Riding by taxi, they reached an old house on a side street, a brownstone-fronted building that looked in better repair than others in that block. As they alighted, Mann observed that the front windows of the basement and first floor were barred. Allard observed the same; and he saw that the side windows were similarly equipped.
There was another fact that Allard discerned. There was a bay window at the side of the house; just past it, deeper in a narrow passage, a one-story wall joined this house with the next. Allard saw a door in the blocking wall; it evidently opened into a rear courtyard.
A stocky-built servant ushered the visitors into a first-floor parlor. Soon, they heard the sound of slow, jerky footsteps. A stoop-shouldered, white-haired man entered; he kept his hands folded in front of him, as he stared over the tops of his spectacles.
Professor Lawsham had wrinkled features, with lips that were thin and tight-pressed. His narrow nose gave him a pinched expression, but his clear eyes showed keen intellect. Those eyes, gray in color, were suspicious at first but they gradually became friendly.
LAWSHAM liked the looks of these visitors: Mann, chubby-faced and serious; Allard, his tanned face almost gaunt, with its immobile expression. Seating himself, the professor gave a shrewd smile, then shook his head.
"You are too late, gentlemen," he said. "I have decided not to sell the rights to my invention."
Allard looked inquiringly at Mann; in turn, the insurance broker asked Lawsham to explain his decision.
"Only a few months ago," reminded Mann, "a company was started to put your synthetic rubber on the market."
"That was halted," declared Lawsham. "People argued that synthetic rubber had already been produced."
It was Allard who took up the argument.
"Correct, professor," he remarked. "Synthetic rubber is a fact, but not at a price to compete with the crude product. At present, it stands as a barrier that prevents raw rubber from selling for more than thirty-five cents a pound."
"Because synthetic rubber could be produced for less than fifty," agreed Lawsham. "But the rubber market has been slowly fidgeting upward, to test that very situation.
"Suppose I told you that I can manufacture a synthetic product for twenty-five cents a pound. Where" -
the professor leaned forward to ask a confidential question - "where would the rubber market be then?"
Allard gave no immediate reply.
"I shall tell you!" chuckled Lawsham, rubbing his thin hands. "When the rubber market tries to climb, I can undercut it. When it drops, I can dominate the synthetic field. As you may know, there are purposes for artificial rubber that the natural product cannot fulfill."
The argument was a sound one. Lawsham stressed it. He showed a copy of the prospectus that Mann had mentioned the night before.
"When this was issued," explained Lawsham, "we could only hope that my process would mean cheap synthetic rubber. Since then, I have found that I can produce it cheaply. The constituent needed in the manufacture of synthetic rubber is acetylene. That gas is wrested from coal or limestone. But there are cheaper, better sources."
"Petroleum is regarded as one," put in Allard.
Lawsham smiled shrewdly, as though he knew a better source of supply. Then, abruptly, he asked:
"Would you care to see my laboratories?"
He led the visitors downstairs, passing through a door that a servant locked behind them. The basement was divided into several rooms; two of them were well-fitted as laboratories. Judging by the array of bottles and beakers, with benches of elaborate apparatus, Lawsham had experimented far in his quest for acetylene compounds.
They entered a small room that was boxed off like a special laboratory, although it had little equipment.
"The test room," explained Lawsham. "Most of my final experiments are conducted here."
"Because of their danger?" queried Allard.
"Partly," acknowledged Lawsham. "I see that you know the hazards that accompany this work. Certain compounds harden, and may explode when handled."
"And other acetylene reactions emit poison gases -"
AS Allard made that comment, he was looking toward Lawsham. The professor responded with a solemn nod, then pointed to ventilators set in the walls.
"I have allowed for that," he declared. "This apparatus can clear the air quite rapidly. Fortunately, we know enough about acetylene reactions to be prepared for any such trouble. Only bunglers would come to grief through poison gas."
He led the visitors through to another room, where stacks of synthetic rubber were piled on a table.
Examining them, Allard noted that the substances varied in quality and composition, although some specimens closely resembled the one that he had found on Mandor's desk.
"Seldom do I show visitors through the laboratories," confided Lawsham. "However, a brief trip gives no one any real idea as to my processes. I had trouble, in the past, when I allowed persons to visit too long.
"I was badly disappointed when the stock company failed to develop. So I allowed persons to come here, in hope that I could interest them. Soon afterward, some of my assistants left me, one by one."
Allard's gaze was quizzical.
"Not because I could not pay them!" expressed Lawsham, emphatically. "I still have funds of my own.
They merely claimed excuses; but I knew why. They had been approached!"
There was a hunted look in Lawsham's eyes, as he leaned forward to clutch Allard's coat lapel.
"Fake investors wanted my process," croaked Lawsham. "They believed that my assistants could reveal it. So they could" - Lawsham chuckled, as he leaned back - "but only in part. By this time, perhaps, they have found it out.
"That is why I have this place well guarded. Enemies - thieves - may try to come here, to learn facts that they lack. If they do, they will find themselves in trouble!"
The professor's statement seemed well grounded. When the visitors went up-stairs, they observed that there were half a dozen men at work, in one place or another. All looked husky, like the servant who had first admitted them.
Allard also noted the interiors of the barred windows. They were heavily constructed, as was a big door at the rear of the lower floor. That door was triple bolted.
Up in the parlor, Lawsham reverted to his first subject. When he spoke, his smile was canny.
"You wonder why I invited you here," he said, "since I have constantly refused to let persons take over my process. The reason is simple enough. No one can predict the future. I may be forced, eventually, to ask financial aid.
"Should that occur, I hope to have available persons upon whom I can depend. Let me assure you, gentlemen, that if I change my decision, I shall call upon you first of all. Or, in case a new company should develop, I shall inform you immediately, so that you can purchase original stock."
WHEN they left the house, Allard and Mann walked to the nearest corner. On the way, Mann asked:
"What do you make of it, Mr. Allard?"
"I am not quite sure," was Allard's reply. "It is all reasonable. Particularly what Lawsham said about his assistants."
"You mean the fact that some left him?"
"Yes. None of his present staff appear to be competent chemists. Yet Lawsham would not have started his extensive experiments without qualified assistants."
While Mann walked along pondering over that remark, Allard's eyes were directed toward the darkness on the other side of the street. He heard Mann muse, half aloud:
"I wonder if the synthetic rubber in Mandor's desk could have come from Lawsham's laboratory."
The Shadow had already considered that possibility. Unquestionably Mandor, Thurnig and Brellick together had intended to stake sixty thousand dollars on the success of Lawsham's synthetic rubber. As a result, those three had become the Dead Who Lived.