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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30868-8.txt b/30868-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..51c468a --- /dev/null +++ b/30868-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8932 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Come Back, by Carolyn Wells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Come Back + +Author: Carolyn Wells + +Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30868] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print project. + + + + + + + + + +The Come Back + * * * * * +CAROLYN WELLS + + + + + * * * * * + BY CAROLYN WELLS + * * * * * + THE COME BACK + IN THE ONYX LOBBY + THE MAN WHO FELL THROUGH THE EARTH + THE ROOM WITH THE TASSELS + FAULKNER'S FOLLY + THE BRIDE OF A MOMENT + DORIS OF DOBBS' FERRY + THE BOOK OF HUMOROUS VERSE + SUCH NONSENSE! _An Anthology_ + * * * * * + NEW YORK + GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + * * * * * + + + + +THE COME BACK + +BY +CAROLYN WELLS + +_Author of "In the Onyx Lobby," "The Man +Who Fell Through the Earth," Etc._ + + +NEW YORK +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + +COPYRIGHT, 1921, +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE PROPHECY 9 + + II THE LABRADOR WILD 24 + + III THE SNOWSTORM 39 + + IV THE PROPHECY RECALLED 55 + + V MADAMS PARLATO 71 + + VI STRANGE REVELATIONS 87 + + VII THE TOBACCO POUCH 102 + + VIII BLAIR KNOWS 117 + + IX INVESTIGATION 132 + + X EVIDENCE 148 + + XI CARLOTTA AND THE BOARD 163 + + XII WISE AND ZIZI 179 + + XIII "LABRADOR LUCK" 194 + + XIV A PROPHECY FULFILLED 209 + + XV AN INTERVIEW 225 + + XVI ZIZI'S OPPORTUNITY 241 + + XVII THE HEART HELPER 257 + + XVIII THE CONFESSION 273 + + + + +THE COME BACK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +The Prophecy + + +Even when Peter Crane was a baby boy, with eyes the color of the chicory +flowers that grow by the wayside along New England roads, and hair that +rivaled the Blessed Damosel's in being "yellow like ripe corn," he was +of an adventurous disposition. + +His innocent face was never so devoid of guile, his winning smile never +so cherubic as when he remarked that he would "jes' run froo the front +gate a minyit," and the next instant he was out of sight. Far afield his +roving spirit led him, and much scurrying was needed on the part of +nurse or mother to bring him back. + +At four he achieved a pair of most wonderful russet-topped boots,--aye, +even with straps to lift himself over a fence, if a fence came his way. +And these so accentuated and emphasized his world-faring inclinations +that he came to be known as Peter Boots. + +The name stuck, for Peter was always ready to boot it, and all through +his school and college days he led his willing mates wherever he listed. +He stalked forth and they followed; and, as he stopped not for brake and +stayed not for stone, the boys who eagerly trailed Peter Boots became +sturdy fellows. + +And now, at twenty-seven, Peter Boots was more than sturdy. He was tall +and big and strong, and the love of adventure, the dare-devil spirit of +exploration still shone in his chicory blue eyes, and his indomitable +will power was evident in his straight fine mouth and firm jaw. + +He had traveled some, even before the war, and now, comfortably settled +in his chosen niche and civilly engineering his way through the world, +he grasped at vacation seasons because they offered him a chance to don +his boots and be off. + +This year he had a grand plan,--its objective point being nothing short +of Labrador. + +He had read many books of the North lands, but a delightful chance +meeting with a doctor who lived up there gave him a sudden impetus to go +and explore a little for himself. His decision to start was +instantaneous, and there remained but to make the necessary +arrangements. + +For Peter Boots these arrangements consisted merely in getting two +congenial companions, and to them he left all minor details of +paraphernalia and equipment. Not that Peter was lazy or inclined to +shift his burdens to others' shoulders, but he was so engrossed with the +itinerary and calculations of distance, climate and season that he had +no time to engage guides or buy camp outfits. + +But the two men he picked,--and who jumped at the chance,--were more +than willing and perfectly capable of all this, and so all details of +the expedition were carefully looked after. + +There had been opposition, of course. Peter's parents were emphatically +unwilling to let their only son run dangers, all the more fearsome +because only vaguely apprehended. + +But their big boy smiled genially at them and went on with his +calculations. + +His sister, too, pretty Julie, besought him not to go. "You'll get lost +in the ice," she wailed, "and never come back to me--and Carly." + +Now Carly,--otherwise Miss Carlotta Harper--was a disturbing element in +the even tenor of Peter's life, and of late her disturbance had attained +such importance that tucked away in a corner of his big, happy heart was +a cozy, cuddly little notion that when he came back from Labrador he +would take her to embark with him on a certain Great Adventure. + +Perhaps her womanly intuition sensed danger, for Carly joined with +Peter's sister in her entreaties that he spend his vacation nearer home. + +"But I don't want to," stated Peter, with the air of one giving a full +explanation. + +"That settles it," sighed Julie; "what Peter Boots wants is law in this +house." + +"Autocrat! Tyrant! Oppressor!" and Carlotta wrinkled her little nose in +an effort to express scornful disdain. + +"Yes," Peter agreed, with his benignant smile, "despot, demagogue, +dictator, oligarch, lord of the roost and cock of the walk! It's a great +thing to be monarch of all one surveys!" + +"To the surveyor," flouted Carlotta, "but if you knew what the surveyed +think of you!" + +"I'd be all puffed up with pride and vanity, I suppose," Peter nodded +his still golden head, though Time's caressing fingers had burnished the +yellow to a deeper bronze. + +"You'll break mother's heart," suggested Julie, but in a hopelessly +resigned tone. + +"Only the same old break, sister, and it's been cracked and mended so +many times, I'm sure it'll stand another smash." + +"Oh, he's going, and that's all there is about it," said Carlotta with +the air of a fatalist. + +"I'm going," Peter assented, "but that isn't all there is about it. I'm +coming back!" and he looked at the girl with unmistakable intent. + +"Maybe and maybe not," she returned, with crushing carelessness, whether +real or assumed. + +"Yes, indeed, maybe and maybe not!" put in Julie. "You don't know about +the prophecy, Carly! Shall I tell her, Peter?" + +"Tell me, of course," and Miss Harper looked eagerly interested. "Who +prophesied what? and when?" + +"Oh, it was years ago," Julie began, "we met a lot of gypsies, and +mother would have them tell the family fortunes. And one of them said +that Peter would go off on a long journey and that he would die a +terrible death and never come home." + +"Oh," Carly shuddered, "don't tell me any more!" + +"But the more is the best part of it," said Peter, smiling; "you see, +mother was so upset by this direful news, that another gypsy took pity +on her and amended my cruel fate. The second seeress declared that I +must meet the destiny number one had dealt me, but that to mitigate the +family grief, I would return afterwards." + +"As a spook?" cried Carlotta, "how interesting!" + +"Perhaps; but it doesn't interest me at present You see, this trip is +not the fatal one----" + +"How do you know?" from Julie. + +"Oh, it's too soon. That old prophecy isn't fairly ripe yet. Moreover, +I'm not ready for it. I'm going to Labrador,--and I'm coming back,--and +then, if all goes well, perhaps I'll never want to go away again. And if +not,----" he looked at Carly, "I may be glad to take the last and final +trip! But if I go on with the program and return as my own ghost, I'll +lead you girls a dance! I'll haunt you in season and out of season!" + +"Pooh, I'm not afraid," Carly tossed her head; "I've no faith in any of +this spiritist foolery." + +"Don't call it foolery, my child," said a serious voice, as Peter's +father came into the room. + +Benjamin Crane gave the impression of power and gentleness, a fine +combination and rarely seen in its perfection. A man of sixty, he looked +older, for his thick hair was white and his smoothly shaven face was +lined with deep furrows. + +He joined the group of young people, and it was indicative of his nature +that there was no pause in the conversation or appearance of constraint +of any sort. + +"But it is foolery, Mr. Crane," Carlotta defended, "I've tried the Ouija +Board myself, and it's a silly business." + +"Not so silly as to condemn something you know little or nothing about," +Mr. Crane said, in his serious, kindly way. "My dear Carlotta, even +though you don't 'believe in' the supernatural, do try to realize that +your lack of belief doesn't bar the rest of us from having faith in +revelation." + +"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Crane," Carly wasn't a bit offended, "don't +mind me! Believe all you want to. But, do you believe in this 'Gypsy's +Warning' about Peter? That's different, you know, from the usual +claptrap." + +"It's not exactly a question of belief," Mr. Crane said, slowly. "You +will, I am sure, agree that Peter may be killed on some of these wild +and dangerous adventures in which his soul delights. Let us hope the +day is far off, if it must come at all. And as to his spirit's +return,--that is, of course, possible,--to my mind, at least." + +"If possible, then extremely probable," declared Peter, laughing; "I've +just told the girls, Dad, that I'll haunt them like a continuous +performance, if conditions allow. Want me to appear to you, too?" + +"Don't be so flippant, Son. If you die while away from us, and if your +spirit can return and communicate with me, I shall, indeed, be glad to +receive such messages, no matter through what medium." + +"Oh, goodness, gracious!" exclaimed Carlotta; "not through a medium, I +beg of you, Peter! I don't want spook messages that way! I don't mind a +nice little Ouija or Planchette, but a common, blowsy, untidy medium +person,--and they're all like that,--I can't stand for!" + +"Why, you little rascal, what do _you_ know about mediums?" Peter Boots +frowned at her. + +"I went to a _séance_ once,--but, wow! never again!" + +"I should hope not! You stay away from such places, or I won't come home +to you at all,--dead or alive! How would you like that?" + +"Not at all, oh, despot, oligarch, Grand Panjandrum,--or whatever you +call yourself. Please come back, and all will be forgiven." + +It was tea time in the Crane home, and though the home was only a summer +cottage, up Westchester way, yet the big living room, with its +hospitable easy chairs and occasional tables, its willow and chintz, +gave an impression of an English household. It was late in July and, +though warm, it was not sultry, and the breeze coming in at the big +windows was crisp and fresh. + +Mrs. Crane drifted into the room almost at the same moment two men +appeared from outdoors. + +A happy complacency was the chief attribute of Peter's mother, and this +spoke from every smile of her amiable face and every movement of her +plump but still graceful form. + +As Peter adjusted the cushions she took a low willow chair and smiled a +greeting at all, including the newcomers. + +These were Kit Shelby and Gilbert Blair, the two companions of the +Labrador trip. + +They were good-looking, well set-up chaps, quite evidently unable to +talk of anything save the plans for the momentous journey. + +"Got a wonder for a guide," began Shelby, as soon as decent greetings +had been made. "He's just been let loose by Sir Somebody of Somewhere, +and I nailed him. Name o' Joshua,--but we can stand that. He really +knows it all,--without continually proclaiming the fact." + +"I'm thankful that you've a fine guide," murmured Mrs. Crane, in her +satisfied way. "It means so much to me to know that." + +"You're right, Lady Crane," assented young Blair. "And old Peter will +have to obey him, too." + +"Of course I shall," put in Peter. "I always bow to authority, when it's +greater than my own. Oh, won't it all be great! I'm crazy to start. +Think of it, Dad,--we three fellows sitting around a camp fire, smoking +our pipes and spinning yarns of an evening, after a long day's hike over +the ice and snow!" + +"Thought you were going in a canoe," said his sister. + +"Part of the way,--but, later, we abandon the craft and hoof it." + +"Maybe and maybe not," said Shelby. "It all depends on the weather +conditions. But the season is just right, and we'll have good going, one +way or another, I'm sure." + +"You're the surest thing I know, Kit," Gilbert Blair said; "now with no +hint of pessimism, I own up I look for pretty hard lines a good bit of +the time." + +"Calamity Howler!" returned Shelby; "why damp our enthusiasm like that?" + +"Can't damp mine," and Peter beamed with glad anticipation. "Let the +hard lines come if they like. I'm expecting them and expecting to enjoy +them along with the rest." + +"Pollyanna Peter!" chaffed Carlotta; "shan't you mind it if the blizzard +blows down your tent and the dogs run away with your dinner and your +feets give out?" + +"Nixy! I'll set up the tent again, get some more dinner from the larder +and rest my feet for a spell." + +"That's right, boy," said his father, "that's the spirit. But do take +enough provisions and, if they run low, make a dash for home." + +"Just my idea, Dad, exactly. And as Shelby's looking after the +commissariat, and Blair attending to the tents and cooking outfit, +something tells me they'll be top hole. Maybe not such traps as +these----" and Peter nodded toward the elaborate tea service being +brought in and arranged before Mrs. Crane, who was in her element as +hostess. + +"No, you poor boys," she said, "I suppose you'll drink out of horrible +thick china----" + +"Not china at all, ma'am," corrected Blair; "lovely white enamel, +though, with blue edges----" + +"I know!" cried Carlotta, "like our motor lunch-box." + +"Yes, that sort, and not bad, either. Oh, we'll rough it more or less, +but it won't be absolutely primitive,--not by a long shot!" + +"It'll be absolutely perfect," said Peter, dreamily gazing off into +space, and seeing in his mind great white stretches of snowy landscape, +or black, gurgling holes in ice-bound rivers. + +"You are so ridiculous!" declared his sister. "You're a regular Sybarite +at home. You love easy chairs and pillows and fresh flowers all about, +and all that,--then you want to go off where you'll have nothing nice at +all,--not even a laundry!" + +"Right you are, Sis. The Human warious is hard to understand. Come +along, Carly, take me for a walk." + +Rather slowly the girl rose, and the two sauntered forth, across the +wide veranda, across the lawn and down a garden path. Neither spoke +until, coming to a marble bench, they sat down and turned to look into +each other's eyes. + +"Going to say yes before I go, Carly, or after I come back?" + +"After you come back," was the prompt response. + +"Oh, good! You promise to say it _then_?" + +"Well, I don't say how _soon_ after." + +"I'll decide on the soonness. Then I take it we're engaged?" + +"You take it nothing of the sort! You know, Peter Crane, you can't boss +me as you do your own family!" + +"Heaven forbid! Why, dear, I want you to boss me! Our life together will +be one grand boss,--and you can be it!" + +"Don't be silly, I'm in earnest. I couldn't be happy with a dominating, +domineering man." + +"Of course you couldn't. But I assure you I'm not one. You see, I only +dictate in my own family because they like to have me to do so. Mother +would be awfully upset if I didn't tell her what to do. Dad the +same,--although I'm not sure the old dear knows it himself. And as for +Julie,--why she just depends on me. So I naturally gravitate to the +place of Grand Mogul, because I can't help it. But with you, it's +different. You're a whole heap wiser, better and more fit to rule than +I. And if you'll rule me, I'll be greatly obliged,--honest, I will." + +"Oh, you're so absurd, Peter! I don't want to rule, either. I want us to +be equally interested in everything, and have equal say in any matter." + +"All right,--equality goes. I'll race you to see which can be the +equalest. Now, are we engaged?" + +"No, Peter, not till you come back." + +"But I want to kiss you, and I can't, I suppose, until we are engaged. +Oh, can I?" + +"Of course not! Take your hand off my hand." + +"Lordy, can't I even touch your hand?" + +"Not with that ownership grasp! I am afraid of your possessive +qualities, Peter." + +"Meaning just what?" + +"Oh, that if I do give myself to you, you'll own me so--so +emphatically." + +"I sure shall! And then some. Don't imagine, my child, that I'll accept +you with any reservations. You'll be 'mine to the core of your heart, my +beauty'! Bank on that!" + +"I do,--and if I'm yours at all,--it _will_ be that way. But wait till +you come back. There's time enough. I suppose there's no chance for +letters?" + +"No; not after the first few days. We'll be out of reach of mail very +soon." + +"And you're returning?" + +"I want to be home for Christmas. Kit thinks we'll make it, but Blair +is some doubtful. So, look for me when you see me." + +"Alive or dead?" + +"Carly! What made you say that?" + +"I don't know." The girl shuddered and her eyes stared into Peter's. "I +seemed to say it without any volition,--the words just came----" + +"Well, don't let them come again. I don't like it a little bit. I'm +coming home alive, very much alive,--and I'm coming home to claim +you,--remember that." + +"Unless either of us falls in love with some one else. Those girls of +the far North are beautiful, I hear." + +"An Eskimo with a nose ring? No, thank you! My heart is true to Poll! +But don't you go and set your somewhat fickle heart on another man, +'cause if you do, I shall have to kill him, much as I'd regret such a +necessity." + +"My heart isn't fickle! What do you mean?" + +"Just what I say. I think it is. I think my little black-eyed, +rosy-cheeked Carly is quite capable of being on with a new love whether +she's off with the old or not." + +"Oh, Peter," and the black eyes showed moisture, "how cruel you are!" + +"Isn't it so, Carly? Tell me it isn't,--I'll be so glad!" + +But the coquettish glance that answered him was not entirely +reassuring. + +"Anyway," Peter pleaded on, "tell me you like me better than Kit or +Gilbert. Tell me that if I'm a prey to green-eyed jealousy up there in +the camp, at least, I needn't envy either of those chaps." + +"Of course not!" + +"Oh, you torment! Your words are all right,--but your emphasis is a +little too strong. Carly, look me straight in the eyes and tell me you +don't care for either of them!" + +"Either of your eyes?" + +"Silly! Well, yes, then, tell me that!" + +The chicory flower eyes looked into the great, dark ones, and for a +moment there was silence. The blue eyes were sweet and true, and they +burned with a strong, deep lovelight. The eyes that gazed into them fell +a little and seemed unable to meet them squarely. + +"What is it, Carly? What is it, dear?" he begged. + +"Nothing," she said, lightly. "I do l-like you, Peter,--better than any +man I know----" + +"Better than Kit Shelby?" + +"Yes." + +"Better than Gil Blair?" + +"Yes." + +"They're the ones I most feared. And mostly because I didn't want to go +on a trip with a man I'm jealous of! That would be a fine kettle of +fish!" + +"Well, you won't do that. Don't worry about them,--or any one else." + +"Oh, you blessed little girl! Carly, dearest, why can't you say yes, +now? Won't you, Carly,--please." + +The caressing voice was low and gentle, the pleading blue eyes were very +earnest, but Carlotta still shook her head. + +"When you come back," she repeated. + +"All right, then," and Peter's face showed one of its masterful looks. +"I'll accept your decree,--as I can't very well help myself, but just as +sure as you're sitting there, Carly Harper, I'm going to kiss you!" + +And he did; gathering her into his arms with a gentle insistence and +kissing her squarely on her surprised red lips. + +"There!" he said, "I guess you'll remember now that you belong to +me,--whether you call yourself engaged or not! Mad?" + +"Yes," she responded, but the one swift glance she gave him belied her +words. + +"You'll get over it," he said, cheerfully. "I'd like to kiss you again, +though. May I?" + +"When you come back," she said, and Peter waited. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The Labrador Wild + + +It was late in July before Peter Boots marshaled his merry men and let +himself be marshaled by the guide, Joshua, on the trip of exploration +and recreation. + +A liner took them as far as Newfoundland, and at St. John's, a smaller +steamer, the _Victoria Lake_, received them for their journey farther +North. This ship belonged to a sealing fleet and also carried mails. It +was not especially comfortable, and neither staterooms nor food were of +the best. + +But Peter was discomfort-proof, and his negligence of bothersome details +and happy acceptance of existing conditions set a standard for the +manners and customs of their party. Joshua, who had come to New York +City to meet them, was not, by nature, possessed of the sort of heart +that doeth good like medicine. But under the sunny smile of Peter's blue +eyes, his customary scowl softened to a look of mild wonder at the +effervescent gayety of the man who was yet so efficient and even +hard-working when occasion required it. + +Shelby was a close second in the matter of efficiency. He was a big +chap, not handsome, but good-looking, in a dark, dignified way, and of a +lithe, sinewy strength that enabled him to endure as well as to meet +hardship bravely. + +Not that they looked especially for hardships. Discomfort, even +unpleasantness, they did anticipate, but nothing of more importance than +inclement weather or possible colds or coughs. And against the latter +ills Mrs. Crane had provided both remedies and preventions to such an +extent that some were discarded as excess weight. + +For the necessities of their trip, including as they did, canoe, tent, +blankets, tarpaulins, duffel bags, shooting irons and cooking +utensils,--besides food, were of no small bulk and weight even divided +among four porters. + +And Blair, though possessed of will and energy quite equaling the +others', was less physically fit to stand the hard going. + +It was already August when they were treated to a first sight of the +Labrador. + +"Great Scott!" exclaimed Shelby, "and Shackelton, and Peary,--yes and +old Doc Cook! What an outlook! If those breaking waves were looking for +a stern and rockbound coast to dash on, they missed it when they chose +the New England shore instead of this! I've seen crags and cliffs, I've +climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, but this puts it over all +the earth! How do we get in, anyway?" + +"Great, isn't it?" and Peter lay back in his inadequate little deck +chair and beamed at the desolation he saw. + +For the coast of Labrador is nearly a thousand miles of barren bleakness +and forbidding and foreboding rock wall. After buffeting untold ages of +icy gales and biting storms the bare rocks seem to discourage human +approach and crave only their own black solitude. + +The one softening element was the fog that rode the sea, and now and +then swooped down, hiding the dangerous reefs until the danger was +increased tenfold by the obscurity. + +"Oh, great!" mocked Shelby. "You can have mine. I'm going to stay on the +boat and go back." + +"Yes, you are!" grinned Peter, knowing full well how little importance +to attach to that speech; "inside of a week, you'll be crazy about it." + +"I am now," said Blair, slowly. "Most weird sight I ever saw. The rocks +seem like sentient giants ready to eat each other. Termagant Nature, +unleashed and rampant." + +"Idea all right," said Crane, lazily, "but your verbiage isn't +hand-picked, seems to me." + +"You can put it more poetically, if you like, but it's the thing itself +that gets me, not the sand-papered description of it." + +"Nobody wants you to sand-paper it, but you ought to hew to the line a +little more nearly----" + +"Lines be bothered! Free verse is the thing for this place!" + +"I want free verse and I want fresh air," bantered Peter, "and Lasca, +down by the Brandywine,--or wherever it was that Friend Lasca hung out." + +"You're harking back to your school days and Friday afternoon +declamation," put in Shelby, "and Lasca was down by the Rio Grande." + +"Only Alaska isn't down there at all," Blair informed them, quite +seriously, and the others roared. + + * * * * * + +After delays, changes and transfers made necessary by the uncertainties +of Labrador travel, they came at last to Hamilton Inlet, and the little +steamer approached the trading post at Rigolet. + +"Reminds me of Hamilton Harbor, Bermuda," observed Shelby, shivering as +he drew his furs round him. + +"Oh, how can you!" exclaimed Blair; "that heavenly Paradise of a +place,--and this!" + +"But you'd rather be here?" and Crane shook a warning fist at him. + +"Yes,--oh, yes! This is the life!" and if Blair wasn't quite sincere he +gave a fair imitation of telling the truth. + +"Will you look at the dogs!" cried Crane. "I didn't know there were so +many in the world!" + +The big Eskimo dogs were prowling about, growling a little, and +appearing anything but friendly. Not even to sunny-faced and +kindly-voiced Peter Boots did they respond, but snarled and pawed the +ground until Joshua advised Crane to let them alone. + +"They're mighty good things to keep away from," the guide informed, and +his advice was taken. + +"I'm glad we have a trusty canoe instead of those villainous looking +creatures," Blair admitted, and when, later on, they heard tales of the +brutality and treachery of the pack dogs, the others agreed. + +At Rigolet final arrangements were decided on and last purchases made +for the dash into the wilds. + +Peter Boots, in his element, was as excited and pleased as a child with +a new toy. + +"Here I am, where I've longed to be!" he exulted; "at least, I'm