"Wrong is right!" declared the officer with a contemptuous flood of tobacco juice. "Yuh folks better go catch yuhr train 'fore yuh ferget where it is." Chagrined, embarrassed, they took their leave, headed back toward the railroad station. "Of all the utterly silly things!" declared Marjorie, as they walked along. "Why do you suppose it didn't work?" Kendrick didn't reply at once. When he did, his voice was grave. "Because the disc has gone!" he said. "We are outside its zone of influence. That's my hunch, at least, and I think we'd better act on it." "You mean...?" "I mean our escape has probably caused them to hurry their plans. They're probably over New York right now. I think we'd better get there the quickest possible way." * * * * * The result was that when the train came, they remained on it only to Tucson. There they chartered a fast plane and started east at once. At sunset the following day the plane swooped out of the sky and slid to rest on the broad grounds of the Blake estate at Great Neck. As Kendrick stepped from the cabin and helped Marjorie down, a tall, distinguished-looking man with graying hair and close-cropped mustache came hurrying toward them. "Daddy!" she cried, rushing into his arms. "Oh, Daddy--Daddy!" Even without this demonstration. Kendrick would have recognized Henderson Blake from pictures he had seen recently in the papers. Now he was introduced, and Blake was gripping his hand warmly. "I don't quite know what this is all about, Professor," he heard the great financier say. "Marjorie's telegram last night was as cryptic as it was over-joying. But I do know that I owe you a deep debt of gratitude." "Yes, and you owe our pilot about a thousand dollars, too!" put in the daughter of the house, clinging to her father's arm. "Please give him a check--then we'll go inside and I'll explain all about it." "A matter very much easier dispatched than my debt to Professor Kendrick," said Blake, complying. The check was for two thousand, not one, the pilot saw when he received it. "Thank you very much, sir!" he said, saluting. "Don't mention it. Good night--and good luck to you!" * * * * * The pilot returned to his plane, it lifted from the lawn, droned off into the twilight. Then they approached the cool white villa that stood invitingly a hundred yards or so away beyond sunken gardens. As they neared it, a handsome, well-preserved woman whose face reflected Marjorie's own beauty came toward them. Lines of suffering were still evident around her sensitive mouth, but her dark eyes were radiant. "Mother!" "My poor darling!" They rushed into each other's arms, clung, sobbing and laughing. Kendrick was glad when these intimate greetings were over and he had met Mrs. Blake.