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THE IRON ROOM

"I should tell you," he said, "that Vayne proposed to Stella some time ago, but she did not care for him. I believed that he had taken his refusal in a manly way, until his extraordinary behavior two days ago. Of course, that may have had nothing to do with it."

"And is Miss Carfax engaged?"

"She is engaged to John Martin."

"Ah!" said Paul softly. "The engagement is no secret?" he added.

"Oh, no; it was announced a month ago. Martin is an excellent fellow and marked out for promotion. He will be a big man in the chemical world one of these days, and from a personal point of view I could not wish for a better son-in-law."

Paul rose.

"Thank you," he said. "If you approve, Colonel, I think we might walk across now and have a look at Vayne's room and the room in which he behaved so strangely."


THE three men—for Stella did not accompany them—made their way to the works. Originally, Mr. Carfax explained, the place had been a monastery; after many years of emptiness, during which it had fallen into ruins, it had been acquired by a firm of brewers. After passing through various hands, the property had been acquired by the Carfax Chemical Company, some of the buildings converted to their needs, and a number of temporary erections made. It was the company's purpose gradually to clear the ground bit by bit, and to build new and commodious laboratories and workshops specially designed for chemical work.

The quarters occupied by Roland Vayne were in a long iron building, one story high, which was divided into a number of rooms of varying sizes. It was made of plates of iron bolted together, being at once quickly put up and proof against fire. A corridor ran from end to end of the building, at one side, each room opening off this corridor.

The room allotted to Vayne was large and comfortable enough. It was carpeted, and plainly but sufficiently furnished. Behind a curtain was his bed and dressing-table, and so forth; the rest of the room served as sitting-room and study. One side of the room was filled with bookshelves, and under the window a long table held various electrical and mechanical appliances. An easy-chair, a couch, some other chairs, a pipe-rack—the sort of things one would expect to see in a bachelor's room. Vayne and Martin both took their meals at Carfax's house en famille and it was Carfax's intention to provide them with snug quarters in the new works which was already in course of erection.

From Vayne's room they went to that of John Martin, which adjoined it, and there they found the young man himself. Martin was a burly, cheerful fellow between twenty-five and thirty, Paul judged. The writing-table from which he rose as they entered was covered with papers and memoranda. The room was the same size as that of Vayne, and arranged somewhat similarly. Tastes and pursuits, however, accounted for some minor differences. One end of the room, for instance, was left uncarpeted, and here stood a zinc-covered bench and a small sink. There were a couple of shelves of glass jars and retorts, a Bunsen burner or two, and other devices used by the experimental chemist. The gramophone on a stand near the bench struck an oddly incongruous note, the effect of which was enhanced by a picture or two on the walls, some old china and a large vase on a wooden pedestal.

There being no fireplaces or stoves in the building, heat was supplied by means of hot water-pipes from a boiler in a small shed some distance away.

After some general conversation, Carfax proposed that they complete their tour of the works and return to his house for lunch, after which they could consider what should be done. Colonel Fairbody agreed, but Paul asked permission to remain in Vayne's room for a further examination, promising to rejoin them at the house a little later.

"Your colleague seems to have formed some theory," ventured Mr. Carfax, as the others left the temporary building.

Colonel Fairbody shrugged his shoulders.

"Pry is a strange fellow," he said. "There are few men whose theories I respect more, and I am quite sure that he has a reason for what he is doing."

"Certainly," responded Mr. Carfax, with vague politeness.


LUNCH was nearly over, but Paul had not appeared. Mr. Carfax had hospitably desired to go and fetch his guest to the house by main force, but Colonel Fairbody chuckled and forbade him.

"Leave him alone," he said. "He is an obstinate little man, and he won't thank you for disturbing him. He will come when he is ready and make you a thousand polite apologies and explanations—quite untrue—for his absence."

"You seem to allow him a good deal of freedom in his proceedings," remarked Martin.

"I do," replied the Colonel briefly, and Stella tactfully changed the conversation.

Coffee had just made its appearance when the servant entered and whispered to his master, after which he handed a note to Colonel Fairbody.

"One of the men from the works brought it, sir," he explained. "He was given it by the other gentleman, who told him to fetch it here and have it given to you at once, sir."

The Colonel, with a word of apology to Stella, tore open the envelope, which Martin, from his seat, recognized as having been taken from the writing-table in his room. Silently, the Assistant Commissioner read the following message, hastily scrawled on half a sheet of paper:

"Come at once to Martin's room. Bring long light ladder, or rope-ladder if possible. Also electric torch and flask brandy. Bring Carfax, and Martin; not Stella.—PRY."

The Colonel handed the paper to Mr. Carfax, and rose.

"I am sure you will forgive us, Miss Carfax," he said, "if we run away now. Time is getting on, and—"

"And you have had a message from Mr. Pry which you don't want to tell me about yet," cut in the girl, smiling.

"Well—" began the Colonel in some embarrassment, but she laughed a little, waved her hand, and left the room.

"Now that," remarked the Colonel, "is what I call a sensible girl. She must be wild with curiosity, but she doesn't show it."

"She's a good girl," said Mr. Carfax. "But Fairbody, this looks important. As it happens, I know where to lay my hands on the ladder and a torch without attracting attention, and we can take that small decanter of brandy with us."

It was but a few minutes' work to procure a long rope-ladder from a small store not far off. The storeman had gone to his dinner, but Martin had a master key which gained them admittance. A torch was also procured, and the three men hurried to Martin's room.

They found Paul sitting in Martin's big chair, deep in thought. He sprang up as they entered, however, and spoke quickly.

"Ah," he said; "you have got the ladder. Good. Forgive me, Colonel, for sending you such a peremptory mes-