on my +way. Buck up, you fellows, and enjoy yourselves, or you'll answer to me +why not!" + +"I'm for it," Kit Shelby cried; "I hated that dinky little old steamer, +but now we're ashore in this live wire of a place, I'm as excited and +glad as anybody. I say, the mail from England comes every year! Think of +that!" + +"Once a year!" wondered Blair. + +"Yep; the good ship _Pelican_ brought it yesterday, and it's due again +next summer! Up and coming, this place, I tell you!" + +"It nothing means to us," said Crane, calmly; "I'm expecting no +valentines from England myself, and we'll be back home before mails from +the States get around again." + +"And, moreover," said Shelby, who had been acquiring information by +various means, "old Captain Whiskers, forninst, says that we're bound to +get lost, strayed and stolen if we go the route we've planned." + +"That's our route, then!" Peter said, satisfiedly; "they always prophesy +all sorts of dismal fates, and, like dreams, they go by contraries. +'Fraid, boys!" + +He extricated himself from the onslaught this speech brought and then +all set about getting the outfit into shape for the start. + +Pounds and pounds of flour, bacon, lard, pea meal, tea, coffee, rice, +tobacco and other necessaries were packed and stowed and maneuvered by +the capable Joshua, before whose superior judgment Peter Boots had to +bow. + +Some natives were hired to help carry things that were to be cached +against the return trip, and three tired but happy men went to rest for +their last night beneath a real roof for many weeks. + +Next morning their happiness was even greater and their spirits higher, +for the day was clear and perfect, the air full of exhilarating ozone +and the golden sunlight and deep blue sky seemed to promise a fair trip +and a safe return. + +Gayly they started off, and gayly they continued, save when the rain +poured unpleasantly, or the swarms of Labrador flies attacked them or +steep banks or swift rapids made portage difficult. + +However as no threats or persuasions could induce Joshua to travel in +the rain, there were enforced rests that helped in the long run. + +Another trial was the midday heat. Though the temperature might be at +the freezing point at night, by noon it would buoyantly rise to ninety +degrees, and the sudden changes made for colds and coughs, that were not +easily cured by Mrs. Crane's nostrums. + +"Fortunes of war," said Peter, serenely, and Shelby responded, "If +that's what they are, I'm a regular profiteer!" + +Days went by, the hours filled with alternate joy and woe, but accepted +philosophically by willing hearts who had already learned to love the +vicissitudes of the wild. + +One morning a portage route was of necessity winding and rough. Not as +much as usual could be carried by any of them and two or three trips of +two miles must be made by each. + +Joshua arranged the loads to weigh about seventy pounds each, but these +became tiresome after a time. The work took all day, and when toward +sunset camp was made and the tired pleasure seekers sought rest, each +was far more exhausted than he was willing to admit. + +"Had enough?" asked Peter, smiling. "Turn back any time you fellows say. +Want to quit?" + +"Quit! Never!" declared Shelby. "Go home when you like, or stay as long +as you please, but no quitting!" + +"It's goin' be nice now," put in Joshua, who was always sensitive to +any discontent with his beloved North land. "Nice fishin', nice +sleepin',--oh, yes!" + +And there was. Rest that night on couches of spruce branches, that +rocked like a cradle, and smelled like Araby the Blest, more than knit +up the raveled sleeve of the hard day before. + +And when they fished in a small, rocky stream, for heaven sent trout, +contentment could go no further. Unless it might have been when later +they ate the same trout, cooked to a turn by the resourceful Joshua, and +then, lounging at ease before a camp-fire that met all traditions, they +smoked and talked or were silent as the spirit moved. + +The black firs showed gaunt against the sky; the stars came out in +twinkling myriads and the dash and roar of the river was an +accompaniment to their desultory chat. + +"If I were a poet," Blair said, "I'd quote poetry about now." + +"Your own, for choice?" asked Shelby, casually. + +"You _are_ a poet, Gil," said Peter. "I've noticed it all the way along. +You don't have to lisp in numbers to be a poet. You just have to----" + +"Well, to what?" asked Blair, as Peter paused. + +"Why, you just have to want to recite poetry." + +"Yes, that's it," put in Shelby, quickly; "understand, Gilbert, dear, +you don't have to recite it, you know, only want to recite it. If you +obey your impulse,--you're no poet at all." + +"I'll restrain the impulse then,--but it's hard--hard!" + +"Oh, go ahead," laughed Kit, "if it's as hard as all that! I'll bet it's +highbrow stuff you want to get out of your system!" + +"Yes, it is. In fact it's Browning." + +"Oh, I don't mind him. Fire away." + +"Only this bit: + + "You're my friend; + What a thing friendship is, world without end. + How it gives the heart and the senses a stir-up, + As if somebody broached you a glorious runlet----" + +"That'll do," laughed Peter. "That's far enough. And you didn't say it +quite right, any way." + +"No matter," said Blair, earnestly; "I mean the thing. Without any +palaver, we three fellows are friends,--and I'm glad of it. That's all." + +"Thank you very much," said Shelby, "for my share. And old Pete is +fairly overflowing with appreciation,--I see it in his baby-blue +eyes----" + +"I'll baby you!" said Peter, with a ferocious smile. "Yes, old Gilbert, +we're friends, or I shouldn't have picked us as the fittest for this +trip." + +"Good you did, for the fittest have the reputation of surviving." + +"Let up on the croaks," Peter spoke abruptly. "Have you noticed any +fearful dangers, that you apprehend non-survival of them?" + +"No; but----" + +"But nothing! Now, Blairsy, if you're in thoughtful mood, let's go on +with that plot we started yesterday." + +"What plot?' asked Shelby. + +"Oh, a great motive for a story or play. Setting up here in the Labrador +wilds and----" + +Shelby yawned. "Mind if I doze off?" he said; "this fire is +soporific----" + +"Don't mind a bit," returned Peter gayly; "rather you would, then Gil +and I can maudle on as we like." + +And they did. Both were of a literary turn, and though they had achieved +nothing of importance as yet, both hoped to write sooner or later. + +"A story," Peter said, "maybe a book, but more likely a short story, +with a real O. Henry punch." + +"H'mph!" came in a disdainful grunt from the dozing Shelby. + +"You keep still, old lowbrow," advised Peter. "Don't sniff at your +betters. There's a great little old plot here, and we're going to make a +good thing of it and push it along." + +"Push away," and Shelby rolled himself over and dozed again. + +"Where's Joshua?" asked Crane, later, as, the talk over, they prepared +to bunk on their evergreen boughs. + +"Haven't seen him since supper," said Shelby, sitting up and rubbing his +eyes. "Queer, isn't it?" + +Queer it surely was, and more so, as time went by and they could find no +trace of their guide. + +"He can't be lost," said Kit; "he's too good a scout for that." + +"He can't have deserted us," declared Peter. "He's too good a friend for +that! He'll no more desert us than we'd desert one another." + +"Well, he's missing anyway," Blair said, undeniably; "then something +must have happened. Could he be caught in a trap?" + +"Not he! he's used to them about. No, he's had an accident, I think." +Peter's eyes were anxious and his voice told of a fear of some real +disaster. + +The dusk fell early and though only about nine o'clock, it was as dark +as midnight. Clouds had obscured the stars, and only the firelight +relieved the black darkness. + +But after an hour's worriment and distress on the part of the three men +the guide returned. He looked a little shame-faced, and was disinclined +to reply to their questions. + +"Come, now, Joshua, own up," directed Peter; "I see by your eyes you've +been up to mischief. Out with it!" + +"I--I got lost!" was the astonishing reply, and they all burst into +laughter. More at the rueful countenance, however, than at the news, for +it was a serious matter. + +"You, a guide, lost!" exclaimed Shelby. "How did it happen?" + +"Dunno. Jest somehow couldn't find the way." + +"Hadn't you a compass?" + +"No, sir; I got sort of turned around like,--and I went a long hike the +wrong way." + +Simply enough, to be sure, but apparently it was only good fortune that +had made him find at last the road home to camp. + +Light-hearted Peter dismissed the whole affair with a "Look out after +this; and always carry a compass or take one of us boys along," and then +he sought his fragrant, if not altogether downy couch. + +Blair, too, gave the episode little thought, but to Shelby it seemed +more important. If a hardened guide could get lost as easily as that, it +might happen to any of them. And a compass was not a sure safeguard. A +man could wander round and round without finding a fairly nearby camp. +Shelby was a few years older than the other two, and of a far more +prudent nature. He had no dare-devil instincts, and not an overweening +love of adventure. He was enjoying his trip because of the outdoor life +and wildwood sports, but as for real adventure, he was content to omit +it. Not from fear--Kit Shelby was as brave as any,--but he saw no sense +in taking unnecessary risks. + +While risks were as the breath of life to Peter Boots. Indeed, he was +sighing because the conditions of modern camping ways and the efficiency +of the guide left little or no chance for risk of life or limb. + +He didn't by any means want to lose life or limb, but he was not at all +unwilling to risk them pretty desperately. And he found no opportunity. +The days were pleasantly taken up with fishing, shooting, moving on, +setting up and taking down camp, and all the expected routine of a +mountain expedition; but, so far, there had been nothing unusual or even +uncomfortable to any great degree. + +The next day brought a fearful storm, with gales and sleet and driving +rain and the temperature dropped many degrees. + +The party experienced their first really cold weather, and though it +depressed the others Peter seemed to revel in it. + +The tent was practically a prison, and an uncomfortable one, for the +wind was terrific and the squalls became hourly more menacing. + +Shelby was quiet, by reason of a sore throat, and Blair was quiet with a +silence that was almost sulky. + +Not quite though, for irrepressible Peter kept the crowd good-natured, +by the simple process of making jokes and laughing at them himself, so +contagiously, that all were forced to join in. + +But at last he tired of that, and announced that he was going to write +letters. + +"Do," said Shelby, "and hurry up with them. The postman will be along +any minute now." + +Peter grinned, and really set himself to work with paper and pencil. + +"I know what you're doing," said Blair; "you're beginning our story." + +"I'm not, but that isn't half a bad idea. Let's start in, Gil. We can +plan it and make up names and things----" + +"Why can't you really write it?" asked Shelby. "I should think it would +be the psychological moment. Isn't it to be all about the storms and +other indigenous delights of Labrador?" + +"You take that tone and I'll pitch you out into the indigenous +delights," threatened Peter. "Come on, Gilbert, let's block out the +backbone of the yarn right now." + +They set to work, and by dint of much discussing, disagreeing, +ballyragging and bulldozing each other, they did make a fair start. + +"What's the heroine like?" asked Shelby, beginning to be interested. + +"Like Carly Harper," said Blair promptly. + +"Not the leastest, littlest mite like Carly Harper," said Peter, his +blue eyes hardening with determination. + +"Why not?" demanded Blair, who cared little what the heroine was like; +but who objected to contradiction without reason. + +"Because I say not," returned Peter, impatiently. "The heroine is a +little rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired doll. She has blue eyes,--something +like mine,--and a saucy, turn-up nose, and a dimple in her left cheek." + +"A peach," said Shelby, "but no sort of a heroine for that yarn you two +fellows are spinning. I'm no author, but I'm an architect, and I can see +the incongruity." + +"If you know so much, write it yourself," said Peter, but not pettishly. +"If I'm doing it, I create my own heroine or I quit." + +"Oh, don't quit," begged Blair. "We're just getting a good start. Have +the treacle and taffy heroine if you like, only keep on." + +His point won, Peter did keep on, and a fair bit of work was +accomplished. For the first time it began to seem as if the two authors +would really produce something worth while. + +"Not likely," Peter said, as they talked this over. "I'm no sort of a +collaborator,--I'm too set in my ways. If I can't have it the way I want +it, I can't do it at all." + +"But you can have your own way in details," said Blair, musingly. "They +don't matter much. Give me the swing of the plot and let me plan the +climaxes, and I care not who makes the laws for the heroine's +complexion." + +"Well, I'm for a run in the rain," said Peter. "I've worked my brain +into a tangled snarl, and I must go out and clear it out." + +He shook himself into his storm togs, and as no one cared to go with +him, he started off alone. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +The Snowstorm + + +Given three good-natured young men, a satisfactory guide, a stretch of +Labrador wild, and no cares of any sort, it is not surprising that the +happy days and weeks followed one another into the maw of Time, until +the date of departure for home drew near. + +"I'd like to stay here forever," declared Blair, as he filled his pipe +and stretched luxuriously before the fire. "Civilization has lost all +charm for me." + +"Go away with you!" scoffed Peter Boots, "that's a fine, ambitious +spirit to show, and you a rising young author,--or about to become one." + +"Not unless you duff in and help, old chap. Our book hangs on your +efforts, I've pretty well done my part of it." + +"And I'll do mine, don't worry. I'm a procrastinator and a put-offer, +but I'll get there! Now, cut out the book till we get home. These last +few days up here must be given over to Nature as she is snowed under!" + +It was the last week in September, but snow-squalls were frequent, +winds were high and rains were cold and sleety. + +Joshua had been urging the homeward journey for several days, but the +men were loath to go, until now, a more severe bit of weather had +persuaded them. Even as they sat round the fire, with storm coats drawn +high up around their ears, the sleet-squalls drove against their faces +and the gale howled among the snowy trees. + +Peter loved the life, the outdoor days and tented nights, but his mind +once made up to leave, his volatile spirit turned toward home. + +"A couple of days more staving round in the snowdrifts and I'll be +ready," he announced, and Joshua began to pack up. + +The guide growled a little at the reluctance of his party to start. + +"You men wait too long, and you'll be sorry," he warned. "This wind +won't only let up for a little spell at a time,--mostly it'll blow like +somethin' let loose! And if a big snow comes,--and it's likely +to,--we'll be in a fix." + +"Now, now, old man," began Shelby, "don't growl. We've been a pretty +good sort, haven't we? We're going home, aren't we? Why croak at us?" + +"That's all right, sir, but meantime this Northwest wind keeps up its +force, and--well, it means business." + +"All right, we'll get the better of its business deal," prophesied +Peter, and he and Blair went off for a hike. + +As they started, the sun shone clear, and though the temperature was +below thirty, the two men strode along, happy with sheer physical joy of +living. + +"This is the life!" said Peter, flapping his arms, and watching his +breath congeal in frosty clouds. + +"Yes," Blair agreed, "to a certain point----" + +"Freezing point?" + +"I guess that's right! I like it all as well as you do, but it's nicest +when the sun shines. And by Jiminy, she's clouding over again!" + +Clouds meant cold,--a raw, penetrating chill that seemed to strike to +the marrow, and the pair were glad to turn back toward camp. + +"What do you think most about, when you think of home?" asked Blair, +idly. + +"Carly Harper," replied Peter, speaking from the fullness of his heart. + +"Good Lord! So do I!" exclaimed Blair, his tone that of surprise only. + +Peter turned and looked at him. "Not a chance for you, old chap," he +said. "Little Carly is waiting for me. Yeo, ho, lads, ho,--Yeo, ho!" + +"Oh, I say! Really?" Blair's consternation was almost comic. + +"Yes, sir! Fair warning,--keep off!" + +"Engaged?" + +"Same as." + +"Meaning she hasn't said a positive yes?" + +"Meaning that, if you like." + +"Then it's fair field and no favor! We're too good friends to +misunderstand, but let's call it a case of may the best man win." + +"All right, but I'll win and you can be best man at the wedding, how's +that?" Peter's eyes shone with good humor, and his happy face left Blair +little room for doubt as to Peter's own view of the case. What Carly +herself thought was another matter. + +But the two were too good friends to quarrel, and moreover, each knew +the other too well to mistrust him for a minute. It would, indeed, be a +fair field where they were concerned. + +"I didn't know you'd gone so far," said Blair, ruefully, "of course, +there's no chance for me." + +"I hope not," returned Peter, cheerfully. "But when we get back we'll +soon find out." + +"Perhaps find out that she's 'gone with a handsomer man,'" suggested +Blair. + +"Not impossible. I suppose there are such." + +But a disinterested observer, looking at Peter's fine, strong face, with +its radiant coloring, brought out by the sharp air, might not have +agreed. + +And then conversation became abstract, for the wind rose to a piercing +gale and it was all they could do to keep their balance and fight their +way along. + + * * * * * + +"I said this here wind was bound to ease up some time and it has," said +Joshua, with decided satisfaction, the morning of the start for home. +"We ought to make good goin' to-day, and maybe get ahead of our own +schedule." + +"That's the trick," said Shelby, "always get ahead of your own schedule, +and you're bound to succeed. Come on, Peter, here we go." + +The leave-taking was a bit silent, for all three had become attached to +the camp, and they gave long farewell glances backward. + +Then off they went, and throwing sentiment aside, turned their thoughts +and their talk to the coming journey. + +For home was yet a long way off. Many days' traveling before they +reached the mail boat and then many more before they could lift New York +Harbor. + +"And I'm glad of it," declared Peter. "The longer we are on the home +stretch, the better I'll be pleased." + +"Granting we don't miss the boat," added Blair. "When I start out I want +to arrive." + +It was about three days later that a big storm set in. Relentlessly it +blew and snowed and the gales were almost unbreastable. + +"Don't dare stop," said Joshua, in his usual laconic way; "the winter's +set in, and any day may be worse'n the day before. Old Merk is down to +twenty-four, and we want to peg ahead,--that's what we want to do." + +They did,--by day,--and by night they enjoyed the rest and warmth of +camp, but still, Joshua urged them ahead continually. + +He parceled out longer days and shorter nights, until even strong Peter +began to feel the strain. + +Shelby was of a wiry sort, and stood hard going well; Blair was a +patient, plodding nature and wouldn't have complained if he had dropped +in his tracks; but Peter was impulsive and impatient, and he growled +frankly. + +"We'll get there, Eli," he said to the guide; "don't hustle us so." + +"Got to do it, Mr. Crane. I know more about this here winter that's +closing in on us, than you do. It's a bit early, but it's sure!" + +So on they went, through snow that was wet and heavy, through icy sleet +that stung and cut their faces, through roaring winds that choked their +lungs, but full of indomitable courage and perseverance and of +unimpaired good nature. + +And yet a week of this traveling at last began to tell on their +_morale_. Not that they grew testy or irritable, but the silences were +longer, the repartee less gay, and even buoyant Peter's spirits drooped +a little. + +Joshua then took a turn as comforter. + +"The worst'll soon be over," he reassured them. "Two days will get us to +Big Lake, and once we finish that, we'll be well on our way." + +So on they pushed, heavily laden, traveling slowly, but all well and +sound in wind and limb. + +It was the middle of October, when a bright sunny day beamed on them and +their spirits rose in consequence. + +But Joshua did not smile. "Weather breeder," he said, laconically, and +looked gloomy. + +The others knew better than to call him a pessimist, for when Joshua +predicted weather, it came. + +And come it did. Not a squall; there was little if any wind, but a +snowfall. A steady, straight down snow that was so thick, so dense, they +could scarce see one another's forms. + +"Keep a-going," directed Joshua; "and for the land's sake, don't get far +apart. Stay close together, single trail, and close!" + +Thus they went on, the guide first, then Shelby, then Blair, then Peter. +There was no reason for the order they took, it merely happened that it +was so. + +They kept close, as directed, but the going was hard. If one stumbled, +one must recover quickly and hasten ahead not to lose sight of the +others. + +And the snow continued. Soft, white, feathery flakes, more and more +thickly falling every moment. Joshua plowed ahead, the others followed, +and each had all he could do to keep his eyes clear enough to see the +man in front. + +Which is how it happened that when Peter stumbled and fell, and found +himself unable to rise, the others had no knowledge of it. + +As the big man went down, he essayed to rise quickly, but his right leg +refused to move. + +"Broken!" he said to himself, as one noting a trivial occurrence. +"Queer, to break a leg, falling in a bed of soft snow!" + +But that was exactly what he had done, and realizing it, he set up a +yell that would have made a North American Indian envy its force and +volume. + +But for all the good it did, it might as well have been a whisper. The +wind, though not violent, was against him, and carried the sound away +from the plodding travelers. His friends could not hear it. Not looking +back, as indeed, they had no thought of doing, they did not miss their +fallen comrade and on they toiled, ignorant of the fact that they were +three instead of four now. + +And Peter,--big, strong Peter Crane,--brave, intrepid Peter Boots,--sat +there in the furious snowstorm, unable to rise, but with brain and mind +vividly alive to what had happened. + +Quick of thought, always, he now traced with lightning rapidity, just +what the future held for him--and such a short future, at +that--unless---- + +His only hope lay in his lung power. + +He yelled, screamed, whistled, hooted, and put all of his strength and +nerve force in his desperate efforts to reach the ears of his comrades. + +But it was impossible. The cruel wind drove his voice away from those it +was meant to reach, the snowflakes filled his open mouth as he shouted; +and as hope failed, strength failed and Peter faced his fate. + +Strong, able-bodied, save for the broken leg, he tried to crawl along. +The result was pitiful, for he merely floundered in the deep mass of +soft whiteness. His share of the luggage was heavy packs, nothing of +which he could make a flag of distress or even build a fire. He felt for +his matches, and lighting a cigarette, waved it aloft, almost smiling at +his tiny beacon. + +Then came despair. His mind seemed to grow more alert as his body was +overcome by the cold. His blood boiled, even as it froze in his veins. +He felt abnormally acute of intellect, and plead with himself to think +of something,--to invent something that would save his life. + +Yet he knew there was no hope. The fast-falling snow obliterated all +tracks almost instantly. Even though the others missed him, they could +never find him, and,--this thought struck a new chill through his +veins,--in a short time the snowfall would even obliterate him! + +What a death! Helpless; unable even to meet it standing, he must lie +there, and let the snow bury him alive! + +He could maintain a half-sitting posture,--but what use? Why not lie +down flat and get it over quickly? Yet he must hold on as long as +possible, for the men might come back,--he began to think what they +would do--but, he was sure they would not miss him until too late to do +anything. If the snow would only let up. It was such a pity to have his +whereabouts hidden by a foolish fall of snow! As Peter grew colder he +grew calmer. His senses mercifully became numbed at last, and as the +actual moment of his freezing to death came nearer and nearer, he cared +less and less. A state of coma is a blessing to many dying men, and into +this state Peter gently drifted, even as the snow drifted over and +covered his stiff, silent form. + + * * * * * + +And his friends trudged on; not that it could be called +trudging,--rather, they plodded, stumbled, pitched, fought and merely +achieved progress by blindly plunging ahead. + +It was nearly a half hour after Peter's fall that Blair, accidentally +turned round by a gust of wind, called out an exasperated "Halloo!" +which gained no response. + +"Halloo!" he repeated, "Peter! how goes it?" + +Still no return call, and Blair called to those ahead. + +They turned, and, huddling together in the storm, they looked at one +another with scared faces. + +"I warned you to keep close together," began Joshua, but forbore to +chide, as he saw the dumb agony in the eyes of the other two men. + +"Turn back," said Shelby, "and quickly. How long do you suppose he has +been gone? Has he missed the track? What happened, Joshua?" + +"He must have fallen," the guide replied. "Or maybe just strayed off, +blinded