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We found Tresham in his office and he received us affably, I thought. “Miss Laidlaw told me she was going to consult you,” he remarked as we introduced ourselves. “I’m glad she did so.”

Tresham was a large, well-built fellow, apparently athletically inclined, clean shaven with dark hair that was getting very thin. He seemed quite at ease as he talked with us, yet I could tell that he was weighing us all the time, as lawyers will do.

“What do you think of Creighton’s motor?” opened Kennedy. “You’ve seen it, I suppose?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied quickly and jerkily. “Since Miss Laidlaw became interested he’s been in here to have me look over his application for a patent. You know, I used to be a patent lawyer for a number of years until I decided to branch out into general practice. Legally Creighton seems to be sound enough. Of course, you know, the patent office won’t grant a patent on a machine such as he claims without a rigid demonstration. He needs money, he says, for that. If his idea is sound, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t get a basic patent.”

Tresham paused. I was conscious that he was furtively watching the face of Kennedy as though he hoped to learn as much from him as Craig did on his part.

“It’s the mechanical end of it that I don’t understand,” continued Tresham, after a pause. “Creighton claims to have discovered a new force which he calls vibrodyne. I think it is just as well that Miss Laidlaw has decided to consult a scientist about it before she puts any more money into the thing. I can’t say I approve of her interest in it–though, of course, I know next to nothing about it, except from the legal standpoint.”

“Who is that Mrs. Barry of whom Miss Laidlaw spoke?” asked Kennedy a moment later.

“I believe she is a friend of Creighton’s. Somehow she got acquainted with Miss Laidlaw and introduced her to him.”

“You know her?” queried Craig casually.

“Oh, yes,” came the frank reply. “She has been in to see me, too; first to interest me in the motor, and then to consult me about various legal points in connection with it.”

I felt sure that Tresham was more than just a bit jealous of his pretty client. Certainly his tone was intended to convey the impression that he wished she would leave her affairs in his hands entirely.

“You don’t know anything more about her–where she came from–her connections?” added Craig.

“Hardly more than you do,” asserted Tresham. “I’ve only seen the woman a few times. In fact I should be glad to know more about her–and about Creighton, too. I hope that if you find out anything you’ll let me know so that I can protect Miss Laidlaw’s interests.”

“I shall do so,” promised Kennedy, rising.

“I’ll do the same,” agreed Tresham, extending his hand. “I see no reason why we shouldn’t work together for–my client.”

There was no mistaking the fact that Tresham would have liked to be able to say something more intimate than “client.” Perhaps he might have been nearer to it if her interest in him had not been diverted by this wonderful motor. At any rate I fancied he had little love for Creighton. Yet, when I reflected afterward, it seemed like a wide gulf that must separate a comparatively impecunious lawyer from a wealthy girl like Adele Laidlaw.

Kennedy was not through with his effort to learn something by a thorough investigation of the neighborhood yet. For some time after we left Tresham’s office, he stood in the doorway of the Bank Building, looking about as though he hated to leave without establishing some vantage point from which to watch what was going on in Creighton’s laboratory.

“Of course I can’t very well get into the safety vault under the bank,” he mused. “I wish I could.”

He walked past Creighton’s without seeing anything happen. The next building was a similar two-story brick affair. A sign on it read, “Studios and Offices For Rent.”