ontained Dale's model. He was taking it to Mr.
Granger.

A panic gripped Robin. She must do something to save that model for the
Forsyth Mills--she did not know just what, but _something_--

"Stop, oh, stop. Couldn't I see your--father? I'd _like_ to."

Tom looked puzzled, but good-naturedly turned the car. Robin climbed out
with amazing speed.

"Take me to his office, oh, _please_ take me," she begged, with such
earnestness that Tom wondered if she'd gone "clean dotty."

Inside the office building there was no sign of Adam Kraus, for the
reason, though Robin did not know it, that it was his second visit; he
was there by appointment, and he had used a stairway that led directly
to Mr. Granger's office, while Tom took Robin through the main office
where a neatly dressed girl blocked their way.

Mr. Granger was busy but the young lady could wait, this efficient young
person informed them, quite indifferent to the fact that she addressed
Thomas Granger and Gordon Forsyth. And Robin walked into an enclosure,
half consulting room, half waiting room, and sat down with fast beating
heart, upon a leather and mahogany chair.

"I'll wait out here 'til you see Dad," Tom told her, to her relief, and
she heard him telling one of the clerks how his "baby" could make sixty
as easy--

Suddenly Robin took in other voices, one deep, one soft and drawling. A
door at the end of the room stood half-open. She leaned toward it,
alertly listening.

"And you say this invention is your own, Kraus? Have you your patents?"

"My applications have all gone in and I have some of the patents. Yes,
sir, it's my own."

"Doran reported very favorably. With one or two changes--suppose we find
Doran, now." There came the sound of a chair scraping backward. "Oh, the
model will be quite safe here. I want Doran to point out one or two
things on our new loom. It will only take a moment. Then we'll bring
him back here."

Oh, would they come out through the waiting-room--thought Robin,
shrinking back. And what had Adam Kraus said?

But Mr. Granger had opened another door--Robin heard it close. She
stepped noiselessly toward that half-open door at the end of the room.
Her head was clear, her heart atingle.

He, Adam Kraus, had _dared_ to say the invention was his! The wicked
man, the traitor--to betray Dale's trust, his friendship!

The office was quite empty. And on the big desk, amid a litter of papers
and letters and books and ledgers, stood