by the snow, and he's wandering around yet. He has a compass and +he knows where to head for. Small use our trying to turn back and find +him. He's 'way off by this time,--or, maybe, he ain't. Maybe he's close +behind,--we couldn't see him ten yards off in this snow." + +"I never saw such a thickness of white!" exclaimed Blair. "I've heard +that when snow is so white and feathery, it doesn't last long." + +"This snow does," returned Joshua, "and I tell you, Mr. Shelby, there's +no use turning back. We'd just waste our time,--maybe our lives----" + +"But, man, we can't go without Crane!" Shelby cried. "I won't go on and +leave him to his fate!" + +"'Tain't likely he's in any real danger," said Joshua, almost believing +his own statement. "If it was one of you two, now, I'd feel more +alarmed. But Mr. Crane,--he's got a head on him, and a compass, and he +knows the route we're taking,--he went over it with me before we +started. Lord knows I'd be the first one to go to his rescue, if it was +rescue he needed, but I don't think it is." + +"Rescue or not," said Blair, "I will not go on without Peter. You two do +what you like. I'm going to turn back and hunt for him." + +"So am I," declared Shelby, and the two turned to face the backward +trail. + +"All foolishness," muttered Joshua, "but of course, I'll go along." + +It was all foolishness, there was no doubt of that. The snow had covered +all signs of their own tracks, there was no road to follow, no landmarks +to go by. Though Joshua had pursued his route by compass, he could not +retrace it surely enough to find a lost man. + +However, they persisted; they dashed at snow-covered mounds only to find +them hummocks or rocks. They hallooed and shouted; they stared into the +snowy distance, hoping to discern smoke; but though their big, strong +Peter was less than half a mile away from them, they could get no hint +of his presence. + +Night came on. They built their camp fire of enormous dimensions, hoping +against hope that it might attract the lost man. + +None slept, save for a few fitful dozes from sheer exhaustion and grief. +Joshua stolidly insisted that Peter was undoubtedly all right, and +though they could scarcely believe it, this comforted the other two. + +Next morning they held council. Joshua was all for going on and giving +up the search for Crane. + +Blair, too, felt it a useless waste of time to remain, but Shelby begged +for a few hours. + +"If the storm abates just a little----" he began. + +"It won't," declared Joshua. "It's a little mite less windy but this +snowfall's only just begun. It won't quit for days,--lessen it turns to +rain,--and then the goin''ll be a heap worse." + +It didn't seem as if the going could be much worse. Already the men had +difficulty in moving because of their wet, half-frozen clothing. +Available wood was buried under the snow, their strength was becoming +impaired, and all things pointed to even worse weather conditions. + +Reluctantly Shelby and Blair agreed to Joshua's plans, realizing that +Peter might be all right and on his homeward journey, and further delay +might result in their own loss of life. For the outlook was menacing, +and Joshua's knowledge and advice were sincere and authoritative. + +And still it snowed. Steadily, persistently, uninterruptedly. There +seemed a permanency about that soft, downward moving mass that foreboded +danger and defeat to any one who remained to dare it further. + +And so they started again, half glad to go, half unwilling to leave. It +was the terrible uncertainty that told on them. They shrank from facing +the thought of what it would mean if they didn't find Peter, and forced +themselves to believe that they would meet him. + +Their objective point was a trapper's log house on the shore of the +lake. + +They reached it, tired, footsore, but full of hope for good news. A +quick glance round the tiny interior, consisting of but two rooms, +showed no smiling-faced Peter. + +A few words from Joshua to the trappers gave no cause for rejoicing, and +further conversation and explanation revealed the fact that the +experienced trappers had no doubt as to Peter's fate. + +Nor did they blame Joshua in any way. Had he stayed for a longer search, +they averred, there would have been four dead men instead of one. + +And then both Shelby and Blair realized that Joshua's expressed +hopefulness of finding Peter safe at the end of their journey was merely +by way of urging them to move on, knowing the result if they did not. + +They also realized that he was right. The opinions and assertions of the +experienced trappers could not be gainsaid. The two came to know that +there was but one fate that could have overtaken their comrade and that +there was no hope possible. + +If Shelby had a slight feeling that Blair ought to have looked back +oftener, he gave it no voice, for he knew he himself had never looked +back with any idea of watching over Blair. To be sure the last one of +the four was in the most dangerous position, but Peter had come last by +mere chance, and no one had given that point a thought. + +They surmised something must have disabled him. Perhaps a cramp or a +fainting spell of exhaustion. But it was necessarily only surmise, and +one theory was as tenable as another. + +Long parleys were held by Blair and Shelby as to what was best to be +done. It proved to be impossible to persuade any one to start on a +search for the body of Crane. The winter had set in and it was a +hopeless task to undertake in the snows of the wild. No, they were told, +not until March at the earliest, could a search be undertaken, and there +was small chance of finding the body until later spring melted the snow. +It was to be an especially bad winter, all agreed, and no pleas, bribes +or threats of the men could move the natives from their decision. + +Then, they debated, should they go home, or wait till spring? + +The latter plan seemed foolish, for it was now nearly November and to +wait there idly for five or six months was appalling. Moreover, it +seemed their duty to go home and report Peter's loss to his father, even +if they returned in the spring to search for the body of their chum. + +The last boat left for Newfoundland the middle of November, and they +concluded that if there was no news of Peter by that time they would +sail on it. "I feel cowardly to go," said Shelby, whose brain was weary, +working out the problem of duty. "Yet, why stay?" + +"It's right to go," Blair said, gravely. "You see, Mr. Crane must be +_told_,--not written to." + +"One of us might go,--and one stay," Shelby suggested. + +"No use in that," Blair said, after a moment's consideration; "the +remaining one couldn't do anything." + +"You men talk foolishness," said Joshua, gravely. "Mr. Peter Crane is by +this time buried under eight feet of snow. You can do nothing. You'd +both better go home." + +So they went + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +The Prophecy Recalled + + +The steamer from Newfoundland that brought Shelby and Blair to New York +arrived during Christmas week. + +The two men, however, were far from feeling holiday cheer as they +reached the wharf and faced the hard trial of telling Mr. and Mrs. Crane +of their son's death. + +But it had to be done, and they felt it their duty to lose no time in +performing the sad errand. + +No one met them at the steamer, for its hour of arrival was uncertain +and they had discouraged their friends from the attempt. + +Indeed only telegrams from Newfoundland had apprised any one of their +arrival, for letters would have come by the same boat they came +themselves. + +"Let's go straight to the Cranes' and get it over," said Blair; with a +sigh. "I dread the ordeal." + +"So do I," Shelby confessed. "I wish we could see Mr. Crane alone, +first." + +"We must do that, of course. It's only eight o'clock, and we're ready to +start now. Come ahead." + +They sent their luggage to their homes and took a taxi for the Crane +town house, on upper Park Avenue. + +By good fortune, Mr. Crane was at home and received them in his library. +They had asked to see him alone, giving no names. + +"My stars, if it isn't the wanderers returned!" exclaimed their host, as +he entered and saw the two. "Where's my boy? Hiding behind the window +curtain?" + +But the expression on his visitors' faces suddenly checked his speech, +and turning pale, Benjamin Crane dropped into the nearest chair. + +"What is it?" he whispered, in a shaking voice. "I know it's bad news. +Is Peter----" + +"Yes," said Shelby, gently, but feeling that the shortest statement was +most merciful. "The Labrador got him." + +By a strange locution, Labrador, as we call it, is spoken of up there as +The Labrador, and the phrase gives a sinister sound to the name. It +personifies it, and makes it seem like a living menace, a sentient +danger. + +"Tell me about it," said Benjamin Crane, and his tense, strained voice +told more of his grief than any outburst could have done. + + * * * * * + +"Lost in the snow! My little Peter Boots----" he said, after he had +listened in silence to their broken recital. "Tell me more," he urged, +and eagerly drank in any details they could give him of the tragedy and +also of the doings of the party before that last, fatal day. + +Blair looked at him in secret amazement. How could the man take it so +calmly? But Shelby, a deeper student of human character, understood how +the fearful shock of tragedy had stunned the loving father-heart. Slowly +and quietly, Shelby related many incidents of the trip, drew word +pictures of Peter in his gayest moods, told tales of his courage, +bravery and unfailing good spirits. + +But, though these things interested Crane and held his attention, there +was no way to lessen the poignant sorrow of the last story,--the account +of the terrible storm and the awful fate of Peter. + +Shelby broke down, and Blair finished, with a few broken sentences. + +The deep grief of the two, the sincere love of Peter and sorrow at his +death proved better than protestations that they had done all mortal +effort could do. + +"I am not sure, sir," Shelby said, finally, "that we acted wisely, but +it seemed the only course to take. We could not persuade any one to go +for us or with us in search of Peter's body, until March at the +earliest. To go alone, was mere suicide, and though I was tempted to do +even that, rather than to return without him, it would not have been +allowed." + +"Oh, I understand perfectly," Crane said, quickly, "I wouldn't have had +you do otherwise than just as you did. There was no use trying the +impossible." + +"But we will return in March----" began Blair. + +"Perhaps," said Crane, a little preoccupied in manner, "or I will send a +search party myself. There's no reason you boys should go." + +This was a real relief, for though more than willing, the two men were +far from anxious to undertake the gruesome errand. + +"And now," their host went on, "if you agree, I'll send for Mrs. Crane. +At first, I thought I'd rather tell her the news when we were by +ourselves,--but, I know there are questions she will want to ask you, +things that I might not think of,--and I know you'll be willing to +answer her." + +All unconscious of the scene awaiting her, Mrs. Crane came into the +room. + +A bewildered look on her sweet, placid face showed her inability to +grasp the situation quickly. + +Then, "Why, boys," she cried, "when did you come home? Where's Peter?" + +To the others' relief Benjamin Crane told his wife of their mutual loss. +Very gently he told her, very lovingly he held her hand and comforted +her crushed and breaking heart. Shelby and Blair instinctively turned +aside from the pitiful scene and waited to be again addressed. + +At length Mrs. Crane turned her tear-stained face to them. Not so calm +as her husband, she begged for details, then she wept and sobbed so +hysterically she could scarcely hear them. Her thoughts flew back to the +years when Peter was a lad, a child, a baby,--and her talk of him became +almost incoherent. + +"There, there, dear," Benjamin Crane said, smoothing her hair, "try to +be quieter,--you will make yourself ill. Perhaps, boys, you'd better go +now, and come round again to-morrow evening." + +"No, no!" cried Mrs. Crane; "stay longer,--tell me more. Tell me +everything he said or did,--all the time you were gone. Did he know he +was going to die?" + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Crane," Shelby assured her. "It was an accident, you see. +The storm was beyond anything you can imagine. The wind was not only icy +and cutting, but of a sharp viciousness that made it impossible to hear +or to see. Almost impossible to walk. We merely struggled blindly +against it,--_against_ it, you understand, so that if Peter, who was +behind, had called out, we could not have heard him." + +"Why was he last?" demanded Mrs. Crane. + +"It happened so," replied Shelby. "I've tried hard to think if we were +to blame for that,--but I cannot see that we were. Whenever we walked +single file, we fell into line in any order. The subject never was +mentioned or thought of. And so, that day, Peter was the last one. If +Blair or I had fallen or been overcome by the cold,--which is what we +know must have happened,--we would have been seen by Peter, of course. +But when he gave out, no one looked backward." + +"You had been trudging like that long?" asked Crane. + +"Oh, yes, for hours. We were all pretty nearly all in, but Joshua +wouldn't let us stop,--dared not, in fact, for he knew the danger of +that storm far better than we did. No, Mr. Crane, on the part of Blair +and myself, I want to say that we had no thought other than our +individual progress. That was all any one could think of, as Peter +himself would say if he could speak." + +"He has spoken," returned Crane, quietly; "he did say it." + +"What!" exclaimed the two men together. + +"Yes," the older man went on; "I think I will tell you, though I had +half decided not to: What do you say, Mother?" + +Mrs. Crane looked up. Her expression of dumb despair gave way to a look +of quiet peace as she said, slowly: "Yes, dear, tell them. But let it be +held confidential." + +"You'll promise that, boys, won't you?" asked Crane, and only half +understanding Blair and Shelby promised. + +"Well, it was this way," Crane began, "You know we couldn't get letters +from you chaps all the time you were away,--except the few early ones. +Of course we knew that before you went, but we didn't realize how +lonely we would be without Peter Boots. Whenever he has been away before +we could hear from him frequently. Julie is a dear girl, but she is a +busy little butterfly, and many a time my wife and I are alone of an +evening." + +"And we're happy enough together," Mrs. Crane put in, gently; "but being +alone, we naturally talked a great deal of Peter, and--and we couldn't +help remembering the Gypsy's warning." + +"Oh, I'd forgotten that!" exclaimed Blair. "What was it, now?" + +"A prophecy that Peter would go on a long journey, and would meet with a +terrible death. Now, the prophecy is fulfilled." Mrs. Crane's face, as +she gazed upward, her eyes filled with tears, was like that of a seeress +or prophetess. She appeared exalted, and unconscious of her grief for +the moment. + +"And there was further prophecy," Benjamin Crane continued, "that after +his death, Peter would return. And when I say he has done so, I expect +you to respect my story and not to doubt its truth." + +"We shall most certainly respect your story, and no one could doubt your +veracity, Mr. Crane," said Shelby, sincerely, though with a mental +reservation that believing in Benjamin Crane's veracity did not +necessarily mean subscribing to his hallucinations. + +Blair's face showed his interest and curiosity, and Benjamin Crane went +on with the tale to a breathlessly absorbed audience. + +"It did come about, I've no doubt, because of our talks of Peter; and +also, because we chanced to hear of some neighbors who had wonderful +success with a Ouija Board." + +A sudden, involuntary exclamation on the part of Blair was immediately +suppressed by a warning glance from Shelby. It would never do to show +scorn of the Ouija Board and all its works in the presence of this +afflicted couple. If any comfort from its use had reached them or could +reach them, it must be a blessing indeed. + +"Yes," Crane said, catching the meaning of the look on Blair's face, "I +know how you feel about such things, but just reserve judgment until you +hear our experiences. We bought a Board, and mother and I tried to use +it alone. We had no success at all. It would spell nothing +coherent,--only meaningless jumbles of letters,--or simply refuse to +move. Of course, you understand, we had no thought that our boy was--was +in any danger,--but we had been told that sometimes living persons +communicated by such means. So we persevered, but we never got a +message." + +"Then what happened?" asked Blair, eagerly, seeing from the faces of the +older people that something had. + +"Why then," Mrs. Crane spoke now,--"we found somebody to help us. I'd +rather not tell the name,--it was a lady----" + +"A medium?" asked Shelby. + +"Oh, no! I mean, not a professional medium,--a lady we've known for +years. She had had some experience with the Board, and she tried it with +us. And then,--you tell it, father." + +"Then," said Mr. Crane, speaking very seriously, "then we got a message +from Peter. The message said that he had died in the snow." + +"What!" cried Shelby, "incredible! When was this?" + +"In November." + +"Peter died the seventeenth of October." + +"Yes, and it was the tenth of November that we had the message." + +"Just what did it say?" asked Blair, his eyes wide with amazement. + +"It was a little stammering and uncertain, as if hard to get it through. +But the Ouija spelled out Peter's name, and when she--Miss--when the +lady with us asked if it had a message from Peter, it pointed to 'yes.' +Then she tried to get the message. But the words were a little mixed up. +There was _snow_ and _ice_ and _storm_ and at last the word _dead_. When +we asked if Peter had died in a snowstorm the Board said yes. So, we +knew the prophecy was fulfilled at last. The news you brought us was +corroboration, not a surprise." + +Shelby restrained himself by an effort. His sharp glance at Blair made +him keep quiet also. Neither was at all impressed at the story Crane +told them, except to be moved to ridicule. Well they knew how a Ouija +Board will make glib statements as startling as they are untrue. + +But this one happened to be true. Even so, the fact of its relation by +such means was unbelievable to both the hearers. + +Yet, they could not disturb the faith of the parents of their lost chum. + +"I am glad, for your sakes, that you had a premonitory warning," said +Shelby, in all sincerity. "Such things are indeed beyond our ken. Did +you get any further details?" + +"No," said Crane; "but, I learn, you have no further details yourselves. +My boy perished in the snowstorm, alone and helpless. What more is there +to know?" + +"Nothing that we could tell," spoke up Blair, a little excitedly, "but +surely, the spirit of Peter,--if it was he speaking to you,--could have +told more!" + +"It is clear you have had no experience in these matters," Crane said, +mildly; "the messages are not easy to get, nor are they concise and +clear, like a telegram. Only occasionally does one get through, and then +if it is informative we are duly grateful,--and not dissatisfied and +clamoring for more." + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Crane; I am inexperienced, but I assure you I am +not a scoffer. And of course, I believe your statements." + +"Of course!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, a little crisply. "Surely we would +not invent such a story!" + +"No, indeed," said Shelby. "It is strange, you must admit. Have you had +any further communications from Peter?" + +"A few," Mr. Crane spoke a bit reluctantly, for he could see that the +men were receptive from a motive of politeness, and not with sympathetic +interest. "He has sent other messages, but they would not, I fear, +convince you." + +"Now, don't blame us, Mr. Crane," Blair broke out, impetuously; +"remember, we're just from the place where we left Peter,--remember, we +love him, too,--and remember, if we could be convinced that he had +spoken we would be as interested as you are." + +"Well put, my boy," and Crane seemed greatly mollified. "Now, merely as +an admission of facts, do you believe that the Ouija Board gave the +messages exactly as I have detailed the proceedings to you?" + +"I do," said Blair, "that is, I believe you have told the exact truth of +what you observed." + +"Then, can you refuse to believe that the message came from the spirit +of my dead boy? Who else knew of his death? How could any one know of +it?" + +"True enough," and Blair shook his head, noncommittally. + +Crane sighed. "You don't believe," he said, but without annoyance. +"Yet, remember, greater minds and wiser brains than yours believe. Are +not you a little presumptuous to set your opinion against theirs?" + +"I don't mean to be presumptuous, Mr. Crane," Blair spoke decidedly, +"but I do think my opinion on this subject as good as any man's." + +"Then you are condemning the matter, unheard, which you will allow is +not strictly just." + +"Come, come, Blair," said Shelby, distressed at his attitude, "don't +discuss things of which you know nothing. Mr. Crane has gone deeply into +the subject and must know more about it than we do." He gave Blair a +positive glance of reproof, and tried to make him see that he must stop +combating their host's theories, if only for reasons of common +politeness. + +"But I'm interested," persisted Blair. "If Peter came here and told his +father he was dead,-- I want to look into these things. You see, it's +the first time I've ever been up against a real case of this sort. Own +up, Shelby, it's all mighty queer." + +Benjamin Crane looked kindly at Blair. "That's the talk, my boy. If +you're really interested, come round some night, and with you here, +Peter may talk through, all the better." + +"Rubbish!" Shelby thought, silently, but aloud, he only said: + +"Yes, Blair, do that. And drop the subject for the present. Is Julie at +home, Mrs. Crane?" + +"No; she's away for a few days. Poor child, she will be heartbroken. She +adored Peter Boots," and Mrs. Crane again gave way to tears. + +"What does Julie think about the messages?" asked Blair, thoughtfully. + +"We didn't tell her," said Crane. "She's so emotional, and--well, of +course, we couldn't help hoping that it mightn't be true. And, too, +Julie hates all talk of spiritism." + +"Sensible girl!" thought Shelby, as Mrs. Crane was saying: + +"But Julie went to Sir Rowland's lectures and she was deeply +interested." + +"Lectures?" asked Blair. + +"Yes; there have been a great many this season. I'm sorry you had to +miss them. They're over now. But I can't see how any one could listen to +that delightful man talk on such subjects in his beautiful way and not +be convinced of the truth of it all." + +"What did he say?" asked Shelby. + +"That's too big a question to be answered in a sentence," and Crane +smiled a little, "but he gave us incontrovertible proof that the spirits +of the dead return and communicate with their friends who are still on +earth." + +"Through a Ouija Board?" Blair inquired. + +"Yes; and by actual manifestation as well. I've never consulted a real +medium, but now that I know Peter is gone, I shall do so." + +"Don't!" Shelby said, quite involuntarily. Then, seeing the look in +Crane's eyes, he added: "Forgive me, sir, I have no right to advise. But +I've been told that all professional mediums are frauds." + +"We are told many things,--both for and against," returned Crane, "but +if Sir Rowland is willing to consult them, and believes in them, I'm +ready to sail under his flag." + +"Of course. And you've a perfect right to do so." Shelby felt he +couldn't control his real opinions much longer, and wanted to go. "May I +come to see you again, soon,--and talk over the matters of Peter's +things,--which, of course, we brought home? And, I'd like to see Julie." + +"She'll be home by to-morrow evening. Of course, we'll send for her. And +I know she'll want to see you both. Perhaps not just at first, but after +a few days. Please come to the house whenever you will,--just as you +used to do." + +"Yes, do," added Mrs. Crane, her lip quivering at the remembrance of the +old days when the boys were jolly together. + +"And Miss Harper, how is she?" asked Blair, who had been longing to put +the question for some time. + +"Well, as usual," replied Mrs. Crane. "She was here last night. She----" + +"She's a dear girl," Crane interrupted his wife, and a peculiar look +crossed his face. "You come round soon again, boys, but I fear we must +let you go now. My wife is keeping up bravely, but----" he glanced at +the little woman tenderly, and took her hand in his. "And I, too, don't +feel like talking more now. So good-night,--and, thank you for all your +good comradeship with my boy,--my Peter Boots." + +"We want sympathy, too, Mr. Crane," said Blair; "Peter was very dear to +us both. We're not given to spilling over, but we have lost a dear +friend and chum whose place can never be filled by another." + +"Right!" said Shelby, in a choked voice, and his handclasp with Peter's +father said the rest. + +But once on the street his exasperation broke forth in words. "I can +stand any sort of idiots," he said, "except spook idiots! They make me +want to go back to the Labrador!" + +"Sort of queer, though, that message,--from Peter----" + +"From Peter--nothing! Don't desecrate that boy's memory by even an +implication that he'd fiddle with a Ouija Board! Ugh!" + +"How do you explain it, then?" + +"There's nothing to explain." + +"You think Crane,--er--misstated?" + +"Oh, I think he thought he had a message,--but he was duped. They all +are. I know all about that Sir Rowland. I've read his books. He's dotty +on the subject. Keep off the rocks, Blair. You've a leaning that way, +and if you don't look out you'll fall for it, too." + +"Wonder why Mr. Crane shut his wife up when she started to say something +about Carly Harper." + +"Oh, that was nothing particular. Anyway, you can see Carly for +yourself. I expect she'll be hard hit by Peter's death. They were +practically engaged." + +"How'd you know?" + +"Peter told me,--not in words, bless his heart! He just let it out when +he was in a babbling mood. I mean, he let fall side remarks, and I just +gathered the truth. I didn't tell him I knew. Open-hearted as he was, +Peter was reserved in some ways." + +"Dear old chap, so he was. Our great work will never materialize now. +Unless I write it alone. I'd like to do that,--and publish it over both +our names, and explain in a preface." + +"Do," said Shelby; "it would please the old people a lot." