This only lasted a moment, however; for he stopped, gestured passionately, seized a pad of paper and began to write.
While he was thus engaged, Ashton-Kirk said to Pendleton in a low tone:
"Remain here for a moment."
Then slowly, carefully, the investigator made his way toward the window through which Miss Vale and Locke were to be seen.
Heavy beams of light shot across the ground from the windows; but here and there were trails of shadow. He clung to these until he had reached the shelter of the walls; then to Pendleton's amazement he stepped directly in front of the window through which the two were to be seen, rapped smartly upon the glass, and remained standing in full view, of the two in the room.
Pendleton saw the pad drop from Locke's hands; he saw the mute wheel as he felt the vibrations and stare at the window, his eyes puckered and straining. He also saw Miss Vale rise, saw her hands thrown out in a gesture much like despair; and also he heard the cry that she uttered, muffled by the confines of the room, but full of fear. Then the room was plunged into darkness; an instant later a door was heard to open; the sound of quick-moving feet came to him; there followed the pulsations of a motor and the racing of a car away into the night.
"She's off,"breathed the young man, and there was undoubted relief in the knowledge. "She's off, and I really believe that's what Kirk was after."
He walked toward the house and found his friend standing in the shadows.
"Well,"chuckled the investigator, "it did not take her long to make up her mind, eh?"
"You had some motive in doing that,"accused Pendleton. "What was it?"
Ashton-Kirk was about to reply; but just then the small figure of Locke made its appearance. He carried a lantern and was approaching with stumbling steps, his eyes peering and blinking in their efforts to pierce the gloom. Not until he was well upon the two did he make them out; then he halted, lifted the light above his head and surveyed them intently.
In the rays of the lantern Ashton-Kirk smiled urbanely, and bowed. The supple fingers of the mute writhed inquiringly.
"Each of them forms itself into a wild note of interrogation,"said Pendleton. "They are fairly screaming questions at you."
Ashton-Kirk smiled even more agreeably at Locke and shook his head. Then he went through the pantomime of one writing, and finished by pointing to the house.
Carefully, eagerly, fearfully, the mute examined them; his near-sighted eyes and the wavering light must have made it all but impossible for him to make them out. However, he at length motioned for them to follow him, and started back by the way which he had come. But after a few steps he halted. He indicated that they were to remain where they were; then he went to the shed-like building, closed the door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket.
"It would seem,"observed Ashton-Kirk, "that we are not to be trusted implicitly."
"Also,"replied Pendleton, "that there is something of value in the shed."
Returning, Locke led the way to a door upon the other side of the house. Showing them into a small room furnished with books and scientific apparatus and evidently a study, he set down the lantern and with a sign bade them be seated. Upon their doing so he produced a small pad of paper and a pencil; handing these to Ashton-Kirk he stood peering at them expectantly. With the swift, accurate touch of an expert, the investigator wrote in the Pitman shorthand:
"We ask pardon if we have startled you."
Then he tore off the sheet and handed it to Professor Locke. The man seemed surprised at the medium selected by his visitor; nevertheless he quickly traced the following in the same characters.
"Who are you? What is your errand?"
"We were sent to you by Dr. Mercer,"replied Ashton-Kirk with flying pencil. "Our business is to secure the admission of a new pupil."
Locke read this and regarded them for a moment, doubtfully.
"Why did you not press the button at the door?"he demanded in writing.
"I hardly expected you to have such a thing as a bell,"answered Ashton-Kirk, on the pad. "And so, seeing you, I attracted your attention as best I could."
Professor Locke read this and stood with his pencil poised, when the buzzer sounded harshly; he went at once into the hall; they heard him open the door; and in a few moments he returned, followed by Haines.
The fingers of the two flashed their signals back and forth; then a look of relief came into Locke's face; he even smiled, and nodded understandingly at the two young men.
"I beg pardon, gentlemen,"said Haines. "But when I got back to the hall, Dr. Mercer made me return and make sure that you had got to see the Professor."
"Thanks,"replied the investigator. "We had not the slightest difficulty."
"I'm glad to hear it, sir,"said the man. "Good-night to you."
He flashed the same wish to the mute, who answered readily; then he went out and through the window they saw his light again go bobbing away in the darkness. Then the professor began to write once more.
"I beg your pardon,"was his message in long-hand. "The man tells me that it was quite as you say. But I must confess I was a trifle startled."
"The lady,"wrote Ashton-Kirk, "seemed startled, too."
For the fraction of a moment the mute halted in his reply. Then the pencil with much assurance formed the following:
"It was my niece. She was about to go just as you came; so do not reproach yourself for having driven her away."
For some time the penciled conversation continued between the two; but as it was all based upon the fanciful pupil whom the investigator stated he desired to place in Dr. Mercer's care, Pendleton paid little heed to it. At last, however, they bid the Professor good-by, and left him upon the threshold, his massive head nodding his adieus, his frail little body sharply outlined by the glow from the hall.
The two had reached their own car around on the other road before Pendleton spoke. Then he inquired:
"Well, have you learned anything from him?"
"I think I can say 'yes' to that,"answered the other. "But I'm not yet sure. I'll have to put it to the proof first, according to the formula which I gave you a half hour ago. If it succeeds, I'll tell you what it is; if it does not, I'll say nothing, and it will go upon the scrap heap devoted to broken fancies. And now, Dixon,"to the chauffeur, "we'll go home."
CHAPTER XVI
STEEL AGAINST STEEL
Shortly before noon next day, Ashton-Kirk, in an immaculate morning suit, was ushered into the presence of Miss Edyth Vale. If he expected confusion, embarrassment or anything of that sort, he was disappointed; for she greeted him eagerly and with outstretched hand.
"This is a surprise,"she said.
He held her hand and looked meaningly at her.
"My appearances are sometimes surprising,"he said. "But I usually select the night for them; the effect is better then, you see."
She smiled into his eyes.
"I have no doubt but that you are dreadfully mysterious,"she said. "But please sit down."
She seated herself near the window; holding a book in her hand, she fluttered the leaves to and fro.
"The composure,"thought the investigator, as he sat down, "is somewhat overdone."
"I wonder,"said Miss Vale, looking at the book, "if you are an admirer of Ibsen."And