"The Carfax Chemical Company, no doubt," suggested Paul.
The Colonel was an old hand.
"I am not going to shout 'Marvelous!'" he replied. "You are probably quite aware that the only important place in that neighborhood is the Carfax Chemical Works."
"Where they make agreeable experiments in the art of blowing up people."
"Precisely. Mr. Gerald Carfax, the famous chemist, has his laboratories there. He does a good deal of work for the Government."
"And I suppose some valuable secret formula has been stolen?"
"Not at all; at least, not so far as I am aware at present. To tell you the truth, I know very little about the matter myself."
"But you consider it sufficiently important—"
"To come down at once? I do. Carfax is an old friend of mine, and I am satisfied that he would not have telephoned to me, as he did this morning, unless he had good grounds for doing so. But I think it will be as well to let him tell his own story; the few facts I already know would be of little use to you."
Paul acquiesced, and the two men chatted desultorily until the car, passing by a row of irregular buildings, turned into a tree-bordered drive and drew up before the door of a comfortable stone house, where Carfax, a pleasant, elderly man with keen grey eyes, welcomed them heartily.
PAUL, at his own desire, was introduced as an unofficial assistant to the Colonel, and Carfax led the way to his library.
"I am greatly obliged to you, Fairbody," he said, as they seated themselves, "for coming down so promptly. I would not have asked you to do so if I had not thought the matter one of considerable importance."
"Of course not," said the Colonel, in his crisp way. "Please tell us the whole story; Mr. Pry knows nothing of it as yet."
"It is a queer business," replied the chemist, meditatively. "Of course, there may be some simple explanation, but I confess it baffles me. I will be as brief as possible—"
"Don't," interrupted the Colonel. "Just tell us everything you can think of; you may leave out something important if you don't."
Mr. Carfax bowed.
"Well," he replied, "I will assume that you know nothing about our work here. We are engaged in the manufacture of various chemical compounds, most of them of a secret nature. In addition, we are constantly engaged in experiments with the object of discovering new methods of using the information we obtain. So much for that; I need not go into details unless some point arises on which you may desire fuller information. I have a fairly large staff, all of whom are persons of good character, as you will naturally expect. But only a few of them know more than the actual work on which they are engaged.
"I have, however, two assistants who are aware of almost all my secrets, and it is of these I particularly desire to speak—or, rather, of one of them. They are John Martin, my chief assistant, and Roland Vayne, a distant relation, who looks after all the electrical and mechanical side of the place. Vayne has suddenly disappeared."
"When?" asked Paul.
"The day before yesterday."
"Why on earth did you not let me know before?"
"I ought to have done so, I suppose," replied Mr. Carfax; "But you know how one dislikes making mountains out of molehills. The circumstances were so unusual that at first I thought he would turn up in a day or so and apologize."
"Apologize for what?"
"Well, this is what happened: Martin and Vayne have rooms in an iron building a short distance from this house. I am going to build a specially equipped addition to the existing works, and I had this iron building put up to accommodate certain special men until the new place is ready. Two days ago, in the afternoon, I asked my daughter Stella to go over to the works with a message for John Martin. She will confirm what I am telling you, presently, but she is a good deal upset, and I thought it would save her some distress if I told you the facts first."
"Certainly," said Paul. "Pray go on."
"According to what she tells me," resumed Carfax, "she went across to the iron building and entered Martin's room, which is half sitting-room and half laboratory, for some of his experiments occupy many hours, and he reads or writes, or amuses himself with his gramophone while they are in progress. She entered the room, as I say, but found that Martin was not there. Supposing—as was, in fact, the case—that he was somewhere about the other buildings, she waited for his return.
"While doing so, she noticed on his gramophone a new record, and set the instrument working. She had been listening to the music for some minutes when the door was flung open and Roland Vayne rushed in. He was in an extraordinary state of excitement and was shouting something which she did not catch clearly. He ran to her and gave her a violent push, and she fell, striking her head against the iron floor. She was stunned for a few moments, and when she recovered Vayne had gone. From that moment I have seen nothing of him. None of his clothes or other effects have been touched, as far as we know. That, really, is all I know about the matter."
"I think," said Paul, after a short silence, "that it would be well—if Colonel Fairbody agrees—to see Miss Carfax. I need not assure you, Mr. Carfax, that we fully realize how painfully such an occurrence must have affected her."
"I will send for her at once," Carfax answered, and in a few moments Stella entered the room.
Tall and beautifully proportioned, she was a splendid specimen of the fairest type of English womanhood. She moved with the easy grace of a girl who knew how to handle gun and rod with no inconsiderable skill, and her broad brow and the firm, though delicate line of her chin hinted at a well-balanced mind.
She was pale, but otherwise showed little sign of the shock she had received, and she greeted the newcomers with a pleasant cordiality.
"Miss Carfax," began Paul, after a whispered word with Colonel Fairbody, "your father has told us of the strange behavior of Mr. Vayne, and we are anxious to help him to clear up the mystery. If you will allow me, there are one or two questions I should like to ask you; I am sure you will understand that I intend no impertinence—"
"Certainly," replied the girl composedly.
"You were unable, Mr. Carfax has told us, to understand what Mr. Vayne was saying as he attacked you?"
"He was so excited that he was mixing up his words. He seemed to be saying something about going away, or it might have been that he was telling me to go away."
Paul considered this for a few moments.
"Miss Carfax," he resumed, "I am compelled to ask you this: was Mr. Vayne in love with you?"
Stella colored, but she answered steadily:
"I am afraid he was, or had been."
"Had been?"
Mr. Carfax broke in.
