nts were precious. At any
instant they might again be attacked. Feverishly he began to search for
the bottle containing the antidote.

At last he found it, carefully hidden, and in a bottle fortunately not
broken.

They left everything as it was and hurriedly left the place, on their
way to Brent Rock.

Meanwhile, in one of the worst quarters of the city, down in the cellar
of a huge warehouse, a mob of emissaries were gathered. They were
discussing the things that had led up to the explosion in the
Automaton's den, Balcom's death, and the arrest of their three pals.
Plans for the future they discussed, but, with their leader gone, these
hardened men were still as helpless as children.

Suddenly above the din of voices a strange, familiar sound was heard, a
sound as of clanking chains, and the blood froze in the veins of every
man present. Then with wild shouts of terror they scattered in every
direction, for the Automaton was stalking toward them.

Balcom, the man who had given the iron man life, was dead. And yet the
Automaton was among them!

That night, in the holds of many vessels and on the brake-beams of many
trains pulling away from the city, emissaries who once were slaves of
the Automaton were fleeing the city in every direction.

When Zita and her father arrived at Brent Rock, Locke was still working
at his new gas-gun. Eva was in the library, but when she heard the
voices in the hallway she ran to welcome them.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've both returned safe," she cried. Then, unable to
withstand the suspense longer, she asked, "Have you brought it--the
antidote?"

When Doctor Locke told her that the bottle that contained it was safely
stowed in his pocket Eva sank, overwrought, into a chair and cried with
simple relief and joy.

In a moment, however, she had gained control of herself, dashed the
tears from her eyes, and almost seized the bottle from Doctor Locke.

"Bring him down here, my dear," cautioned the doctor, still holding the
bottle. "You would not know how to administer it."

Eva ran to her father's room, stopping only long enough to summon
Quentin, then together they led Brent down-stairs.

Brent's condition was still pitiable. His mind was a total blank. These
people--Doctor Q, Zita, Quentin, even his own daughter--meant nothing to
him. He lived and breathed. But no ray of light entered the poor brain.

They guided his halting steps into the library as if he had been
something less