"I think it has, Miss Holcomb. And I can understand poor Chick. He
is a very brave man. It's a strange jewel and of terrible potency;
that much I know. It devitalises; it destroys. I can feel it
already. It covers life with a fog of decay. The same solitude has
come upon myself. Nevertheless I am certain it has much to do with
the Blind Spot. It is a key of some sort. The very interest of the
Rhamda and the Nervina tells us that. I think it was through this
stone that your father made his discovery."

She thought a moment.

"Hadn't you better return it? While you still have health? If you
keep it, it will be only one more."

"You forget, Miss Holcomb, my promise to Chick. I loved your
father, and I was fond of Watson. It's a great secret and, if the
professor is right, one which man has sought through the ages. I'd
be a coward to forgo my duty. If I fail, I have another to take my
place."

"Oh," she said, "it's horrible. First father; then Chick; now you;
and afterwards it will be Mr. Fenton."

"It is our duty," I returned. "One by one. Though we may fail,
each one of us may pass a bit more on to his successor. In the end
we win. It is the way of man."

I had my way. She turned over all the data and notes that had been
left by the professor; but I never found a thing in them that
could be construed to an advantage. My real quest was to trace