sneak-thief. No one could know the real nature of my work, or plan to steal it. Or so I thought then. But what I really wanted to learn was: why did she look like Kyra? Why?
I had a very hurt feeling inside me, illogically. I spend most of waking hours trying to devise a thing to lighten the labors of all men, and now one of the ungrateful creature whom I call the better part of man, "woman," had tried to rob me of that thing. It wasn't sense but, it hurt! That woman had hurt me. I was going to get back at her some day. I waited.
You see, that was what my invention was; a thing to make the labor of life easier. Worn on the body, a synthetic animal-electric battery would replace the work-energy expended by the human body with a synthetic flow of body electric. It could give a man all the energy he needed for a hard day's work without tiring him in the least. I wish I had had it on me today, but who would have thought a round of waiting in the offices of manufacturers would play a man out completely?
It was a good invention. It was perfectly developed to a useful stage; but the medicos and engineers had frowned upon it for several reasons.
Not good reasons, considering their condescending examination of the device in the offices of G.I.D. (G.I.D. means General Industrial Devices.) They had refused to buy it. "Too liable to cause labor dissensions." "Too apt to prove harmful to the chemistry of the human body." "The expense of research required to prove it harmless would far overtop any reward to be got from its use. Most probably only prove it to be harmful to health," etc., etc.
It is so easy to use words to replace honest thought. Pigheaded men! I was just beginning to learn how hard it is to give men anything new. Every inventor had to travel the trail of refusal and scorn. So had I, but it is a hard trail.
I nodded sleepily.
SOFTLY the door opened, and one blue-green eye, sparkling with the thrill of adventure, peered out at me. I let my eyes nearly close, and nodded my head sharply again as though falling asleep. She glided out, raised one trim leg to step over my outstretched shanks. I galvanized into swift action.
I leaped at her like a wrestler with two hundred bucks on the bout, twisting her round arm behind her, catching her soft, sweet neck in the crook of my elbow.
She let out a little gasp, but did not scream. She had no desire to bring in any spectators.
"Now talk fast, you pretty sneak! What were you looking for in my rooms, and what did you find?"
Those sparkling blue-green eyes opened in terrific innocence. She struggled so very nicely in my arms. She spoke gaspingly, and with a slight accent hard to place; like none I ever heard.
"Please to let up on the neck, you large roughneck. You are choking me!"
I was' still mad, but getting over it fast.
"You can talk. Do it, or you'll learn how I don't like to be robbed."
"I didn't take a thing," she gasped. Her face would have fooled the devil himself. "I just got in the wrong room. The keys all fit the same doors in these old houses."
"You don't live here. I know every face in the house."
"All right, I could say I just moved in, but what's the use. They made me do it. I don't want to steal. But I have to. They have my young brother. They will kill him if I don't do what they say. They want your invention."
"They do, eh? I can believe that!"
I laughed then at her artfully contorted face, for I wasn't hurting her neck. I released my hold.
"Do you expect me to believe someone wants my invention? Why, I can't give it away! You have to do what 'they' want! Who are 'they'? Now, tell me the truth!"
I twisted her arm a little, for I felt sure she was lying about something, but couldn't see just what.
"It is the truth! They have my young brother. They would kill him or worse if I double-crossed them; went to the police. That is why I don't run away. I can't abandon him. Some day I'll get him away, and then I'll run so far they will never find me."
She looked up into my eyes, twisting her body so accidentally against mine, rubbing her neck with such a graceful motion of her slim, rounded arm. Well, after all, I am only a man. My voice softened, and she knew she had me. I said:
"It's a good story. But I just don't believe it. I think I had better call the po-