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +Madame Parlato + + +Blair's first interview with Carly Harper was painful for both. The +Cranes had told her of Peter's death, but the sight of Blair seemed to +bring home to the girl a further and more vivid realization of her loss. + +"I wish now I'd been kinder to him," she said, her voice quivering. + +"Oh, come now, Carly, I know you weren't unkind." + +"No; but I wouldn't--wouldn't do what he asked me----" + +"Never mind, dear; I think I know what you mean, and, let me tell you, +old Peter was happy enough--about you. He seemed pretty sure that things +were coming his way." + +"Of course," the girl said frankly. "I only wanted him to go away, free, +and then if he still wanted me when he came back--and now he'll never +come back!" she gave way to silent weeping. + +"His parents say he has come back," offered Blair, more by way of +diversion than comfort. + +Carly looked up quickly. "They told you that?" she said. + +"Yes, told me pretty much all about their 'messages.' Foolishness, of +course, but it seems to comfort them." + +"It doesn't comfort me," and Carly sighed. "I don't believe in it, you +see." And she looked at him with a curious glance. + +"No; I don't either. But the old people do, and if it helps them bear +their grief,--why----" + +"Yes; I understand. How--how much did they tell you?" + +"All, I suppose. They said some medium,--well, not a professional, but +some friend of theirs,--helped them to get messages 'through,' as they +call it." + +"Didn't they tell you who the friend was?" + +"No; but they weren't mysterious about it. They simply didn't say. I +believe Julie doesn't like to have them try it,--the Ouija, I mean." + +"Oh, she feels as I do,--as anybody must,--if they like it let them have +it. She went to the lectures." + +"Everybody did, it seems." + +"Yes, the whole town went crazy on the subject. Is yet, but not quite to +the same extent." + +"The war brought it all about, of course. After a short time, the fad +will die out." + +"Yes, if it is a fad. But,--do you never think there may be a grain of +truth in it all?" + +"I haven't seen the grain yet, but I'm open to conviction." + +"Oh, well, I've no intention of trying to convince you. Tell me all +about your trip,--tell me all the queer experiences you had, and +everything you can think of. And tell me lots about Peter." + +Blair did her bidding. He described their life in the Labrador, told of +their exploits and discomforts and also of the glorious outdoor days and +nights that were so enjoyed by them all. + +"I'd love it!" Carly declared. "Oh, not all the tramping and portaging, +but the camp life." + +"Better try it nearer home. The Adirondacks would give you enough +excitement. There's no use braving that cold up there, and those fierce +storms." + +"If it hadn't stormed, Peter wouldn't have been lost, would he?" + +"Probably not. You see, we've mulled it over and over. He must have +fallen and hurt himself in some way, or he would have followed us +somehow." + +"He would have called out." + +"That's the point. The wind was in our faces, it was a villainous blast, +and nothing any one said could be heard by one in front of him, unless +they were near each other. If Peter had shouted, the wind would have +carried his voice back and away from us. That is undoubtedly what +happened." + +"Don't you think the guide was greatly to blame?" + +"No; he had no reason to look back at us, as if we were sheep. We had +always followed his trail, there was to all appearances no difference +between this trip and any other. We had breasted equally severe storms, +and come home, laughing. I feel sure Peter met with an accident,--or, it +may be,--probably enough,--his strength suddenly gave out, or even his +heart went bad, or something like that. Perhaps he couldn't shout. I +blame myself, of course, for not looking back sooner, but I do honestly +feel that it was not a culpable omission." + +"Of course it wasn't! I see just how it was. Great, big, stalwart Peter +was not a baby to be looked after by you others. But--oh, Gilbert,--it's +so dreadful to think of his dying there alone! Perhaps he--he didn't die +right away----" + +"Don't, Carly! Try not to think about that. Think only that old Peter +Boots is gone,--that he lived a fine, clean, splendid life, and met his +end bravely, whatever happened. And, too, I'm told that he couldn't have +suffered much. He must have lost consciousness very quickly." + +"Yes,--I suppose so. But--oh, Gilbert, I didn't know how much I cared, +until--until I lost him." + +"I know, dear,--it's awful hard for you. Come on, get your hat and let's +go over to Julie's. I haven't seen her yet, and I promised to call +to-day." + +They went to the Cranes', and found Shelby already there. + +It was tea hour, and several people were gathered about Julie's pretty +tea table. + +For the Crane family, though in mourning, received gladly the intimate +friends who had loved Peter, and who came, full of sympathy, to talk of +him. + +Julie received Blair with a warm welcome, but,--or at least so Blair +thought,--she was a little cool in her greeting to Carlotta. + +The two girls were pleasant enough, but there was an evident constraint +between them, and both turned quickly aside to talk to some one else. + +Blair pondered. He was by way of noting significant details and his own +interest in Carly Harper made him quick to resent any slight put upon +her. Not that Julie's attitude could be called really slighting, nor was +it more so than Carly's own, but there was some dissonance there. + +His observation, though veiled by a pleasant, general interest in +everything, was no less acute, and he continued to note that the girls +really avoided each other. It was none of his business, but he was +curious and surprised at a state of affairs so different from the +intimacy he had known them to enjoy of old. + +He bided his time, and at last, finding an opportunity, he spoke to +Julie alone. She still sat at the tea table, but all having been served, +she was idle and a little distrait. + +"I'm glad to see you again, Gilbert," she said, at last, looking at him +through tearful eyes, "but it makes me think of Peter, and--oh, +talk,--or I shall go all to pieces!" + +Knowing Julie's emotional nature, Blair tactfully talked, telling +Peter's sister of trifling occurrences that were interesting in +themselves rather than of personal import. He succeeded in restoring her +calm and at last a chance allusion brought up Carly's name. + +"What's the trouble between you two girls?" Blair asked, lightly. + +"Trouble? There isn't any," and Julie's blue eyes,--so like +Peter's,--looked straight at him. + +"Oh, just a school-girl squabble, is it?" + +"It isn't anything," Julie persisted, "why do you say that?" + +"Now, look here, Julie Crane, you can't fool me. I'm a mind reader, and +I see there's a rift in the lute that you and Carly used to play duets +on." + +Julie smiled at the way he put it, and said, half unwillingly: "Well, +you see, Gilbert, Carly's a snake-in-the-grass." + +"What! Oh, I say, Julie, don't talk like that! What do you mean?" + +"She's underhanded, sly, deceitful, dishonest----" + +"Stop, stop! You're losing your mind! Suppose you let up on vituperation +and do a bit of explaining. What has Carly done to merit those terms?" + +"What has she done? She has come over here,--when I've been away,--and +stirred up father and mother with that silly, hateful, vicious old Ouija +Board performance,--that's what she's done!" + +"Ouija! Carly! Surely you're mistaken." + +"Indeed, I'm not. Father and mother couldn't make the silly thing go at +all, till Carly helped them. She pushes it, of course,--and they are +gulled and duped----" + +"But, Julie, wait! Why should Carly do such a thing?" + +"Oh, she's got the fad. Lots of people have, you know. And I haven't--I +hate it all--and so Carly comes over when I'm not home." + +"And was it she who got the messages from Peter?" + +"Yes, it was; that is, she pretended to." + +Blair was amazed. Carly had given him the impression that she didn't +believe in occult manifestations. Why should she do that, if she had +assisted at the Crane _séances_? He hated to think of Carlotta Harper as +insincere, but--he mused--that sort of thing tends to make people +insincere. He came to a quick decision that he would observe for himself +and not seek further enlightenment directly from either of the two +girls. + +So he only said, carelessly, "There's no accounting for the doings of +people who are obsessed by that sort of thing. But, look here, Julie, if +it is any comfort to your parents to think they have messages from +Peter, you wouldn't disturb their belief, would you?" + +"No, I don't. That's why I don't have a real quarrel with Carly. I think +she knows I've discovered her part in it all, and I think she knows I +resent it; but, as you say, if it helps dear old dad and mother to bear +their grief, I'm willing they should wear out one Ouija Board after +another!" + +"Good girl. You attended the lectures, I hear." + +"Yes, and they meant nothing to me. What was produced as evidence seemed +to me no evidence at all. I'd like your honest opinion, Gilbert." + +"I didn't hear the lectures." + +"But you can read the books. Sir Rowland has written several, and there +are hundreds of others. Do read some, and see if you can find anything +in them--anything at all that is conclusive proof." + +"Proof of what? Of continuity of existence?" + +"Not that, no. But proof that the spirits of the dead have ever +communicated with the living." + +It was during this conversation that Benjamin Crane came in. He was +evidently in a happy mood, his face was radiant and his fine features +glowed with enthusiasm. + +"I've had such an experience," he exclaimed. "I've had a _séance_ with a +real medium----" + +"Oh, father!" Julie cried out, involuntarily, but he only smiled +benignly at her. + +"Just listen, Julie, dear. Reserve your comment till you hear it all. +Then we'll see." + +He drew his armchair nearer the fire and rubbed his hands to the blaze, +then settled back in comfort, taking the cup that Julie brought him. + +"Yes, yes," he went on, "a wonderful experience. You know," he looked +round, including all his hearers, for all present had drawn near to +listen, "you know I felt sure we had no real mediums here in America. +When Sir Rowland told of the trustworthy ones he has consulted in +England, I almost decided to go over there myself. But I heard of one +here in New York, and I investigated fully her credentials and +references before going to her. Truly, she is a marvel." + +"I thought they weren't allowed," observed Shelby, smiling a little. + +"'Not allowed' is sometimes a mere figure of speech," and Mr. Crane +smiled, too. "However, I was allowed to see her and have a real +_séance_--oh, Helen," he turned to his wife, "I can scarcely wait to go +there again and have you go with me." + +"Father, I can't stand this!" Julie's eyes were blazing. "Please drop +the subject--at least, for the present." + +"There, there, my daughter, don't lose your temper. If you don't want to +hear about this, you may be excused." He smiled at her lovingly but with +a decided intention. + +"You're all interested, are you not?" he went on, turning to the various +attentive faces, and receiving nods and words of assent. + +"Then I'll go on," and he glanced at Julie, who sat still, controlling +her expression of face but with tumult in her heart. + +"Take it easy," Shelby whispered to her, "you'd better hear it, you +know, whatever it's all about." + +"The lady," Crane said, "is a medium, well recommended by members of the +Society for Psychical Research, and by individuals who have been her +clients." + +"What sort of recommendations does she offer?" asked an interested +voice, "letters?" + +The speaker was McClellan Thorpe, a friend of Blair's, who shared a +studio with him. + +Thorpe was frankly skeptical, but by no means controversial. He asked +his question in an honest desire to know of the credentials. + +"Yes," returned Crane, "letters from many well-known Spiritists, +Psychics, Scientists and plain citizens, who are enthusiastic and +sincere in their praise of this lady." + +"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Crane, who, it was plain to be seen, +fairly hung upon her husband's words. + +"Madame Parlato," returned Crane. "She is no fraud, no charlatan, but a +refined, gracious lady, whose sympathies are as wonderful as her occult +gifts." + +Carlotta Harper, who sat by Thorpe, was absorbed in the tale, and her +large dark eyes glowed, with intense interest as she listened. + +"Tell us just what happened," she said, and Julie gave her a look of +mingled scorn and apprehension. + +"I will," Crane's deep voice went on. "The lady, you understand, knew +nothing of me or of Peter. I was careful about this, for I know there +are unscrupulous mediums, and I wanted to feel sure of this one's +honesty." + +"How do you know she'd never heard of you?" asked Thorpe. He had a +manner of speaking that was definite without being annoying. Apparently +he was curious, and not, necessarily, incredulous. + +"How could she?" returned Crane, "we have no mutual friends. I heard of +her through a comparative stranger, and I went to her at once. Don't be +carping, Thorpe, just wait till you hear my story. Well, she greeted me +pleasantly, and with a most courteous and lady-like demeanor. I had an +appointment, of course, and she directed me to sit at a table opposite +herself. I did so, and for quite a time nothing happened. + +"Then--she was not exactly in a trance, I should say, but rather she +seemed absorbed in deep thought--she said, 'I see a man, a fair-haired +man with a sunny, boyish smile. Do you recognize that description?' I +didn't say much, for I'm no fool to give myself away, you understand, +but I nodded assent, and she went on: 'He seems very active, full of +life and energy, and of a loving, affectionate nature.' You may guess +how I felt when she described Peter so exactly! I wanted to exclaim, +'Yes, that's my boy!' but I'm always careful not to help in any way. So +I just nodded, and she went on. 'He passed away about two or three +months ago, and he seems willing to communicate with me. What shall I +ask him?' + +"Now, I'm canny, you know, and I said, 'Make sure of his identity first. +Ask him what name we used to call him by?' And, will you believe it? +after a short pause, she said, 'Peter Boots!' She seemed surprised +herself at such a name. I thought I ought to tell her how true that was, +so I did. She looked pleased to think it was all right, and waited for +me to ask another question. So I said, 'Ask him how he died.' She did, +and he told her he was frozen to death in a fearful snowstorm. Think of +that! And I said, 'Ask him how it happened.' And she did, and Peter said +he couldn't exactly say--he lost consciousness, and he knew nothing more +until he found himself on the other side. He said for me not to grieve, +for he should carry on over there all he had attempted to do here. He +said he retained all his ambition and energy and hope--you know he was +blessed abundantly with those traits--and----" + +"Did he say he was happy?" asked Mrs. Crane, eagerly. + +"He said he was content, and though it was all a little strange as yet, +he was becoming accustomed to that life and did not wish to return." + +"Did he send any message to me?" urged the anxious mother. + +"I'm coming to that, dear. Yes, he said for you not to grieve for him, +but to think of him as busy and happy and entirely contented. Oh, Helen, +isn't it wonderful? I arranged for another _séance_, and you shall go +with me. She held out a hope of materialization later, but she wasn't +sure she could compass that for some time to come. You needn't look +skeptical, Thorpe; that expression on your face only proves your +ignorance of these things. I tell you, man, if it were somebody you +loved and cherished you'd be mighty glad to hear from him!" + +"Never mind my expression, Mr. Crane," Thorpe returned, looking +apologetic, "I'm deeply interested, I can tell you, and I'd like to hear +more." + +"There's little more to tell. It was a quiet session--none of that +curtained cabinet, tambourine-playing business, you understand; but a +plain revelation from my boy's spirit through the medium of a refined, +cultured woman. I'm sorry, now, I didn't take my wife with me to-day, +but I feared it might not be so agreeable, and I tried it out myself +first. But we will go together soon." + +Crane beamed happily, and it was impossible not to rejoice with him in +his delight and satisfaction at his experience. + +Julie, her lips pressed tightly together, made no comment on her +father's story. Christopher Shelby, who sat beside her, eyed her +covertly, not quite decided whether to speak to her on the subject or +not. + +He concluded to do so, and whispered, "How does it all strike you?" + +"I don't know," she returned, passing her hand across her white brow +with a wearied gesture. "If it had been those foolish cabinet affairs I +should have been disgusted, but the really nice woman,--as father +describes her,--and he never misrepresents,--gives a slightly different +face on it. Still, I can't believe----" + +"Shall you go to the next _séance_?" + +"I haven't been asked. I doubt if they'll want me. I wonder what Carly +thinks of it all." + +But Carlotta was talking with Blair and Mr. Thorpe, and their +conversation had no connection with the subject in hand. They were +discussing a wedding of two of their mutual friends, which had proved a +surprise to them all. Blair and Julie joined that discussion, and the +matter of the _séance_ was not again referred to by the young people. + +But on the way home Thorpe spoke his mind to Blair, who accompanied him. + +"How can a sensible, otherwise well-balanced man like Benjamin Crane +fall for that fake?" he exclaimed. "I've known Mr. Crane for years and +he never showed signs of paresis before!" + +"I don't attempt to explain it," returned Blair, casually, "but I do +know that lots of other equally hard-headed citizens are tarred with +the same brush." + +"That's true enough, but this is the first time I've run up against it +so closely. I say, Blair, how did the lingo tally with the facts of +Peter's death? Or would you rather not talk about it?" + +"I don't mind talking about it at all. Why should I, among Peter's +friends? As to facts, we know none ourselves except that he was lost in +the snow. You've no idea of that snow, Thorpe! It was like a thick, +white feather-bed, falling, falling continually. It was impenetrable to +sight or hearing. The wind blew it about some, but it fell so thickly +that it seemed a solid mass that we struggled through. And it was quite +all we could do to get along----" + +"Oh, don't think for a minute I feel you were in the least derelict! I +know you weren't. It merely chanced that Peter's heart gave out--or +whatever it was that did happen--while he was the last one of the +procession." + +"And not only that. If, say, I'd fallen, a man behind might not have +seen me go down. If we swerved ever so little from a straight line, and, +of course, we did,--couldn't help it,--we lost sight for a moment of the +man in front. And as we all went along, eyes down or closed much of the +time, we might have lost a man who wasn't walking last. I wish I could +make you see it, Mac! See the traveling, I mean. I've never progressed +against such difficulties." + +"I know, old chap. Do get out of your head that anybody blames any of +you in the least. And if they did, the blame would fall on the guide, +not on you fellows." + +"Joshua was not a bit to blame either. Surely you see that. It was every +man for himself,--and--fate took the hindmost! Oh, I hate to think about +it! It's even worse to me now than when it happened. The more I think +about it the more I grieve for dear old Peter. We were good pals, you +know." + +"I know it; we all were. Mighty few chaps like Peter Boots!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Strange Revelations + + +"Old man Crane's gone nutty," Shelby remarked. + +"Been going for some time," agreed Blair, and McClellan Thorpe nodded +his head decidedly. + +The three sat in the studio apartment occupied by Blair and Thorpe, who +had just returned from dining at their club. + +Shelby had come home with them, but was soon to leave to keep an +engagement. + +"You'll scarcely believe what I'm up to to-night," Shelby went on, "I'm +going to a _séance_ with Mr. Crane." + +"I say, Kit," remonstrated Thorpe, "I don't think you ought to encourage +him. He's daft enough on the subject now, and your approval makes him +worse." + +"I'm trying to stop him," Shelby said, quietly. "I think if I go to the +fool thing I can see how she works it and tell Mr. Crane, and he'll be +convinced of her trickery." + +"Are you convinced of it?" asked Thorpe. + +"I've never seen this one, but it's my opinion all professional mediums +are fakes," Shelby replied, seriously; "it may not be so, but I believe +I can tell after one investigation. I shall pretend to be greatly +impressed and all that, but I'll keep my eyes open. And I'm not going to +upset Mr. Crane unnecessarily. But if I think she's just fooling him +along for the money that's in it, I'm going to tell him so." + +"Even at that," Blair put in, "maybe it's worth the money to him to be +fooled. He's rich enough." + +"Maybe. But I hate to see a man swindled. However, I've agreed to go +with him once, and I'm glad to go. Good-by, I'll report results later." + +"You see," Blair said to Thorpe after Shelby had gone, "Kit and I can't +help feeling a sort of responsibility for this fad of Mr. Crane's. It +may be foolish and sentimental, but we feel an interest in Peter's +father, and we watch over him as if Peter had asked us to do so, which, +of course, he never did." + +"But the medium business is such awful rubbish," objected Thorpe. + +"It is and it isn't," Blair said, musingly. "It's six weeks now since we +came home, and all that time Mr. Crane has been receiving messages from +Peter, and every one of them that I've heard are sane and believable. +Moreover, Carlotta Harper has almost convinced me there's something in +it. That girl is a sort of medium herself. She denies it, says she only +uses her common sense, but I think she's clairvoyant." + +"There's a heap of difference between being clairvoyant, in a common +sense way, and being a fake medium! I don't care what Miss Harper does +with a foolish Ouija Board, but I'm like Kit Shelby, I hate to see +Benjamin Crane stung by a wily faker!" + + * * * * * + +Meantime Mr. Benjamin Crane was altogether enjoying the process that +Thorpe called stinging. + +Shelby, deeply interested, and looking innocently credulous, sat by +while the medium conducted the _séance_. + +Madame Parlato was, as Crane had asserted, a quiet-mannered, refined +looking woman, of a gracious and pleasant personality. She was tall and +fair, rather English in type, and spoke with a noticeable English +accent. She frequently ended sentences of simple statement with a rising +inflection and was addicted to the use of the word _very_, which she +pronounced _virry_. + +"You are a bit skeptical?" she said, with a careless glance at Shelby. + +"Only by reason of lack of occasions for belief," he returned. "I am, +however, open-minded and fair-minded enough to be willingly convinced. +You may or may not know, this son of Mr. Crane's was one of my closest +friends, and----" + +"Don't advance information, please," she remonstrated, "lest I be +thought to make use of it. I will ask you both to be quiet, whilst I +compose myself." + +"Hush up, Shelby," growled Crane, and Shelby did. + +The medium closed her eyes and leaned back in her armchair. + +She did not seem to be asleep, but she breathed heavily and a trifle +irregularly, and now and then gave a slight convulsive shudder. + +At last she spoke, very slowly, and in a voice decidedly different from +her own. Shelby couldn't quite make up his mind whether it seemed to him +like Peter's voice or not. + +The voice said, "I am here, father," and, after a moment's pause, +repeated the words. + +"Yes, yes," breathed Benjamin Crane, enthralled, as always, by the +sound; "talk to me, Peter, tell me things." + +"I can't talk much this time, father, it is hard to get through. There +is some obstacle." + +These words did not follow each other in natural succession, but came +haltingly, with waits between. Madame Parlato seemed unconscious of the +delays, and merely acted as a mouthpiece for the revelations. + +"What sort of an obstacle?" asked Crane. + +"An unbeliever is near," the voice hesitatingly asserted. + +"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Shelby, "tell him who I am!" + +"It's only Shelby," Mr. Crane said, "Kit Shelby. He's not really an +unbeliever, only inexperienced." + +"May I speak to him?" asked Shelby, as if permission were necessary. + +"Go ahead," consented Mr. Crane. + +"It's old Kit, Peter--Kit Shelby, who went on the trip with you." + +"Oh, Kit--all right--all right, old fellow--can't say much +to-night--something wrong----" + +"Well, but Peter," Shelby begged, "give me some sort of a sign--a test, +you know. I can't help wanting that." + +"All right," very slowly, "what test." + +"Let me see--well, tell me whose picture you carried in your watch +case." + +"Why, it was--Caroline--Caroline Harper." + +Shelby looked dazed. True, they had never called Carly Caroline, but the +Harper was undeniable, and the test quite near enough to the truth. + +The medium sat still, save for frequent slight shivers. Suddenly she +opened her eyes: + +"Who is talking?" she said. + +"I am," Shelby told her. "Please let me say a