded in burning the building--as some one apparently wants to--it
would be none too secure even in this safe."

Jason whistled softly. "Has that got the notes of your new formula in
it, Simon?" He stared at the small red leather notebook which Varr
took from a pigeonhole. "You're dead right to take that out of here!
By the way, did you see that letter from the Larscom Leather Company?
They say that the last order we shipped them--the batch we tanned by
your new process--is the best looking lot of leather they've ever had
in their shops."

"I guess it was," acknowledged Varr calmly. He balanced the leather
memorandum book on his hand, his expression softening for a moment as
he regarded it and remembered the days and nights of toil represented
in its closely filled pages. A metal nameplate on the cover caught his
eye by reason of its dinginess. He breathed on it and rubbed it with
the cuff of his suit. "Yes, Jason, here is proof enough that my brains
in no way resemble a tomato. If you were capable of inventing the
processes that I have noted here, you would be running a business of
your own quite independent of me!"

"That's very true, Simon." To this particular type of jeer Bolt had
grown accustomed, and if his eyes narrowed a trifle it was the only
hint of resentment that he showed. "As a matter of fact, it's just
because you've got such a good thing in this new formul