"Forget it, Mason," said Bronson. Then, because he was completely unaware of his visitor's name or anything else about her save that she knew something that prompted her to aid him, Bronson turned to the girl and held out an elbow. "May I escort you home, Madame Pompadour?" Virginia smiled at him with exaggerated enticement. "Only if you want to be Benjamin Franklin, dear." Doctor Mason stood up and hurled the door open angrily. "Get the devil out of here!" he snapped. He was still looking for a fine vocabulary when they left. Once outside and on the street beyond, Ed Bronson paused. "Now," he said seriously, "what in the name of eternal sin is this?" "I had to get you out of there," she said. "I'm glad you are sharp enough to follow suit." "You can be glad that Mason did not choose to question me about you," snapped Bronson. "I'd have denied you deeply." "All a part of your tale to convince," she smiled. "I'd have forced it into the open--forced Mason to let us meet. Then we'd make out." "Fine, fine," he said with a bitter grin. "Just tell me what the score is right now." "I happen to know that you are right," she told him. "But--" She nodded. She explained at length that she had been tinkering in her cellar and had come in with something that had permitted her to hear his half of the initial discussion with the girl named Carlson. She paused at that point and grinned at him. "Just to keep the record clear," she said, "I'm Virginia Wells." "Well, Miss Wells, I'm grateful. But what does a girl like you find interesting in tinkering in the cellar?" "You call me Virginia like everybody else," she told him. "As for tinkering in the cellars, when has a woman's appeal anything to do with the liking for science--and furthermore I might even resent the phrase 'like you' that was hurled at me. Do you think anybody that looks like this must necessarily be completely vacant above the ears?" Bronson smiled. "Not every girl," he said with a sour smile. "But the percentage assays high." Virginia took a deep breath. Thin though her story was, he'd accepted it for the nonce. "Where do we go from here?" he asked. "I want to reason this thing out." Virginia smiled tolerantly. "My equipment isn't very good," she said. "I'd like to see yours." Bronson smiled. For hours he had been itching to show someone the equipment and this was his chance. He was going to take the opportunity regardless of where the chance came. Virginia had known that too! The girl tucked a slender hand into the crook of his elbow. "Let's go," she said with a bright smile. Bronson nodded and they started toward his home. He walked easily, she thought, neither too fast nor too slowly. His stride seemed to coincide with hers so that the periods of out-of-step walking were minimized. They were not nonexistent, for Ed Bronson was a tall, long-legged man and, though Virginia's legs were long and slender, she was not so tall as Ed Bronson by seven inches.