few more things." + +Madame Parlato's eyes closed, and she was motionless. + +"Are you still there, Peter?" asked his father, who was not at all +pleased with the presence of Shelby. It seemed to interfere with the +continuous talk he had hitherto enjoyed at the _séances_. + +"Yes, father. Is Kit there?" + +"Can't you see me, Peter?" + +"Not--not clearly. There's a haze in the room." + +There was no haze visible to the mortals present, but Shelby went +eagerly on. + +"Never mind seeing me, Peter, but do tell me this: What happened to +you?" + +"When?" asked the voice, with a far-away, fading sound. + +"When--when you died, you know. Oh, Peter, don't go away until you tell +us!" + +"Tell you--tell you--what?" + +"What killed you? How was it? Did you fall down?" + +"I--I fell down, yes." + +"In the snowdrifts?" + +"Yes, the snow was so cold--" + +"But why couldn't you get up? What happened to you? Did any attack----" + +"Yes, I was attacked. Attacked by a----" + +"What!" + +"By a wild animal of some sort." + +"Oh, Peter! What was it? Are you sure?" + +"No, not sure--but attack by----" + +The voice grew fainter and more incoherent, and in a moment the medium +sat up straight and shook her head. + +"He was troubled," she said, "I could see him though you couldn't, and +he was sad and worried." + +"What about?" asked Shelby, abruptly. + +"I'm not sure, but I think because he didn't want to tell the awful +details of his death." + +"What were they? Could you see them?" + +"Yes," she pushed her loose hair back from her brow, as if exhausted. +"Yes, I saw it like a picture, but like a clouded, indistinct picture. +The poor chap was fighting a wild beast! Oh, it was fearful!" she shut +her eyes and shook her head violently. "That's the worst of it, I see +too clearly." + +"Tell us more, then," begged Shelby. "How did Peter look?" + +"Glorious, transfigured! His face was shining and his eyes sparkling." + +"H'm--queer to look like that when he was so worried." + +"Oh, that was before the anxious look came. It is, I fear, difficult for +you to understand the conditions. The discarnate spirit has a sort of +secondary personality, not unlike a hypnotic state, and sometimes this +is jarred by any untoward influence and develops into a delirium, and +the statements cannot then be relied on. A novice always expects a +clear, definite style of speech from a spirit communicating through a +medium. This is not always the case. And the medium must merely take +what comes and repeat it without change or addition. If, therefore, you +are disappointed, I cannot help it. Surely you would not wish me to +embroider the messages I receive." + +"Surely not," returned Shelby, "indeed, I think it wonderful that you +succeeded in getting as much coherence and information as you did. It is +something to know that Peter was attacked by a wild beast, for, horrible +as is the news, it does explain why he couldn't proceed on the journey." + +"Yes," agreed Mr. Crane. "And I am so avid for word from my boy, that +even if the messages are disturbing and harrowing, I want them all. I +have always told Madame Parlato not to spare me. I prefer to know the +worst. For my boy is happy now. We have had several sittings; my wife +has attended some, and they are always comforting because of Peter's +assertions that he is now happy and contented." + +At Shelby's urgent request, the medium endeavored to induce Peter's +spirit to return for a further word. + +Her success was only partial, but they did hear a message to Shelby +direct. + +"Persevere, Kit," Peter said, "you're doing right in that matter. Go +ahead, Kit." + +"Your voice sounds queer, Peter," Shelby said, frowning a little. "It +used to be pitched in a higher key." + +"It's the medium," came a reply, and the pitch was higher. "I don't mean +the human medium, but the medium through which I must talk--the ether, I +suppose it is. Good-by, Kit." + +Madame Parlato then came out of her trance, or whatever term she used to +designate her half-conscious state. + +"The session is over," she said, pleasantly. "I fear, Mr. Crane, you did +not get your usual degree of satisfaction from it, but that was because +of a third party here. I don't think Mr. Shelby's antagonistic exactly, +but he's--well, uncertain whether to believe what he hears or not." + +"That's quite true, Madame," said Shelby, with due respect, "but you are +doubtless accustomed to people in my frame of mind." + +"Oh, yes," and the lady smiled a little, "but I trust, Mr. Shelby, you +will come some time by yourself and let me see what I can do to help you +make up your mind." + +"I shall be glad to do that. You have a strange power, at any rate." + +"Strange, yes; but by no means unique. There are minds tuned by nature +to receive spirit messages, as wireless stations are tuned. I cannot +explain my strange power, I marvel at it myself, but I recognize it, and +I use it humbly and gratefully as a God-given treasure." + +"And that's what it is!" declared Benjamin Crane. "I'm glad you came +to-night, Shelby, but, after this, I admit I prefer to come alone, or +with only my wife. The messages from Peter to his father are naturally +more of a loving and domestic nature, and I revel in them." + +"I don't wonder at that, Mr. Crane. And I congratulate you on having +found such a capable and skillful medium." + +Madame Parlato gave Shelby a quick glance, almost as if doubting his +sincerity. But his frank, honest face reassured her, and she said: + +"And, I'm proud to say, I'm not only a medium, but I am possessed of the +power that is called impersonation or transfiguration. This is +comparatively rare, and it enables me to perform what really seem like +miracles. I am taken possession of by the departed subject, and I speak +and act so perfectly with that other personality that sometimes I even +resemble the person who is talking through me." + +"It is indeed wonderful," Shelby said, and Benjamin Crane looked happily +contemplative of the _séances_ in the future when Madame would utilize +this miraculous gift of hers in his behalf. + + * * * * * + +Shelby did go alone to see the medium, and it happened also that, about +a week later, going again, he chanced to meet Mr. Crane there. The +younger man offered to leave, but Crane said, "No, come along. Madame is +going to try to-night to materialize Peter's face, and I want you here +to see it." + +And so the strange _séance_ began. + +Materialization, of course, called for a darkened room, and Shelby's +naturally suspicious mind was alert for possible fraud. + +But he could discover no chance for such. There was no cabinet, no +tambourine, bell or trumpet, and no curtain was drawn or screen set up. + +After they had sat in darkness and silence for a time, a face seemed to +form in mid-air. It was a misty, vague countenance, and was wrapped +about with a soft, floating drapery or veil, which exposed only the +features. + +"Peter!" exclaimed Benjamin Crane in a half-gasping voice. "My boy +himself!" + +"Peter Boots!" cried Shelby, and slowly the face vanished. + +Not another word was spoken, and in a moment the lights were turned on. +This was done by Madame Parlato, at whose elbow the light switch was. + +"Did you see anything?" she asked, in an exhausted, harassed way, yet +with an air of eagerness. + +"Yes," cried out Crane. "I saw Peter, my own son!" + +"I couldn't be sure," she went on, speaking wearily. "It always exhausts +me utterly to induce a materialization, and I doubt if I can achieve +anything more to-night." + +"Nor do you need to," declared Mr. Crane. "That's enough for one +_séance_. Some time you may do that again, and also get speech from +him." + +"May be," she rejoined, with a gentle politeness, "and now I should be +glad to say good-night." + +The two men walked off, Crane in a tumult of delight, Shelby wondering +at it all. + +"You accept marvels very easily, Mr. Crane," the latter said. + +"Because they are marvels," said the older man simply. "If they were +fraud it would be no marvel. But being genuine, it is a marvel, it is a +miracle, and I am glad, rejoiced to accept it!" + + * * * * * + +It was soon after this that Shelby, calling on Carlotta Harper, asked +her what she thought of it all. + +"Rubbish," she replied flatly. + +Shelby looked at her. "But," he said, "I've been told that you can work +the Ouija Board wonderfully!" + +"Work the Ouija Board! What sort of talk is that? Do you mean push it, +to spell what I want it to?" + +"No; I spoke carelessly. I mean use the Board with results that are +surprising." + +"Who can't do that?" + +"Lots of people--myself, for one. Let's try it now, Carly. Will you?" + +"Certainly, if you like. And, if you'll give me your word of honor that +you won't voluntarily or purposely urge the thing in any direction or +toward any letter." + +"Of course I promise that! Where'd be the fun if we cheated? You +promise, too?" + +"Yes, indeed. Like you, I've no interest if either pushes the least +mite." + +They placed themselves with the board between them on their knees. + +It was but a short time before the little heart-shaped block began to +move. + +Carly, who was no novice, said in a sing-song way: "Is there a spirit +present?" + +The board slid quickly to the corner marked "yes." + +"Will you spell out your name?" Carly went on in a very matter-of-fact +voice. + +The pointer went from letter to letter, now hurriedly and now making +wide circling sweeps, but it spelled correctly "Peter Boots." + +Shelby kept most careful watch on Carly's finger-tips. He could see that +there was no apparent muscle movement, no surreptitious pushing and no +motion of any sort save to follow the moving board. Her hands were quite +evidently resting as lightly as his own on the wood, and the board +without doubt moved without the voluntary help of either. + +"Shall we go on?" asked Carly, in a half whisper. + +"Go on? Of course!" returned the other. + +"Peter, have you a message for us?" Carly asked, again using that calm, +uninflected tone. + +"Yes," pointed the board, and then, as they settled down to receive it, +the wooden heart spelled rapidly: "Do not grieve for me-- I am happy." + +Carlotta looked disappointed. "Oh, dear," she said, "I'm so tired of +that message! I thought Peter would do better than that! Let's try +again." + +Again the board moved, and the message came, "Tell mother not to +grieve----" + +"Oh, Peter," Carlotta said, in real impatience, "do say something beside +those stereotyped phrases! Tell us something we don't know, something +about yourself." + +"Tell us how you died," said Shelby, suddenly. + +"Yes, tell us that," Carly repeated. + +The board moved more slowly. + +"I was," it spelled, and "Go on!" the girl urged "I was--in the +snow----" + +"Yes, yes--go on." + +"And I fell down, and I--I--couldn't get up." + +"Why not?" this sharply from Carly. + +"H----" the board stopped; then went on, "Heart failure." + +"I thought so!" exclaimed Shelby; "there aren't any wild animals up +there in----" + +"Hush--it's moving again," said Carly. + +"Heart gave out," the board spelled, moving rapidly now. "Couldn't make +the boys hear. Could only gurgle in my throat. Couldn't shout. So I +died." + +"Do you believe it?" asked Carly, her big, brown eyes solemn and +serious. + +"Yes, I do," said Shelby. "It's highly probable, anyway. Go on, Peter, +tell us something else." + +Whether Shelby "believed" or not, he was deeply interested, and his +breath came faster as he saw the revealing letters spell various +messages. + +Both performers watched the four hands as the board moved under them. +And, the most intense scrutiny could discover no voluntary movement or +assistance to the uncanny instrument. + +Many messages were of slight importance, and then came a sudden, "I say, +Shelby, why don't you marry Carly?" + +The girl gasped, then smiled, but Shelby looked up, dumbfounded. + +"Oh, Carly," he said, "if you only would!" + +"Hush!" she reproved him. "I'll put the board away if you do such +things! You know you pushed it that time!" + +"I didn't, Carly, truly--word of honor, I didn't! I'd no idea what was +coming! Oh, Carly, darling, I love you, and--dear, whether Peter sent +that message or not--won't you--can't you----" + +They had risen, casting aside the board, and Shelby took her hands in +his. "Dearest," he said, "I wanted to tell you, but I was +waiting--for--for Peter's sake. Now--he wants it! So, dear heart--my +little girl--won't you----" + +"No," said Carlotta. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The Tobacco Pouch + + +It was doubtless owing to Benjamin Crane's attitude regarding his son's +death that the home did not present more the aspect of a house of +mourning. Both Crane and his wife were not only resigned to Peter's +fate, but they seemed positively happy in what they believed to be +continued communion with his spirit. + +As Mrs. Crane said, "When Peter was a child the gypsies said he would go +away and be lost, but he would return to us. He has done so, he is doing +so--why should we grieve? He tells us he is happy and contented in his +new sphere of existence, therefore, we are, too." + +"That's all very well," Carlotta Harper would respond, "but I don't look +at it that way at all. I want my Peter Boots back again in the flesh. +I'm not contented at all with a lot of spirit talk communicated through +a paid medium!" + +"Don't say paid medium, as if the paying detracted from her worth," +Benjamin Crane chid the girl. "Of course, we pay Madame Parlato for her +time--why should we not? It's the best money I ever spent! And you're a +medium yourself, Carlotta. You hate to acknowledge it, but you are. Your +work with the Ouija Board is perfectly marvelous, and I have proved to +my own satisfaction that you never use the least fraud." + +"Indeed, I don't," said Carlotta, earnestly, "but what's the use? What +do I care to have Peter talk on that wooden board--if it _is_ Peter--I +want him, himself!" + +Carlotta was passing through strange moods. Living alone with her +mother, their home seemed far more a house of mourning than the Cranes'. + +The girl grieved deeply for Peter. Though not definitely engaged, she +knew their betrothal would have been sealed on his return. And not +having the comfort that the Cranes so gladly accepted, she sorrowed for +her lost love. + +Her success with the Ouija Board was a matter of mystery to her mother +and to all who knew of it. It seemed that she must be a medium, or +possess some occult power, for whenever she placed her finger-tips on +the little board it immediately began to move, and told such remarkable +things that there was occasion for surprise. Nor did Carlotta move the +board of her own volition. It was easily seen that she did not "push" or +urge it in any direction. The most careful scrutiny could not only +discern no effort of hers, but could not fail to be convinced that she +made none. Her friends came often to beg her to give them a session. +Her fame spread until it began to annoy her. + +Gilbert Blair talked to her about it. + +"You know, Carly," he said, "it's not really a message from a spirit you +get, it's----" + +"It's what, Gilbert?" she asked, smiling. "Don't you tell me it's fraud +on my part, because it isn't." + +"No, I don't think it's conscious fraud, but----" + +"But you don't know what it is, do you?" the girl smiled at him, and +Blair, looking deep in her eyes, said: "No, I don't know what it is, and +I don't care. But I care about you. Carly, dear, can't you learn to love +me? I'm not as good a chap as Peter--dear old Peter. But I love you--oh, +girl, how I love you!" + +"The Ouija Board said that Peter wanted me to turn my affections toward +Kit Shelby." + +"It didn't! did it? Then that proves that it was no real message from +Peter! He would rather you'd turn toward me." + +"How do you know?" + +"Oh, we used to talk about you up in the snows of Labrador. And Peter +loved you lots, but he knew I did, too, and we agreed that the best man +should win. I don't mean the best man, but the one who stood best in +your heart. And now--oh, Carly, if you only would----" + +"Not yet, Gilbert--don't let's talk about it yet." + +"But Peter's been dead nearly six months, and you weren't actually +engaged, you know----" + +"How do you know that?" + +"Peter told me, oh, we were confidential up there. And, now, Peter's +gone, and try, won't you, Carly, try to love me. Shelby isn't in my way, +is he?" + +"I don't know--he wants to be." + +"Of course he does! But I won't give up to him! Peter was different. He +was a wonder, that chap!" + +"Indeed, he was. And I care too much for his memory to think about any +one else--yet." + +"But some day, Carly--dear, some day?" + +"Some day we'll see about it. Gilbert, what do you think of that medium +the Cranes go to all the time?" + +"Absolute rubbish." + +"I think that, too. But she's doing queer stunts. She's begun +materializing things." + +"What sort of things?" + +"I don't know exactly. Flowers, I believe, and hands and faces." + +"You know all the legerdemain people do that." + +"That's no argument, Gilbert, and you know it. The charlatans can do all +the things that the real mediums do. The question is not whether the +fakers can do them, but whether the real mediums can." + +"Meaning whether the real mediums are real or not?" + +"Yes, that's what I mean. If ever there was a real one. I think Madame +Parlato is one. But I'm not sure. She does the Cranes a lot of good. +They believe----" + +"Not Julie." + +"Oh, no, Julie hates the whole business. I think she'd be convinced, +though, except for Mr. Thorpe. He's such a skeptic that he influences +Julie." + +"I _thought_ Thorpe was rather interested in that direction." + +"Well, rather! Why, they've been exclusively interested in each other +all winter." + +"Thorpe's a close-mouthed chap. We live together, but we seldom exchange +confidences. I like him pretty well, but----" + +"But what?" + +"I oughtn't to say it, but I don't altogether trust him. We're working +for a prize, you know, the Callender medal, and sometimes I've imagined +that he----" + +"I know, he steals your ideas." + +"Well, I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but he is an unconscious +kleptomaniac, I think. He watches my drawing--I go astray sometimes to +mislead him--and next thing I know he incorporates the same motive in +his own sketches. I wouldn't say this to any one else, but I'm a little +worried about it. Not so much about his taking my stuff as the fear that +some one will think I've taken his." + +"How's your work progressing?" + +"Well--if Thorpe lets me alone." + +"Can't you lock yourself in?" + +"Oh, no; we use the same studio, and if I seemed fearful he would be +angry at once. He's a strange nature, Thorpe. Morbid and secretive, yet +a good friend and a first-rate living companion. You see, we've separate +bedrooms, of course, but we've only the one big room that's studio and +sitting-room combined. We have to use it together, but as our friends +are pretty much the same bunch, we get along all right. We have lockers +and all that, but I hate to lock up my sketches when I go out. It looks +as if I didn't trust him." + +"Well, you don't." + +"No; but I can't tell him so. Nor do I want to hint it--at least not +until I find some definite proof. Get out your Ouija Board, Carly, and +see if it will tell us anything." + +"Oho, you believe in it fast enough when you want to use it?" + +But a trial of the occult only brought Blair the advice to beware of a +friend who might be at heart an enemy. To be careful of his plans and +sketches, for there was some one near who might be guilty of deceit. + +All of which Blair knew before. + + * * * * * + +The sessions which the Cranes held with Madame Parlato increased in +importance and interest. + +She had succeeded in materializing the face and form of their son to +their satisfaction of his identity. They told remarkable tales of seeing +and hearing Peter Boots, until Julie ran out of the room lest she voice +her disapproval too strongly. For Julie Crane, though an absolute +unbeliever in Madame Parlato and all her works, was a devoted daughter, +and would do nothing to disturb the happiness her parents felt in the +_séances_ with the medium. + +But one performance fairly staggered the group of listeners to whom the +Cranes recounted it. + +They returned from the medium's to find the young people sitting round +the hospitable Crane fireside. It was mid March and the weather still +allowed of the cheerful open fire. + +Carlotta was there and Shelby, and Blair and Thorpe, with Julie, of +course, made up the little party. + +"The most marvelous yet!" Benjamin Crane exclaimed, as he drew near the +fire. "Julie, dear, if you don't want to hear, run away, for I must tell +about it." + +But Julie stayed, and her parents told the story. + +It seemed the medium had promised them something very definite by way of +proof, and she had certainly kept her promise. + +The materialization of Peter had taken place, and, as the spirit form +slowly dissolved and faded from their view, there was left behind, lying +on the table, an object that had not been there before. + +It was a tobacco pouch, old and worn, and bearing Peter's initials. + +Julie looked at it with horror-stricken eyes, as her father produced it +from his pocket. + +"Why," she gasped, "it's the one I gave him on his birthday." + +"Not really!" cried Shelby, and both he and Blair leaned eagerly forward +to look. + +"It's the one he always carried with him in Labrador," Blair said, with +an expression of blank wonderment. "How did it get down here?" + +"I offer no explanation, save the true one," Benjamin Crane said, +seriously. "That is, as you see, a real object. It is Peter's property. +You, Blair, recognize it. Do you, Shelby?" + +"I do," Shelby replied, his eyes staring at the thing. + +"Julie recognized it at once," went on Crane. "So there's no doubt of +its identity. Now, I submit that it would be impossible for Madame +Parlato to have come by this in any natural way, therefore it is +supernatural." + +"Supernatural!" McClellan Thorpe exclaimed, with utter scorn in his +voice. "How could that be, sir?" + +"It was materialized by my son, Peter," Crane returned, looking at +Thorpe, calmly. "That may seem incredible to you, but it is not so +incredible as any other explanation you may offer. You cannot think my +wife or I would misstate what happened, can you? You cannot assume that +Madame Parlato obtained this in any underhanded way, for you cannot +conceive of any way in which she _could_ do so. Then, what do you +suggest?" + +"Anything, but that Peter brought it!" Thorpe cried. + +"Ah, yes; anything but the truth. You glibly say 'anything,' but I ask +you to suggest what you mean in that 'anything,' and you fail to reply." + +"There is nothing to suggest," Blair said; "I confess myself utterly at +a loss to suggest anything. To my certain knowledge Peter had that on +his person when he died! Why, that morning he had given me a pipeful out +of it, and had then returned it to his pocket! My explanation is that +Peter is alive!" + +"I wish that were the true one," said Benjamin Crane, fervently, "but if +you'll think a minute, Gilbert, you'll realize that if Peter were alive +he would come to us in the flesh, and not send his tobacco pouch by a +medium." + +"Indeed, he would!" agreed Carlotta, "much as I'd love to believe Peter +alive, this episode contradicts such a belief, not proves it!" + +"That's right," said Shelby, thoughtfully; "I, too, can believe anything +rather than that the medium caused the materialization of this thing, +but----" + +"The medium didn't cause it, exactly," broke in Mrs. Crane's gentle +voice; "you see, we had begged Peter so hard for a material proof that +he promised to try to give it to us. And at last he succeeded. It is +miraculous, of course, but no more miraculous than the strange things +recorded in the Bible. You see, I hold that the day of miracles is not +past." + +Shelby said gravely, "You must be right, for there's surely no other +explanation. I, too, saw this in Peter's hand that last day we were +together. I can't believe he's alive----" + +"Of course not!" interrupted Blair, "if he were, he'd have no use for +mediums! Whatever is the truth, it's not that Peter's alive! I only wish +it might be, but as Carlotta says, this thing contradicts such a theory. +I'm beaten. I see no light at all." + +Benjamin Crane smiled. "You boys admit you see no explanation yet you +refuse to accept the obvious and only one possible. But I'm not going to +try to persuade you, I've no reason to do so. It all means little to +you, but it is as the breath of life to me and to Peter's mother. I +trust that some day Julie will be convinced of these truths, but that is +for her to decide. I shall add this revelation to my book, by way of an +appendix. It's too late to incorporate it in the body of the work." + +Benjamin Crane's book had been a work of absorbing interest to him if +not to his friends. He was entirely obsessed by the whole matter of +Spiritism, and his book, following the style of a celebrated work of a +similar nature in England, was even now in the publisher's hands. + +The book was a memorial to Peter and an account of the experiences of +his parents during the sessions with the medium. Crane possessed a +pleasant, convincing style, and the book was well written and of a real +interest quite apart from the question of the reader's belief in its +matter. + + * * * * * + +When the volume was published, and that was early in April, it became an +immediate success. Not the least of the reasons for this was the +astounding account of the materialization of the tobacco pouch, detailed +exactly as Benjamin Crane had told the story the night of the +occurrence. + +The book went like wildfire. Edition after edition was sold, and +Benjamin Crane found himself famous. The benign old gentleman took his +notoriety calmly, and refused to see the people who thronged to his door +unless they were personal acquaintances. He had to engage secretaries +and other assistants, but his methodical and efficient mind easily coped +with all such matters. Mrs. Crane, too, was serenely indifferent to the +publicity of it all, and pursued her simple ways of life undisturbed. + +But Julie was angry at it all. Her life, she said, was spoiled by being +known as the daughter of a demented monomaniac. + +Her father smiled at her and told her she would change her views some +day, and her mother scolded her now and then, but mostly ignored the +subject when talking with her. + +Julie found sympathy in the views of McClellan Thorpe. + +Neither of these two would believe in the materialization of the tobacco +pouch, yet neither of them could arrive at any satisfactory explanation +of the incident. + +"Of course, it's Peter's pouch," Julie would say; "but it came to that +woman by some natural means. Maybe, somebody found it up there in +Labrador and brought it home----" + +"No," Thorpe would object, "in that case it would be weather-worn and +defaced, and, too, nobody would have any reason to find it, bring it +home, and give it to Madame Parlato! No, Carly, that won't do." + +"Maybe he had two--duplicates," Carly suggested once. But inquiries of +the Crane family proved that was not so. It was the very one Julie had +given her brother, she was sure of that. + +And so that mystery remained unexplained, save by the acceptance of a +miracle. + +A very material result of the success of Crane's book was a large amount +of money that came to him from its royalties. Some of this he decided to +use in fitting out an expedition to recover his son's body. + +This, he decreed, was to be under the direction of Shelby and Blair, who +knew just how it should be conducted. With his usual efficiency, Crane +made all the arrangements and then told the young men about what he had +done. + +They agreed to go, but Shelby advised first that he write to Joshua, +their old guide, as to their reception. + +This was done, but the reply received caused a halt in the preparations. + +For the letter, which Shelby brought over for Crane to read, ran thus: + + "DEAR MISTER SHELBY: + + "I think youd better not try to take back the boddy of Mister + Peter. We berried it verry deep and it better remain here. Anny + way, you cant mannage it till late summer. Say about August or + so." + +"However, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, "if you say so, we can go ahead in +spite of Joshua's letter. He's a good guide, but he always was a bit +dictatorial." + +"No," Benjamin Crane said, "I believe in taking advice from one who is +undoubtedly good authority. We'll postpone the plan until August." + +When Blair was told of it he was rather relieved, for he was busy with +his prize drawings and he didn't want to leave town. + +"Let's see the letter," he said to Shelby. + +"I haven't it, Blair. I left it with Mr. Crane. But I've told you the +gist of it." + +"All right, Kit," and Blair went on with his work. + +It was the next night at the Crane house that Mr. Crane again spoke of +his disappointment at not putting through his hoped-for expedition. + +"You see, Kit," he said to Shelby, "I want to write another book, and I +want it to be about the recovery of Peter's body." + +"Oh, don't do that, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, impulsively; "it would be +anti-climax. You've done a big thing, and scored a success. Another book +would spoil it all." + +"I don't think so," said Crane, not at all annoyed at Shelby's attitude. +"Anyway, I hate to give up my plan. See here, Shelby, are you sure that +man Joshua wrote the letter you got?" + +"Why, yes. What makes you ask that?" + +"Only because it's in a big sprawly hand, and once Blair showed me a +letter from Joshua, which he's kept as a memento, and it was in a small +cramped hand." + +"That's queer. But I expect Joshua might have got somebody to write for +him. Those half-breeds are not very scholarly, you know. However, if +there's any doubt about it, the matter must be looked into. Do you mean +that maybe we can go now, after all? But I can't help thinking that +Joshua wrote that. I know he's not very strong on spelling!" + +"Well, Blair will know. You ask him for that letter he has of Joshua's." + +"All right, Mr. Crane, I will. I'll see him to-night. There's a dinner +on at the Club, and he'll be there. You know he's in a fair way, I +think, to get that Callender prize." + +"I hope so, I'm sure. A rising young architect, Blair is, and I hope he +wins it. I suppose he wouldn't want to go to Labrador until that matter +is settled?" + +"No, probably not. But the award will be made this month." + +"And he's in a fair way to get it?" + +"Looks that way to me. His sketches are fine, though I haven't seen his +finished work. Thorpe's a close second, I imagine." + +"I suppose I'd rather see Thorpe get it, but don't tell Blair that. A +man is naturally interested in his future son-in-law." + +"Oh, it's gone as far as that, has it?" + +"Yes, but it's not announced yet. So say nothing till Julie tells you +to. She's a dear girl, but as hard as adamant where belief in the occult +is concerned." + +"She and Thorpe are at one there." + +"Yes, that helped the affair along, I fancy. But it's all right. Julie +can think what she likes. Peter used to hate the subject, too." + +"I know it. We touched on it now and then, but he usually veered off to +something else at once." + +"What do you think about the pouch, Shelby? I'm not sure I ever asked +you." + +"I don't think, Mr. Crane. I mean I can't explain the thing by natural +means, and I'm unable to believe in the supernatural. What more can I +say?" + +"Nothing. I suppose most people are like that. Thank heaven. I'm made so +that I can believe!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Blair Knows + + +Gilbert Blair was a lovable sort of chap, one of those fine, gentle +natures that will put up with annoyance rather than annoy another. +Although he would have preferred to live alone, yet it was greatly to +his pecuniary advantage to have Thorpe share his place, and, on the +whole, they got on fairly well. But, being of different habits and +temperaments, the details of their home life were not always harmonious. + +Blair was methodical, liked his drawing implements and sketches kept in +order, and the rooms tidy. Thorpe was not particular in these respects, +and his belongings were always scattered about not only on his own +tables or desk, but on Blair's. Moreover, he did not hesitate to use his +chum's materials if his own were not immediately available. + +So it happened that when Shelby stopped in on his way home from the +Cranes' he found a mild war of words in progress. + +"You know, old dear," Thorpe was saying, "you'd be quite welcome to use +my drawing paper, and I call it rough of you to kick because I took a +couple of sheets of yours." + +"Couple of sheets!" exclaimed Blair, "you took six or eight, and I had +only about enough to complete this series of sketches. You know how I +hate to use paper that doesn't match----" + +"At it again?" said Shelby, coming in. "You two never have an out and +out row, but you're always bickering. Thorpe, you ought to mend your +ways--it is a confounded nuisance to have other people using your +things." + +"Oh, Blair's an old granny. It does him good to get stirred up once in a +while. That paper of his----" + +"I know," said Shelby, quietly, "it's a special paper that he bought for +his prize drawings--it's not only expensive, but he wants the sheets +uniform. You knew this, Thorpe, and yet you grab it and use it for your +trial sketches." + +"Now, now, Kit," and Blair smiled good-naturedly, "you needn't take up +my quarrel. I'm jumping on Thorpe myself." + +"You jumping! You'd lie down and let him walk over you!" + +"Not much, he wouldn't!" Thorpe growled; "he's been ballyragging me for +half an hour! Not only about the paper, but he----" + +"Let up, Thorpe," Blair spoke angrily, "at least let's keep our +skeletons in our closet!" + +"Oh, is there a real row on?" Shelby inquired. + +"No, no," Blair declared, but Thorpe jumped up, and, going into his +bedroom, closed the door behind him. + +"Drop it," commanded Blair, quietly, and Shelby changed the subject. + +"Mr. Crane says you had an old letter from Joshua," he began, "let's see +it, will you?" + +"Sure, if I can find it," and Blair began rummaging in his desk. +"Confound it, Kit, if Thorpe hasn't been poking in here among my +letters!" + +"I wouldn't stand for it, Gilbert. What would he do that for?" + +"Hush," with a glance toward Thorpe's closed door, "never mind now. But, +anyway, I can't find that letter. What do you want it for?" + +"Mr. Crane thinks the one I received from Joshua looks so different that +I wanted to compare them." + +"Let me see yours. I can tell at once. Joshua wrote a small cramped +hand----" + +"This one was rather large and of loosely formed letters, but, of +course, some one may have written it for him." + +"Yes, Joshua hated to write----" + +"Well, never mind, don't hunt for it any more. Pretty queer thing about +that tobacco pouch of Peter's, don't you think?" + +Blair looked up quickly. "No, I don't. I know, or at least I think I +know, the explanation of that." + +"You do! Well, out with it!" + +"No, not now," and Blair gave a significant glance toward Thorpe's +door. "But I've had my suspicions roused, and I'm going to verify them, +and then I'm going to expose somebody. I can't stand any more of this +sort of thing. I tell you, Kit, I know!" + +Shelby looked at him in amazement. + +"Well, if you won't talk now, we'll whoop it up some other time. See you +to-night at the dinner?" + +"Yes; get along now, and we'll meet there later." + +Blair looked anxious and preoccupied. As he went toward the door with +Shelby he said suddenly, "I say, Kit, will you drop Carlotta Harper?" + +"Drop her!" + +"Yes; stop calling on her or paying her any attention." + +"I will not! Just why----" + +"All right." Blair's voice was cold and sharp. "Good night." + +"Good night, Gil. You're queer to-night. See you later." + + * * * * * + +While dressing for the dinner Kit Shelby thought long and earnestly of +Blair's strange words and his peculiar mental attitude. He thought Blair +was like a man who had reached the end of his rope. A sort of +exasperation had showed in his face and manner, and Shelby wondered what +it meant. + +He went over every word of the conversation they had had, including +Blair's demand that Shelby desist from future acquaintance with Carly +Harper! That was some demand, Shelby decided. And one to which he had +no intention of acceding. + +His ruminations resulted in his calling again at Blair's on the way to +the dinner. + +He found Blair nearly ready, and Thorpe, too, waiting to start. + +Shelby scrutinized the faces of both men, and concluded they were still +at odds. He went into Blair's bedroom, where that correct young man was +carefully tying his immaculate evening tie. + +"There, you made me spoil it," Blair exclaimed, as Shelby's sudden +entrance caused a nervous gesture and a resultant wrinkle of the strip +of lawn. + +"Fiddle-de-dee! Don't be a fuss! Only men, you know. That's good +enough." + +But Blair selected another tie, and, while he manipulated it, Shelby +fussed around the room. He could say no word in confidence to Blair, for +Thorpe was impatiently tailing them to hurry, and shortly the three +started off, gay of manner on the surface, whatever they might be +thinking about. + +They carefully avoided all mention of the Cranes, and also avoided the +coming prize competition as a subject of discussion. + +This, itself, proved the rift in the lute was still recognized in the +souls of Blair and Thorpe at least. The two had enough artistic +temperament to feel the inevitable jealousy of each other's designs, and +if Blair suspected Thorpe of appropriating his ideas, whether +consciously or unintentionally, it would have the effect of making him +unusually quiet, even morose, rather than to result in so much as a +spoken hint of his thoughts. + +Moreover, habit is strong, and the three walked off to keep their +engagement with much the same gay laughter and chatter as usual. + +Shelby, especially, was purposely talkative and jocular, for he wanted +to get the other two in complete good humor before the feast began. + +In a general way he succeeded, and though Blair was a bit quiet, Thorpe +regained his ordinary temper, and the men met and mingled with their +fellows, their attitude properly in the key of the occasion. + +It was a merry little dinner, and at last the talk drifted to Mr. +Crane's book about Peter. Everybody present had known and loved Peter +Boots, and various were the opinions regarding Benjamin Crane's +extraordinary work. + +"All rubbish," declared one man. "Strange, how sensible men can fall for +that stuff! Makes me sick!" + +"Oh, come now," another urged, "there must be something in it. Benjamin +Crane never made up all that." + +"No, he didn't make it up, but he was fooled, gulled, taken in." + +"By the medium?" asked some one. + +"Partly," answered somebody else. "But I think there's been underhand +work going on." + +"Such as what?" + +"Oh, some of Peter's people or friends helping the medium along. I've +read that book with the greatest care, studied it, and I get a lot +between the lines. And I think----" + +"Don't say it," put in Blair, quietly. "Unless you know something, +Knight, better keep still." + +"But why, Blair? We're all friends of Peter here, why not discuss the +thing freely and frankly?" + +"Better let it alone," insisted Blair, and then the talk drifted to the +coming competition, which was even more dangerous. + +"Of course nobody has a look-in but Blair and Thorpe," declared the +talkative Knight. "They're sure to get the prize, separately or +together." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Heard you were working on a big scheme on which you had joined forces." + +"Nothing of the sort," declared Blair, shortly, and Thorpe added, "And +if we were, we wouldn't say so." + +Then the more peaceable minded of the group introduced other subjects, +and art and spiritism were left out of it. + + * * * * * + +On the way home, as several were walking together, Shelby turned off at +his home street and refused all invitations to go on with the others. + +"Can't do it," he said. "I've got a piece of work to finish, and I've +got to go home. See you all to-morrow night. By-by." + +"I'm going along with you," Knight said to Blair. "I want to see your +sketches, you said I might." + +"All right," Gilbert returned, and, Thorpe with them, they went on to +the studio. + +Knight acted as a peacemaker, though not knowing it. He was a jolly, +good-natured man, and he guyed the work of both his friends until they +joined forces to contradict him. + +Late they sat, smoking and talking over general matters. Also they +discussed the Crane book, and agreed that, whether true or not, it was a +great document and wonderfully popular. + +"People are crazy over it, who always hooted at that sort of thing," +Knight asserted. "It's partly the charm of Mr. Crane's manner, for the +book is delightfully written, and somehow it does carry conviction." + +"Thought you didn't believe in it!" + +"Me? Oh, I don't," and Knight winked; "I mean it carries conviction to +those who like that sort of thing. No, I don't believe a word of it is +truth." + +"Yet you have confidence in Mr. Crane's sincerity?" + +"Oh, yes; he's merely fooled by a medium and----" + +"Go on." + +"And somebody who's telling her things." + +"Who'd do that?" + +"I don't know, but it's too palpable. Look at that tobacco pouch affair. +You know somebody must have given her that. Who did?" + +"Hush up," said Blair, determinedly. "If you want to discuss that, do it +somewhere else." + +"You're all on edge to-night, Blairsy. What's the matter?" + +"Nothing, and I'm not." + +"Oh, yes, you are," Knight went on. "But, of course, it's nervousness +about the competition. What'll either of you boys do if the other gets +the prize?" + +"Congratulate him," said Thorpe, but there was not much ring of +earnestness in his tone. + +Blair looked at him moodily, and Knight rose to go. + +"You chaps are out of sorts, and I'll not see you again till the prize +business is settled. Then I hope you'll be your own sweet sunny selves +once more. Good night." + +He went off, and the other two began a desultory conversation. It +lagged, however, and soon they separated for the night. + + * * * * * + +Nobody in the Leonardo Studio apartments was an early riser. For that +reason it was nearly eleven o'clock when Thorpe, his face very white, +telephoned downstairs and asked the doorman to come up at once. + +When Hastings appeared he found Thorpe sitting on the edge of a chair +in the studio in a state of agitation. + +"Blair----" Thorpe said, speaking with difficulty. "Mr. Blair,--you +know,--he's--he's very ill----" + +"Ill, sir? Where is he?" + +"In bed--in his room--go in, Hastings." + +The man went in, and it needed only a glance to tell him that Blair's +illness, whatever it had been, was fatal. + +"He's dead," Hastings said, in an awe-stricken voice. "He's surely +dead." + +"Well, do something," Thorpe said; "what's the thing to do? Get a +doctor?" + +"A doctor couldn't help him, but yes, we ought to send for one. Who, +sir?" + +"I don't know. I've never had a doctor. This unnerves me, Hastings. I +wish you'd do what's necessary." + +"Ain't you a friend of his, sir? Can't you show a little heart?" + +Hastings had never liked Thorpe, but had always been an admirer of +Gilbert Blair. There was no special reason for this, unless that Blair +was of a kindlier nature, and rarely found fault with Hastings, while +Thorpe was sometimes irascible and even unreasonable. + +Moreover, if Thorpe was nervously upset, Hastings was, too, and neither +man knew exactly what to do. + +"Well, you must get a doctor," Thorpe went on, a little peevishly. +"You're responsible in cases of emergency----" + +"Me responsible, sir? What do you mean, Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Nothing to make you look like that. But you're in a position of +responsibility, and it's up to you to do something. Now, do it." + +"Yes, sir." The tone of authority brought Hastings to his senses. He was +responsible in a case like this, and he went to the telephone. He called +the superintendent, who did not live in the building, and asked him to +come at once, and to bring a doctor. Then, his work done, he left the +room, and Thorpe was alone with his dead comrade. + +But McClellan Thorpe made no move. He sat still on the edge of the +chair, his face turned away from Blair's bedroom and toward the outer +door. + +At last Somers, the superintendent, arrived, and with him was Doctor +Frost. + +They went straight to Blair's bedroom, scarcely speaking to Thorpe. + +"Hastings tells me he's dead," Somers merely said, as he passed Thorpe's +chair. + +With practiced experience, the doctor examined the body. + +"The man has been dead about eight or nine hours," he said, "it's +impossible to fix the time of his death exactly,--but I place it at +about three o'clock this morning. Though it may have taken place an hour +sooner or later." + +"What caused it?" Somers, asked, "a stroke?" + +"Can't tell without an autopsy. There is positively no indication of any +reason for it." + +"A natural death, of course?" Thorpe asked, jerkily. + +The doctor gave him a quick glance. "Looks so," he returned. "Maybe a +stroke,--though he's young for that. Maybe acute indigestion, is he +troubled that way?" + +"With indigestion? Yes," Thorpe said; "he has it most of the time. But +not acute,--merely a little discomfort when he overeats,--which he often +does." + +"Does he take anything for it?" + +"I don't know,--yes, I've seen him take remedies now and then. I've not +paid it much attention." + +"Queer case," the doctor mused. "If it had been that, he would have +cried out, I think. Did you hear no disturbance?" + +"Not a bit," said Thorpe. "Are you sure it's not a stroke?" + +"He's too young for a stroke. Where are his people?" + +"'Way out West. And he hasn't many. An invalid mother, and a young +sister,-- I think that's all." + +"Well,--who should be notified? Those relatives? Where are they? Will +you take charge?" + +"Oh, I can't!" Thorpe spoke shrinkingly. "I'm-- I'm no relation,--you +know,--merely a fellow lodger in his apartment. I'd--rather get out, +any way." + +"You and he chums?" + +"Yes; both architects. Of course, I know all about Mr. Blair's work and +that,--but I know nothing of his private affairs. Can't you get somebody +to--to settle up his estate?" + +"If he has an estate to settle. But somebody ought to look after things. +Who are his friends?" + +"Mr. Crane is one,--Benjamin Crane. And Christopher Shelby,--he's an +intimate chum." + +"Crane, the man who wrote the book about his son's spirit?" + +"Yes, that one. Shall I telephone him?" + +"Yes; you'd better do so. And I think it necessary to have an autopsy. +This death is mysterious, to say the least. It's unusual, too, in some +of its aspects." + +"Do what you like," said Thorpe, "but--but I'd rather not be present. I +think I'll go down to the Cranes' and tell them,--while you--you go on +with your work." + +"All right," said Doctor Frost, "I'd just as lief have you out of the +way. Leave me the telephone call that will reach you." + + * * * * * + +As Thorpe went off, he realized that he'd had no breakfast. He felt +little like eating, but dropped into a restaurant for a cup of coffee. + +He found himself totally unable to drink it, and leaving it untasted he +went on to the Crane house. + +He told the story to Benjamin Crane, who was shocked indeed. + +"But I'm not greatly surprised," Mr. Crane said; "I've been thinking for +some time that Blair didn't look well. A sort of pallor, you know, and +he was thin. I don't think the Labrador trip agreed with him at all. And +Peter's death affected him deeply. No; Blair hasn't been well for +months." + +"What are you doing here at this time in the morning, McClellan?" asked +a laughing voice, as Julie Crane came into the room. + +But her laughter was hushed as she was told the news. + +"Oh, Mac, what an awful ordeal for you," she exclaimed, her sorrow at +Blair's death apparently lost sight of in sympathy for Thorpe. + +"It was, Julie," he returned, earnestly; "I'm--I'm positively foolish +about such things,--death, I mean. I,--I almost went all to pieces." + +"Of course you did! Had you had your breakfast?" + +"No; I tried to take some coffee, but I couldn't." + +"You will now," said the girl, decidedly. "You come with me, to the +dining room, and I'll make you some coffee myself, on the electric +percolator, and some toast, too, and if you don't enjoy them, I'll be +mad at you." + +He followed her in a sort of daze, turning back to say: + +"Are you going up to the studio, Mr. Crane?" + +"Yes, at once. You go along with Julie, and let her look after you. And, +Julie, you must tell your mother. It will be a shock,--she loves all +Peter's friends." + +The two went to the dining-room, where Julie, housewifely girl that she +was, brewed golden coffee and made toast with no aid from the servants. + +Mrs. Crane joined them, and Julie told her mother the sad news. + +"Poor Gilbert," she said, wiping her tears away. "Peter loved him. Have +you told Kit Shelby?" + +"Not yet," Thorpe said; "I'm so broken up myself----" + +"Of course you are," Julie said; "I suppose father will send him word. +Don't think about that, Mac, father will attend to everything." + +"I know it," said Thorpe, "and I'm so relieved. Don't think me a +weakling, but death always unnerves me,--I can't help it,--and when I +found Gilbert,--like that----" + +"There, there," Julie soothed him, "you did all you could. Now let me +make you one little piece more of brown toast----" + +But Thorpe declined. To please the girl he had managed to eat one tiny +crisp bit, but another he could not accept. Nor could he take more than +a small part of the cup of coffee she gave him. + +"I'm a fool," he said, "but--I'm all in!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Investigation + + +Nor did Thorpe's nerves grow calmer. Both Mrs. Crane and Julie tried to +soothe him, but he was jumpy and his mouth twitched spasmodically. + +The women endeavored to change the subject and talked of other things, +whereupon Thorpe sat, brooding,--his dark, handsome face strained and +despairful. + +"Now, McClellan," Julie said, at last, decidedly, "it's awful enough, +goodness knows, but I'll go crazy if you sit there like that any longer! +Let's think what's to be done. In the first place, there's Carly to be +considered. She's worse hit than you are. Oh, I know you and Gilbert +were great friends and all that,--but I think he and Carly were more +than friends." + +"Julie," said her mother, "don't assume more than you know. Carly hasn't +forgotten Peter,--of that I'm sure." + +"No; and I don't say there was anything definite between her and Gil +Blair, but I think it would have come in time. Gilbert was crazy over +her, even before they all went on that trip, and when Peter didn't come +back, I think Gilbert felt he had a right to win Carly if he could." + +"Oh, he had right enough," Mrs. Crane conceded, "but--I suppose I'm a +bit jealous of my son's memory. However, I'm sorry for poor little +Carly, if she did care for Gilbert in that way." + +And then Carlotta came in. Shelby was with her; he had heard the news +and had gone straight to Carlotta's home, and they had come over to the +Cranes' together. + +Carlotta's eyes were red with weeping, but she was even more indignant +than sad. + +"Who could have killed Gilbert?" she cried, "and why should any one do +so?" + +"Killed him!" cried Julie, "what _do_ you mean?" + +"Why, yes,--haven't you heard? Gilbert was poisoned." + +"Oh, Carlotta! Who said so?" + +"Kit told me;--tell them about it,--I can't." + +So Shelby told them. + +"Mr. Crane telephoned me," he said, "only about half an hour ago. He +said the doctor found that Gilbert was poisoned, either by himself----" + +"Oh, he never did it himself!" Carlotta cried out. "Why should he? He +was just on the eve of the great competition,--and he was so excited +about it, and so hopeful,--it's absurd to say he killed himself!" + +"Of course it is," agreed Julie. "But are they sure it was poison? Mac +thought it was acute indigestion,--or a stroke, or something like that." + +"No," Shelby said. "Mr. Crane said there was no doubt about it, I mean +about the poisoning. But don't be too sure that Gilbert didn't take it +himself. It might have been by mistake, you know. And anyway it's a +mistake to theorize much until we know more of the details. I'm going up +to Blair's place. Coming along, Thorpe?" + +"No,--no,--I don't believe I will,--I'll stay here a while, if Mrs. +Crane will let me." + +"Of course," said Mrs. Crane, in her kind, motherly way, "Mac is all +broken up. And no wonder! The shock of finding Gilbert dead----" + +"Oh, Mr. Thorpe, did you make the discovery?" exclaimed Carlotta. "How +awful! I don't wonder you're upset. Yes, Kit, you go up to Gilbert's. +There may be something you can do." + +Shelby went away, and when he reached the studio the first one to greet +him was Mr. Crane. + +"Hello, Shelby, I'm glad you came. This is a bad business." + +"Tell me all about it,--I know only the main fact,--of Gilbert's death." + +"Yes, that's the main fact, and the next one in importance is that the +boy was poisoned. It's not known whether he took the poison himself or +whether----" + +"But how? I mean, what are the circumstances?" + +"Come on in,--the police are here and the doctor. Listen to them." + +The two went into the familiar studio, the big room where Blair and his +friends had so often forgathered with jests and laughter. + +There were two doctors there and two or three men from the Police +Department. + +The Medical Examiner was talking. + +"It's one of those cases," he said, "where there seem to be no clews at +all. The autopsy revealed the mere fact that Mr. Blair was poisoned by +prussic acid, taken into the stomach. But there is no evidence in the +way of a glass or container of any sort, there is no odor of prussic +acid about his lips, no real reason to suspect foul play, and yet no +apparent reason to think he killed himself. It may have been an +accident, yet I can see no real evidence of that. It's mysterious from +the very lack of anything suspicious." + +"Was he--was he in bed?" asked Shelby, who had heard no detail of +Thorpe's finding the body. + +"Yes," said Doctor Middleton, the Examiner. "It seems his room-mate +found him, in bed, in his night-wear, and immediately called the doorman +of the house." + +"And then Thorpe lit out," remarked Detective Weston. "I want to see +him." + +"Oh, Thorpe's all right," said Mr. Crane. "He's down at my house. I'll +vouch for him. You needn't look that way for the criminal,--if there is +a criminal." + +"I should say not!" declared Shelby. "McClellan Thorpe and Mr. Blair +were the greatest friends." + +"But I can't think Gilbert was killed," Mr. Crane went on. "Seems to me +if that were the case, there'd be some evidence of an intruder. And as +Gilbert has no friends,--I mean no relatives or family in the city, I'll +take up the matter myself. I'd like a thorough investigation, not so +much to prove there was a criminal as to prove there wasn't one. I don't +think there was, but I'd like a search made for any light that can be +thrown on the matter." + +"Oh, we'll investigate all right," said Weston; "I think somebody bumped +the man off. I don't see any possibility for an accident, but it's more +like suicide to me." + +"Let's look around a bit," said Shelby. "I'm with you, Mr. Crane, in +assuming responsibility. Why, who is there to take charge of Gilbert's +things,--his estate?" + +"It's hardly a big enough matter to call an estate," Crane said; "of +course, I know more or less of Blair's affairs, and he wasn't by any +means affluent. Indeed, his hopes of the prize in the coming competition +represented his chief asset." + +"Thought he'd get a prize, did he?" said Weston, "for what?" + +"For his architectural design," Crane answered. "He was working hard, +and was hopeful. That's why I feel sure he never killed himself." + +"Here are his designs," said Shelby, as he opened a big portfolio. "Why +don't you take these, Mr. Crane, and take them home with you. They're +really valuable." + +"Of course they are,--I'll do that," agreed the older man. "Blair has a +sister, somewhere out West. If anything comes of the drawings, it will +be hers." + +"Can you get in touch with his family?" asked Middleton. + +"Don't know anything about them," Crane returned. "I suppose there must +be letters or an address book or some such matters in Blair's desk. +Thorpe may know more about it than I do." + +"Thorpe may know a lot of things," suggested Weston. "Better get him up +here, I say." + +"All right," Benjamin Crane said, after a moment's pause. "He's down at +my house,--I'll telephone him to come up here now." + +But when connection was made it transpired that Thorpe had left the +Crane house and nobody knew where he was. + +"Looks bad," said Weston, shortly. "Why'd he run away?" + +"See here, Mr. Weston," Crane said, "if you've any suspicion against +McClellan Thorpe just put it out of your mind. He had no hand in Mr. +Blair's death----" + +"I didn't say he had." + +"I know you didn't, but you implied it, and I want to quash any such +suggestion at once." + +"It's absurd," Shelby agreed. "You don't know the friendship that +existed between the two men. Why, they were fellow architects and have +lived here together for over two years. They were like brothers." + +"That's all right, but why did Thorpe run away?" + +"He hasn't run away!" Crane said, "what a ridiculous charge! Merely +because he left my house, you say he's run away! He's probably on his +way up here. This is his home." + +"Well, until he gets here, I'll look around his room a bit," Weston +remarked, and as he went into Thorpe's bedroom, Crane followed. + +There was nothing sinister there. Merely the usual appointments, and +rather plain ones, for the young architects were not of luxurious tastes +or means. + +With a practiced eye and deft hand, Weston went through dresser drawers, +and cupboard shelves. Looked into the books on the night table, and in a +short time had satisfied himself that there was no evidence apparent, so +far. + +Into the bathroom next, they all went. This the two men shared, and the +detective scrutinized the glasses and brushes that were on shelves, +either side of the wash stand. They were of tidy appearance and +presented merely the array that might be expected. + +Weston sniffed hard at the glasses, but could detect no untoward odors, +nor any sign of poison or drugs of any sort. + +The small white cupboard on the wall showed only a few bottles +containing toilet appurtenances and simple medicines. + +"Witch Hazel, Peroxide, Talcum powder, Cholera mixture and soda mints," +he said, from the various labels,--"hello, here's laudanum! How about +that?" + +"No," Doctor Middleton declared, "it wasn't laudanum poisoning. It was +prussic acid. The effects are quite different, and there's no mistaking +them. I don't know what the young men were doing with laudanum, but it +wasn't that that killed Mr. Blair." + +"Curious, to have poison around at all," said Shelby, musingly. + +"Gives a hint of intended suicide," suggested Weston. "Though not +necessarily----" + +"I should say not!" broke in Benjamin Crane. "Gilbert Blair wasn't +coward enough to take his own life for any reason. Why, he was my son's +friend. It was an accident,--and the fact of finding that other poison +about, points toward accident, to my mind." + +"Just how do you make that out, Mr. Crane?" asked Weston, with a slight +smile. + +"Why"--began Crane, a little lamely--"I'm not sure that I can explain, +but it appeared to me that if Blair had one poison in his possession, he +might have had the other, and----" + +"How do you know this laudanum was Mr. Blair's possession?" asked +Weston. "Might it not have been Mr. Thorpe's?" + +"How you hark back to Thorpe!" exclaimed Crane, with real petulance. "I +wish you'd stop it, Weston. If you've a definite suspicion that he +killed Gilbert Blair, say so, but don't throw out these silly hints." + +"Nothing especially silly about them, Mr. Crane," the detective was +quite unruffled, "only I hold that the poison we've just found is quite +as likely to be Mr. Thorpe's as Mr. Blair's. That's all." + +"Of course it is," Shelby said, placatingly, "but that's neither here +nor there. If you have reason to think Mr. Blair was murdered, you've +reason to look for the criminal. But I don't think you've proved it was +not an accident, and until you do, it's well to be careful how you throw +suspicion about." + +"It's not so easy to prove an accident,--or a murder, either,--when +there's practically no clew to be found. Therefore, it's our duty to +question any one who can give any material evidence, especially one who +was presumably the last one to see Mr. Blair alive." + +"Except the murderer,--if there was one," said Shelby. + +"Yes, and if he was not the murderer himself," grunted Weston. + +"Send for that doorman," said Middleton, a bit curtly. "Let's get +somewhere." + +Hastings, being summoned, appeared, and told all he knew, which was +little, and all he surmised, which was more. + +"Yes," he said, "Mr. Thorpe called me, this morning, and when I came, he +was all of a shiver. He sat on the edge of that chair there, and his +teeth chattered and his voice shook----" + +"Small wonder!" said Crane. "Mac is a very nervous man, and a shock such +as he must have had----" + +"Go on, Hastings," ordered Doctor Middleton. + +"Well, Mr. Thorpe said Mr. Blair was ill, and told me to go in and see +him. Now, of course, Mr. Thorpe knew Mr. Blair was dead, but he said he +was ill. Why did he do that?" + +"Tell your story," said Crane, scowling at him. "Don't ask fool +questions as you go along!" + +"Yes, sir. Well, I went in and I saw Mr. Blair was dead. And I told Mr. +Thorpe so, and he didn't seem surprised, but he was all of a blue funk, +and he said, 'Well,--get a doctor--or whatever is the thing to do.' Just +like that. He didn't show any grief or any sorrow,--only just seemed +scared to death." + +"And he didn't show any surprise?" This from Middleton. + +"Of course he didn't!" Crane cried; "of course he knew Blair was dead +when he called Hastings. I know Thorpe, and he's a most nervous +temperament. And when he called for help, as of course he had to do, it +was the most natural thing in the world for him to say that Mr. Blair +was ill. Nor would he be apt to show his grief then and there. He was +stunned, and moreover, he's not the man to talk over his sorrow with the +janitor! I say Thorpe acted as any of us would do in the same +circumstances. Now, I for one, object to having him misjudged." + +"You're a good champion, Mr. Crane," said Doctor Middleton, "and I don't +blame you for standing up for your friend. But he'll have to speak for +himself,--Mr. Thorpe will,--and the sooner we get hold of him the +better." + +"I agree to all that," Crane replied, "all I ask is that he shall not be +condemned unheard." + +"That's reasonable enough," granted Middleton, "but we must get hold of +him soon." + +"He'll come back here," Mr. Crane assured them. "He hasn't run away, as +you seem to think, but he has a natural aversion to this place, and I +shouldn't be surprised if he stayed away for a few days." + +"A few days! Where would he stay?" asked the Examiner. + +"Probably at his Club." + +"Which Club? I'll call it up and see if he's there now," Weston said, +briskly. + +"The Artists' Club. Call it, and they'll tell you something about him, +I'm sure." + +Weston called the Club and received word that Thorpe was there. + +"Ask him to speak to me," he ordered, and in a moment he was talking to +Thorpe himself. + +"Yes, I'll come home right away," Thorpe agreed, when urgently invited +to do so. + +"I told you so," said Crane, triumphantly; "that man had no thought of +running away, but he dreads this place just now. He's of a sensitive, +nervous nature, and I hope, Mr. Weston, you'll be decent to him. No +third degree manners,--that won't help with McClellan Thorpe." + +They all remained awaiting Thorpe's return. Shelby busied himself +looking over some of Blair's books and papers, while Benjamin Crane +talked to Dr. Middleton. + +He rather liked the Medical Examiner, but he did not at all admire +detective Weston or his ways. So he endeavored to give Doctor Middleton +a mental picture of Thorpe, and prepare him for an interview that should +temper justice with mercy, or at least, consideration. + +Weston spent the time prowling round Blair's bedroom in search of clews. +But his keen glances could find no single thing that gave any hint of +means or reason for suicide, nor any that suggested an accident. + +"Wherefore," he concluded to himself, "it's a murder. No clew, means a +careful removal of any clew,--and a mighty clever criminal at that. +Maybe it wasn't friend Thorpe, but a few words with him will convince me +one way or the other." + +Thorpe came, and though his expression was inscrutable and his face set +and stern, it seemed to those who knew him best that he was trying to +hold himself together and not give way to his nervousness. + +"Take a seat, Mr. Thorpe," Doctor Middleton said, courteously, after +Crane had introduced them; "we expect from you a straightforward account +of all you can tell us of your experiences this morning." + +"Why should my account be other than straightforward?" Thorpe said, +breathing hard, and making an evident effort at self-control. "I have +nothing to conceal, and if I seem distraught, it is, I dare say, not +astonishing." + +"Now, Mac," Mr. Crane said, kindly, "don't bristle. We're all your +friends, and we only want you----" + +"Good heavens, Mr. Crane, why do you take that conciliatory attitude? +I've no confession to make,-- I-- I didn't kill Blair----" + +"Why do you say that?" cried Weston. "Who even hinted that you killed +Mr. Blair? Why do you think anybody killed him?" + +"Why do you?" countered Thorpe, turning an angry glance at the +detective. + +"I haven't said I did." + +"Not in so many words,--but you imply it. I tell you I didn't kill him! +I _didn't_!" + +Thorpe was not excited of manner, he was very calm, but his blazing eyes +and quivering mouth, and his intensity, rather than force of speech gave +him the effect of intense excitement. + +"Don't deny or assert, Mr. Thorpe," said Middleton, coldly. "Just tell +your story. At what time did you rise?" + +"About ten o'clock," was the short reply. + +"And then?" + +"Then I bathed, shaved and dressed just as usual. I generally dress +before Mr. Blair, and I thought nothing of his silence." + +"His bedroom door was closed?" + +"Yes; then, after I was dressed and about to go out to my breakfast, I +called to him through the door." + +"What did you say?" + +"I can't repeat the exact words, but it was only to the effect of +'good-by, old chap,' or maybe, 'I'm off, Blair,' or something of the +sort." + +"And you went on?" + +"I didn't hear him reply,--he usually says, 'All right, Mac,' so I +repeated my call. Then, when he didn't respond that time, I knocked at +his door." + +"Fearing something was wrong?" + +"N-no,--not wrong,-- I think I just wanted him to say something----" + +"Why were you so anxious he should say something?" This last from +Weston, with a direct glance. + +"Why, good Lord, man," Thorpe's eyes blazed, "because I am accustomed to +a reply, and when it didn't come, I naturally wondered why." + +"Didn't you think he might merely be asleep?" + +"I didn't think anything about that. I acted on impulse. I didn't hear +him, and I wanted to see him." + +"And you did? You opened the door?" + +"Yes, after I knocked twice,--then I-- I opened his door." + +"It was not locked?" + +"No; we never lock our bedroom doors." + +"Go on,--and then?" + +"Then"--Thorpe spoke slowly, as if choosing his words--"then, I saw him +lying in the bed,--still,--as if asleep. I went closer, and I saw by the +look on his face that he was dead." + +"You knew that at once?" asked Middleton. "You didn't think he was only +asleep----" + +"No,--the pallor was unmistakable----" + +"Have you often looked upon death?" + +"Never before,--except at a funeral." + +"And yet you knew at once it was death you saw,--not sleep. That is +remarkable, Mr. Thorpe." + +Thorpe met Middleton's eyes, and then his own fell. + +"I can't help that, Doctor," he said; "I was sure,--that is,--almost +sure Mr. Blair was dead." + +"Yet you called Hastings and told him Mr. Blair was ill." + +"Yes,--I couldn't seem to say the--the other----" + +"Why did you kill him, Mr. Thorpe?" + +"I-- I kill him! Oh, I didn't!-- I told you I didn't!" + +"Yes; but we can't believe you." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Evidence + + +The few days following Gilbert Blair's death were like a nightmare to +his friends. A search of his papers had revealed a probable address of +his mother, but a telegram sent there had as yet brought no reply and +though a letter was despatched, no answer could be expected to that for +a week or more. + +Meantime, by general consent, Benjamin Crane took charge of Blair's +affairs. The funeral took place in an undertaker's establishment and the +body was placed in a receiving vault, until Blair's people could be +heard from. His immediate possessions remained in the studio rooms, for +the lease had still six months to run, and the police objected to any +removal of the dead man's effects. It was practically impossible to seal +them up as Thorpe occupied the same rooms, but a strict surveillance was +kept, and Weston doggedly asserted he would yet track down the murderer. + +For no one could doubt Blair had been murdered. On the eve of the prize +competition, in which he was so deeply interested,--on the eve, as he +hoped, of being engaged to Carlotta Harper, whom he loved, full of life +and energy, why should he kill himself? It was impossible to accept the +theory of suicide, and the detectives were hard at work on the case. + +McClellan Thorpe was suspected, but as there was no evidence against +him, save his indubitable and exclusive opportunity, he had not as yet +been arrested. + +"His opportunity was not exclusive," Mr. Crane contended. "Those studio +apartments are not burglar proof! Anybody might have got in during the +night and administered the poison." + +"No," Weston objected. "It would be practically impossible for any one +to go into those rooms, force or persuade Blair to swallow poison and +get away without being heard by Mr. Thorpe or without leaving any trace +of his presence." + +"Well, look here, Weston," Mr. Crane spoke very seriously, "you know me +well enough to know I've no notion of evading justice for anybody. But +knowing McClellan Thorpe as I do, and knowing his peculiar temperament, +I wish you'd let him alone,--at least, until you have a bit of +indisputable evidence." + +"I've got it, Mr. Crane." + +"What?" + +The two were sitting in Benjamin Crane's library, where they often met +to talk over the case. Julie was present, for she wanted to know every +detail of any discovery that might be made. + +"I don't believe it!" she flared out at the detective's statement. + +"Yes, Miss Crane," Weston said, "I found a pretty suspicious +circumstance to-day. Nothing less than a very small bottle, without cork +or label, but smelling unmistakably of prussic acid." + +"Where was it?" demanded Crane. + +"Hidden in an old and unused paint-box of McClellan Thorpe's." + +"Where was the paint-box?" + +"'Way back, on a cupboard shelf. Pushed back, behind a pile of old +books." + +"Planted evidence," suggested Crane. "The real criminal put it there to +incriminate Mr. Thorpe." + +"Not a chance!" said Weston, smiling. "I've had that place watched too +closely for that, sir! Nobody could get in to plant evidence, or to do +anything else without being seen by my men. No, sir, that bottle in Mr. +Thorpe's paint-box was put there by his own hand, and it will prove his +undoing." + +"But it's absurd!" flashed Julie. "Mr. Thorpe never killed his +friend,--but if he had done so, he wouldn't be fool enough to leave such +evidence around!" + +"He couldn't help himself, Miss Crane. When he used the bottle that +night, he had to secrete it somewhere, and since then he has been too +closely watched to dare to take it from its hiding-place and dispose of +it." + +"But I don't see how he could have done it," Crane objected. "How could +he persuade Blair to take a dose of poison?" + +"Oh, in lots of ways. Say, they had a highball or that,--all he had to +do was to drop the tiniest speck from the little vial into the drink. He +could easily do that unobserved. Anyway, he did do it. Then, of course, +afterward, he had ample chance to clean the glasses and remove every +trace of crime, except that he had to conceal the bottle. This he did in +the most obvious way. Exactly the way any one would try to secrete such +a thing. The bottle had been emptied and washed, but that poison has +such an enduring odor that it is practically impossible to eliminate it +entirely. But there's the fact, Mr. Crane, now, unless another suspect +can be found, it's all up with Mr. Thorpe." + +"Then we'll find another suspect!" exclaimed Julie. + +"Go ahead, Miss. I'll investigate your new man, as soon as you name him. +That's the important part of this affair, there's no chance of another +suspect. No one has been so much as thought of----" + +"That doorman?" said Julie. + +"Nixy! He had no motive, no opportunity,--and there's not the slightest +reason to suspect him." + +"Some outsider, then," went on Julie, desperately, "some fellow artist, +who feared Gilbert would win that prize----" + +"Miss Crane, you must know that's the motive attributed to Mr. Thorpe. +You must know that he and Mr. Blair were rivals in that competition +and----" + +Julie's eyes flashed fire. "And you mean to say that he killed his +friend,--his chum,--in order to be sure of winning the prize!" + +"That's the motive we're assuming. But there was doubtless a scrap,--a +row about the pictures or drawings,--in fact,-- I hate to tell you these +things, but we have learned that there was bad blood between the two +men, for each thought the other had imitated his own ideas. This brought +about more or less dissension, and--well, probably both men lost their +temper, and real hatred ensued." + +Weston tried to adapt his language so as to spare Julie's feelings as +much as possible, for the girl was highly wrought up, and he was +genuinely sorry for her. He knew of the state of things between her and +Thorpe, knew, too, that it explained Benjamin Crane's determination to +free Thorpe from suspicion, if it could be done. + +But Crane was staggered by the disclosure of the hidden vial. + +"It's a clew," he said, but he spoke slowly and thoughtfully. + +"Yes, it's a clew," agreed Weston, "and it will convict the criminal. +The label,--if it ever had one,--has been washed off. The cork is +missing,--and, by the way, if that cork could be found it would help a +lot! But all the same, I've a notion I can trace that bottle to its +source." + +"How?" asked Crane. "Is it of a peculiar shape or style?" + +"No; just a common, ordinary two-ounce bottle, such as most druggists +use all the time. But there's no name blown in it,--that's important, +for many dealers have their names on their glassware, and a blank bottle +is conspicuous of itself." + +"Conspicuous by its rarity,--but not therefore traceable," said Mr. +Crane. + +"Perhaps so,--by elimination----" + +"Nonsense!" Julie cried; "you can't trace it, and you know it! You're +just making believe,--you're what do you call it? framing a case! you're +railroading McClellan Thorpe to prison! I won't have it! Father, surely +you can do something! You _must_!" + +Stifling her sobs, Julie ran out of the room. + +There was an uncomfortable silence and then Benjamin Crane said: + +"You see what a hard position I'm in, Weston." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But of course," Crane sighed deeply, "justice must be done,--only I beg +of you, Weston, use every effort to find another suspect,--a logical +one,--now, don't misunderstand me! I mean, if there can possibly be a +doubt of Thorpe's guilt, and a chance of another man's guilt,--for +Heaven's sake find that other man!" + +"Not a chance." + +"But, at least, keep an open mind. And spare no expense. Get a special +detective,--a big one,--there now, don't bristle! I don't suppose you +think yourself the cleverest in the world, do you? Don't you admit any +superior? If so, get him; if not, then prove your own worth. I repeat, I +want no undue favor shown to McClellan Thorpe, but if he is not the +guilty man, then I want you to move heaven and earth to find the real +criminal. Can't you conceive, Weston, of a murderer so clever as to have +committed the crime, planted the vial as evidence against Thorpe and +made his escape leaving no clew?" + +"I can conceive of such a thing, sir, as I can conceive of a ghost,--but +there is no evidence for either conception." + +"Evidence enough for ghosts, Weston! Haven't you read my book?" + +"Oh, I clean forgot that book you wrote, Mr. Crane. No, I haven't read +it, but my folks have, and I dare say you do believe in spooks. But, +come, now, you don't believe a spook killed Mr. Blair, do you, sir?" + +"No,--and yet, it is within the bounds of possibility----" + +"Not as the police count possibility! There's small chance of any human +agency other than Mr. Thorpe, but far less chance of a supernatural +agent! I'll be getting along, Mr. Crane, if you're going off on that +track." + +"Hold on, Weston, I'm in earnest about this special detective. Suppose I +engage a private one. Can you and he work in harmony?" + +"Oh, yes, I'm not pig-headed. So long as he don't interfere too much, or +get me into any scrapes with his highfalutin tricks,--which they all +have, go ahead and get him. I'll do my own duty, as I see it and as it's +dictated to me by Headquarters; but if you want to engage a dozen +private detectives, there's no law against it. And, sir, I'm free to +confess I feel mighty sorry for that pretty daughter of yours, and if +anybody else can save her man for her, when I can't--why, let him at +it!" + +"Good for you, Weston, I hoped you'd be above petty jealousy. Go on, +now, and see if you can't connect up that empty vial with somebody whose +name isn't Thorpe,--and, I say, you're not going to arrest him yet, are +you?" + +"Not just yet,--but,--well, I'll let you know--soon, where we stand." + +His visitor gone, Benjamin Crane put on his hat and went at once to see +Madame Parlato. He had acquired the habit of an interview with her when +anything bothered him, and his faith in her powers was unshaken. + +His request for a _séance_ was granted, for since the book of Benjamin +Crane's had made such a success, the medium was besieged with patrons, +yet she always gave Crane the preference over other sitters. + +Admitted to the private sanctum, Crane told the Madame he wished to +learn anything possible concerning the death of Gilbert Blair. + +The medium went into a trance as usual, and after a short interval, +announced in her low monotone that the spirit of Peter Crane was +present. + +"My boy," said Crane, eagerly, "do you know who killed Blair?" + +"Yes, father," came the reply, through the voice of Madame Parlato; "do +not seek further than you already know." + +"You mean it was----" + +Benjamin Crane hesitated. He was a cautious man, and often as he had had +this sort of interviews with Peter's spirit, he was always particular to +give no information unnecessarily. + +"Yes,--dad,--it was." + +"Well, who? who, Peter?" + +"Must I say the name?" + +"Yes, boy. But only if you're sure you know. It would be a grave error +otherwise." + +The medium stirred uneasily, and was silent for a time. Then, with a +long drawn sigh, she resumed, "Well, father, if I must tell you, it was +Thorpe." + +"Oh, Peter, not really!" + +"Yes, dad. Don't look any further,--it was Thorpe." + +The medium was silent after that. She came out of her trance state, +looking a little bewildered. + +"Did you get anything?" she asked, for, as she had frequently told her +sitter, she herself knew nothing of what transpired while she was +unconscious. + +"Yes," Crane returned, and knowing there would be no further +communication that day, he went home. + +He found Thorpe there, discussing the matter with Mrs. Crane and Julie. + +"I don't know what to do," Thorpe said, as Mr. Crane joined the group. +"I didn't kill Blair,--at least, I don't think I did." + +"What does that mean?" Crane asked. + +"Only that if I did do it, it was unconsciously." + +"In your sleep?" + +"No; but under hypnotism. I've not much belief in that sort of +thing,--but,--well, you know about occult matters, might it not be +possible?" + +Benjamin Crane was disappointed. He had hoped for a vigorous denial on +Thorpe's part, but this halfway confession seemed to him a mere quibble. +He found himself believing the man guilty and that he was using this +hypnotism suggestion as a last resort to prove innocence. + +"Stop it, father!" Julie cried. "You are thinking Mac did do it, having +been hypnotized by somebody! Well, he didn't! and I _know_ he didn't +and I'll _prove_ it!" + +"Good talk, Julie, but does it mean anything!" asked her father, giving +her a look of gentle sadness. + +"I'll make it mean something! That thick-witted detective doesn't know a +thing! Now, I don't believe in the hypnotism theory----" + +"Why, Julie," said her mother, "I've heard you say you believed in +hypnotism!" + +"Oh, yes, I do, but I mean not in this case. Nobody hypnotized McClellan +to kill Gilbert. I'm sure of that, and I wish you wouldn't repeat it, +Mac. People will only laugh at you." + +"Well, what are you going to do, my child?" asked her father. + +"Oh, I don't know! I'm desperate,-- I will find out something!" + +"Of course you will, Julie, for I'll help you." + +It was Thorpe who spoke, and he seemed to have suddenly acquired a new +energy. + +"I'm going to turn detective myself," he went on. "We'll work together, +Julie, and,-- Mr. Crane, if we succeed,-- I mean succeed in freeing +myself from suspicion----" + +"And finding the real criminal," put in Crane with a very serious face. + +"Yes, and find the real criminal," but Thorpe's face was less bright, +"then, sir, will you give us your blessing?" + +"Yes, McClellan," but Crane's voice had no hearty ring, "yes, when you +are a free man in every sense of the word, you may take my little girl +for your own." + +Thorpe gave him a searching look. "I can't help seeing, Mr. Crane," he +said, "that you think,--or perhaps I may say, you fear I am guilty. I +hope I can prove to you that I am not." + +Crane noticed the wording of his speech. Thorpe hoped to prove to +him,--but he didn't say he was innocent. + +And Benjamin Crane believed the man guilty. Greatly influenced by what +he had heard at the _séance_ with the medium, Crane was still willing to +be convinced to the contrary, but Thorpe's own attitude and words did +not carry conviction. + +"Well, my children," Crane said at last, "here's my proposition. I can't +think your determination to do detective work will produce much fruit. +Now, if you like, I'll engage the best detective I can find and put him +on the job. What say, Thorpe?" + +It was a test question, and Crane eagerly awaited the answer. If Thorpe +were really innocent, he would welcome the clever sleuthing that would +be likely to unearth the truth. + +But he was disappointed to hear Thorpe say, "Not yet, Mr. Crane. Give us +a chance. Let me try,--let us try,"--with a glance at Julie--"give us a +few days, at least,--then, if we gain nothing,--then bring on your +detective." + +"But,-- I hate to say it, Mac, though I dare say you know it,--you may +be arrested any day now." + +Thorpe gave a start, and the sudden pallor that came to his face showed +how the idea affected him. + +"Oh, not that,--hardly that----" + +"Yes, it's imminent." Crane thought best to tell him this. "They--they +say they've got the goods on you, Mac." + +"What--what do you mean by that?" + +"Well," Crane couldn't bring himself to tell of the poison bottle, +"well, my boy, they say that you and Blair quarreled." + +"We did." + +"Over the sketches for the prizes?" + +"Yes, over those, and over other matters." + +"When was this?" + +"We'd been scrapping off and on for some time. Nothing very serious. +But,--well, when Gilbert implied that I had used his ideas, I--I got +mad." + +"And saw red?" + +"Yes, I suppose that's what they call it." + +"The night he--he died?" + +"Yes." + +"Mac," Benjamin Crane looked grave, "suppose you tell me just what +happened that night." + +"Well,--we'd all been to the Club to dinner, you know." + +"Yes." + +"And when we went home, Bob Knight went with us. He was irritating, +somehow,--said he heard Blair and I had combined on our work----" + +"Why was that annoying?" + +"Oh, it implied that Gilbert and I took each other's ideas, or +something,-- I don't know,--anyway, he stirred us up, and when he went +off, Gil and I were touchy. We had some words, and Blair tore up his +sketches, a-and--tore up some of mine, too." + +"He did! No wonder you were annoyed." + +"Yes; they were the ones I had ready,--or, almost ready, to send in." + +"Go on," said Crane, briefly. + +"Well, there's little more to tell. I went into my bedroom and slammed +the door. Yes, I slammed it, for I had lost my temper, and I was mad at +Blair." + +"And then?" + +"I don't know anything more to tell. I heard Blair around the studio for +a time, and once I heard his footsteps near my door, as if he wanted to +speak to me,--maybe make up,--but he didn't say anything or knock, or +call out,--and then, after a time I heard him go into his own bedroom +and close the door." + +"And you heard nothing through the night?" + +"Nothing unusual. The ordinary sounds in the building, of course." + +"And you stayed in your room,--in your bed,--till morning?" + +"Yes, I did. I sleep very soundly, and I sleep late. The details of the +morning, and my finding of Blair,--you know. Don't ask me to recount +all that again." + +"No; I shan't. Are you going on with your work for the competition?" + +"Of course!" Thorpe's face showed surprise at the question. "Why should +I not? I rescued the torn sketches from the waste-basket, and I can copy +them. I've a good chance at it, I think." + +"Now that Blair's out of the running?" + +Thorpe looked up angrily, but as suddenly he became calm. "No, Mr. +Crane," he said, "not because of that. But because Gilbert can't steal +my plans." + +"Unpleasant talk, Mac. I don't like that." + +"But it's true. Blair did take my ideas----" + +"Consciously?" + +"I think so. Why, he incorporated in his design, a particular bit of +drawing that I had invented and shown to him only a day or two before." + +"You must see, McClellan, that your saying that puts a bad face on the +whole affair?" + +"I suppose it does," and the man again relapsed into moody silence. "Oh, +well,--it's all in a lifetime." + +"A lifetime that has just ended,--or one still being lived?" Benjamin +Crane spoke like an avenging justice, and there was no mistaking his +meaning. + +But beyond a startled glance, Thorpe made no reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Carlotta and the Board + + +Much as Benjamin Crane desired to believe in Thorpe's innocence it was +difficult for him to do so, after the disclosure of the medium, Madame +Parlato. In her powers he had absolute faith, of her honesty and +sincerity he was entirely confident, and it was largely the accounts of +her _séances_ that made the bulk of his book about his son's +communications with him. The _séances_ were frequent, still, and at each +one he gained more material for use in a second book. + +The book, the one already published, was in its fourth edition and was +still having large sales. It was called "A Prophecy Fulfilled," and +dealt with the old prophecy of the gypsy,--that Peter should be lost +while on a distant journey, should die a terrible death there, but +should mysteriously return to his family. + +This, Benjamin Crane held, had been accomplished in full. The long +journey, the terrible death, were matters of fact, and Mr. and Mrs. +Crane believed that the return of their son was equally a matter of +fact. + +Wherefore, the book was written in a simple, straightforward style, +without excitement or exaggeration, and it gave detailed recitals of the +happenings at the _séances_. + +Needless to say that the medium was besieged with would-be clients, but +she accepted very few, for the Cranes claimed most of her time. Not that +they were continually in her presence, but the exhaustive nature of her +trances made it impossible for her to devote many hours a day to their +practice. And Benjamin Crane made it quite worth her while, financially, +to reserve for him her peculiar talents. + +The sessions brought forth little that was new or different, but the +parents never tired of what they implicitly believed was absolute direct +communication with their son's spirit through the personality of Madame +Parlato. + +Criticism, disapproval, even ridicule from their friends and +acquaintances moved them not a jot from their faith and trust. + +Wiser and better people than we, believe in it,--they would argue,--and +it is now so much a part of our lives, that I think we could scarcely +live without it. + +And so, they went along, cheered and made happy by the communications +and fully reconciled thereby to the death of their cherished son. + +Julie, though never quite satisfied of the truth of the whole matter, +had become more or less imbued with the atmosphere that she lived in, +and aside from her own feelings, was glad that her parents could be +happy in their grief, even though it were a delusion. + +And the popularity of this book brought him absorbing work and many +outside interests to Benjamin Crane. Continually, people came to see +him, to discuss the question of Continuity, or Life after Death, and to +argue for or against the reappearance of departed spirits. + +Many of these he saw and learned to like and his circle of acquaintances +was continually enlarging. + +Naturally, when he discussed matters with them, the subject of Gilbert +Blair's death was talked of. Crane was a careful man, and rarely told +what happened at his _séances_, save in a general way. For he had +learned of the dangers of having his statements misquoted and +exaggerated, and as a rule, he was canny enough to let his visitors +talk, while he said little. + +And from the consensus of opinion thus gathered, he discovered that +public sentiment was largely against McClellan Thorpe. This troubled +him, for if Thorpe were guilty it was surely Crane's duty to guard his +daughter from a criminal. On the other hand, Julie was so deeply in love +with Thorpe, and so positive that he was in no way a wrong-doer, that +the father's heart was torn. + +But his most vital reason for believing in Thorpe's guilt was the +message from his son to that effect. + +"It rests between our two children," he said to his wife. "Peter tells +us Mac is the guilty man,--and Julie tells us he isn't. Now, we must +learn the truth. I'm going to get a detective, myself,-- I've had a fine +one recommended,--and I don't think we need say anything to Julie or Mac +about it. They asked for a few days to do some 'detecting' on their own +account,--but it won't amount to anything, I feel sure. So I'm going to +engage Pennington Wise,--if I can get him. I'm told he's a most +successful man, though not one of the 'wizards' or know-it-all variety." + +"Very well," Mrs. Crane, as always, agreed; "but don't tell anybody. +Need you?" + +"Yes, I'll tell Weston. It wouldn't be fair not to. You see, I'm in a +peculiar position. I've taken the responsibility of investigating +Blair's death, without any real authority, save that of a friend." + +"Of course your reason is that Julie cares for him." + +"Of course. And I do hope he can be cleared, but if not, it would better +be proved against him, and let Julie know it, and get over it." + +"Yes," Mrs. Crane sighed. "Poor child, it would go hard with her." + +"But she must bear it, if it's the truth. I've hopes of Wise's +discovering another criminal." + +"Then what about Peter's message?" + +"I don't know,--but it's possible Peter may himself be misinformed. You +know we've discovered that the disembodied spirits are not omniscient." + +In the meantime Carlotta Harper was endeavoring to use her occult powers +to solve the mystery of Blair's death. + +Carlotta herself was a mystery. Disavowing any especial clairvoyant +ability, she yet achieved marvelous results from the Ouija Board. + +She scoffed at it herself, yet whenever her finger-tips were on the +board it spelled words rapidly and gave messages that were acclaimed as +truth by the audience. + +One afternoon Shelby was with her, and he, a little timidly, suggested a +trial of the Board. + +"Why, Kit, I thought you detested it," said Carly, surprised. + +"I do; but you're a witch at it, and--suppose it should tell us +something about Blair,--something we don't know----" + +"You think Mac did it, don't you?" Carly spoke hesitantly, for the two +had discussed the subject very little. + +"I don't say so, Carly, yet where else is there to look? If you had +seen, as I did, how much at odds the two chaps were that evening I +dropped in----" + +"The night of the dinner?" + +"Yes, in the late afternoon. They were rowing no end! Then I went off, +but I called for them on the way to the feast,--we always go +together,--and Blair was in a regular stew. Nervous,--couldn't get his +tie right,--and all that. And--Carly,--what do you think? He asked me if +I'd drop you! Think of that! As if I were a sort of man to interfere +with a friend's interests! Why, if he'd told me there was anything +between you two, of course I should have stepped down and out at once. +Was there, Carly?" + +"Nothing definite,--no." The girl spoke wearily, pushing back her thick +mass of dark, wavy hair. "No, Kit, nothing promised. If he had +lived--oh, I don't know. You see, I loved Peter. And I sometimes think I +never can care at all for any one else." + +"But, dear, Peter's dead and Blair's dead,--and you can't live all your +life alone: Just give me a ray of hope, Carly. I won't bother you about +it,--only tell me that some time,--maybe----" + +"Let it stay at that, Kit. Some time it may be--and now come on,--if you +like we'll try the Ouija." + +The session was interesting. Carly never, in any circumstances, pushed +or guided the board in the very least,--nor did she ever sit with any +one whom she suspected of doing so. But with her friends in whom she had +perfect confidence, or with acquaintances who, she knew were eagerly +wanting to learn, not anxious to tell, she often tried the uncanny +thing. + +Lightly they rested their finger-tips on the little wooden heart, and +after a short wait it began to move. + +At Carly's questions, replies came that there was a spirit present and +that it was Peter Boots. + +Neither of the inquirers was surprised at this, for they had fully +expected it. Moreover, both had watched most closely the other's muscles +and fingers and wrists, and each was positive the messages, whatever +their source, were not the result of human deceit. + +After some preliminary talk, Carly said, "You put the questions, Kit." + +So Shelby said, "Peter, you know Blair's gone?" + +"Yes," returned the board. + +"Have you seen him--or I mean, is he with you--in spirit?" + +"Yes" came the answer. + +"Will he talk to us?" + +"No." + +"Well--then can you give us a message from him?" + +"Yes." + +Yes and No are designated on the Ouija Board as words. The movement of +the Board toward these was quick, almost jerky. + +But when the message was asked for,--when Shelby said, "Will he tell us +how he died?" there was a pause and the Board moved aimlessly about. + +At last, Carly said, "Peter, was Gilbert killed?" + +"Yes," came the quick reply. + +"Do you know who killed him?" + +"Yes." + +"Who was it?" + +Carly shot out the question quickly, and immediately the board moved to +T. From that, as the two breathlessly waited, the pointer very slowly +spelled Thorpe. + +The word did not go smoothly,--the board swung round in large loops, but +paused positively at each letter, and then started slowly to the next. + +"You didn't push, Kit?" Carly asked, but more from force of habit than +any doubt of him. + +"Of course not. Nobody could push with you watching, nor was there any +reason why I should. Did you?" + +"Of course not. Don't let's ask each other that. We're both honest. But +you know, Kit, Mr. Crane had a communication from Peter and he said +Thorpe did it. But Mr. Crane thinks maybe Peter doesn't know." + +"Let's try to get Blair's spirit." + +They tried,--if receptive waiting can be called trying,--and at last +they succeeded in receiving the information that Gilbert Blair's spirit +was present. + +"Will you tell us who killed you?" Carly asked at once, fearing lest he +go away. + +Slowly the pointer moved away from the letter T. But after a series of +swirls it stopped definitely at M. + +"Go on," said Carly, in a whisper. + +A long swing of aimless motions and then a stop at A. + +The next stop was at C, and then the board would move no more. + +Carly sighed, and took her hands off. + +"Well, there's the message, Kit. You know Gilbert always called him +Mac,--now what do you think of Ouija?" + +"I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was in +both our minds, and that we subconsciously----" + +"Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to be +said. It's easy enough to say that,--but how can the dead send messages +if the human beings always say,--oh, subconscious pushing!" + +"But, are you so anxious to believe in Thorpe's guilt?" + +"Not that,--but I want to know. Julie's devoted to him, and if he's a--a +murderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,--we must find it +out, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion." + +"We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?" + +"Yes, in so far as I can help. You say, everybody says, that I have +occult powers. If so, I must use them to help,--if they really do help. +But how can I be sure?" + +"I don't know. But I think, perhaps, you'd better leave the whole +occult business alone. It's uncanny if it's real, and it's foolishness +if it's faked." + +"I think Mr. Crane is going to get a special detective," Carly said, +"but, oh, my gracious, I forgot I promised not to tell that. So don't +tell anybody else. I don't suppose they'd mind you knowing." + +"Who's the man?" + +"I think his name is Wise,--good name for a detective!" + +"Never heard of him. But, let's hope he clears Mac." + +"Yes, and finds the real murderer. Do you know I can't realize Gilbert's +gone,--even yet." + +"Don't think about him, Carly. It can't do any good, and it only makes +you sad and morbid. Let me tell you of my hopes and fears, mayn't I?" + +"Of course, go ahead." + +"Well, I'm getting up a big,--a really big enterprise." + +"What?" + +"I hope you won't disapprove, but it's in the Moving Picture business." + +"Why should I disapprove?" + +"Oh, some people sniff at M. P's. But this is a really big, fine +production." + +"Are you the producer?" + +"Yes; don't tell it outside, yet. You see, I've written a big story,--a +picturesque thriller,--and critics who've read it, think it's a wonder. +Now, it's too big to give to anybody,-- I mean, it would be foolish for +me merely to get a royalty,--so I'm going to put it on, myself." + +"Good, Kit, I'm glad to hear it. I always thought you had it in you to +be some sort of an organizer or producer, in some important way." + +"Yes, I've always had that ambition. Well, this is a great yarn! I want +to read it to you some time. Marvelous pictures,--they're being made +now. And that's not all of it,-- I mean to make it into a book----" + +"You can't write a book!" + +"If I can't I'll get it written,--but the plot is such a wonder,--and +the scenes!" + +"Up in Labrador, I'll bet!" + +"Yes, they are, Carly. And corkers! Well, I figure to have the book and +the pictures sprung on an unsuspecting public simultaneously,--and +afterward,--maybe, it will be made into a real play!" + +"And after that, into a Light Opera,--and after that, into Grand Opera?" + +Carly's tone was mocking, but her smile was sweet and approving, and Kit +beamed at her. + +"I knew you'd be interested! I want you to hear the plot soon,--and +would you like to go to the studios?" + +"Where they're making the Labrador pictures?" + +"Yes; they're faked, of course. No sense in going up there to take them. +I know the stuff so well, I can get it up right here." + +"Oh, Kit, you ought to have the real scenes." + +"No; it isn't necessary. Snow's easy enough to manage. But the plot's +the thing! Carly, it's a peach! And then, it's all done up with real +artistry. No crude, raw scenes. All softened with lights and shades and +colors; and everything,--even realism, sacrificed to beauty. It will be +the success of the season, the talk of the town, and it will make my +reputation forever." + +"When will it be put on?" + +"Soon, now, I hope. Well, I mean in a month or so. I'd like to say the +middle of May, and think perhaps I can. It will run all summer and +doubtless longer." + +"And you don't want me to tell of this?" + +"Not quite yet, Carly. I'll let you know when you may." + + * * * * * + +And so, when, after Shelby had gone, and Julie and Thorpe came, Carly +said nothing of the plans for the great Moving Picture. + +Nor did she tell of the Ouija Board experiences she and Shelby had had. +In fact, Carly said little, preferring to let her guests talk. + +And they did. + +"We're detecting," Julie began, and Thorpe, his eyes harassed and +gloomy, had to smile at Julie's enthusiasm. + +"Can I help?" Carly asked, with a loving glance at her friend. + +"I hope so,--but not with your old Ouija Board. I hate it!" + +"Wait till I suggest it," Carly smiled, for she saw Julie was in no mood +for argument. "What can I do?" + +"Only advise. I don't think you're a medium, Carly, but I do think you +have sort of queer powers. Now a queer thing has happened to me. This +morning, on my bureau, there lay a note,--here it is." She handed a +folded paper to Carlotta. + +It read: "Dear little sister. You _must_ give up old Mac. He did for +Gilbert. Peter Boots." + +Carly stared at the note. + +"It's in Peter's own writing!" she said; "what can it mean?" + +"It means fraud!" Julie exclaimed. "I know that's no note from Peter! It +is in his writing----" + +"But so exactly his writing!" Carly said, "nobody could have written +that but Peter himself. Oh, Julie!" + +"Now, stop, Carly! Don't you say it's really a materialization of a note +from Peter! It can't be! I'm afraid to show it to mother or Dad, for I +know they'll say it's really from him,--and I won't believe it." + +"You won't believe it's from Peter, because you don't want to believe +what it says,--isn't that it?" + +Carly looked at Thorpe, though she spoke to Julie. + +"Partly," Julie admitted; "but anyway, I can't believe that Peter,--my +dead brother,--put that real, paper note on my dresser!" + +"If it had said Mac didn't kill Gilbert, would you believe it then?" +Carly asked. + +Julie stared at her, as she took in the question. + +"Yes," she said at last, "in that case, I'd want to believe,--but I +don't see how I could----" + +"Oh, you could, all right," Carly said, "if it meant Mac's innocence was +thereby established." + +"I'm out for justice," Thorpe said; "I hate to hurt Julie's feelings, +but that note doesn't interest me at all,--one way or the other. You +see, if it's a fake,--and I can't help thinking it is, it's somewhat in +my favor, for if faked must it not have been done by the real murderer, +trying to put the blame on me? And if it's real--but, I never discuss +that sort of thing at all. I'm not a believer,--as the Cranes believe, +and yet, feeling toward the Crane family as I do, I refuse to combat +their beliefs or principles. So, as I say, I leave the note out of my +consideration. And, yet, Carlotta, I do want your opinion as to the +genuineness of the handwriting, because you know Peter's fist so +well,--and you're even less likely to be deceived than his family." + +Carly scrutinized the note again. + +"It seems to me it must be Peter's writing," she said at last. "Those +long tails to the filial letters of the words, those are characteristic. +And it's--yes, it's unmistakably his." + +"All right," Thorpe sighed. "I just wanted to know, for Mr. Crane will +know of it sooner or later, and I'm sure he'll identify it as Peter's +writing. + +"And it surely is," Julie added, again staring at the paper. + +"But, Julie, it's _too_ absurd!" Second thoughts convinced Carly of +this. "How could such a thing happen?" + +"I don't know how it could, but it did," Julie said, doggedly. "And so, +Carly, I feel, as Mac says, there's no attention to be paid to this +note. If--mind I say _if_--Peter sent it, why then Peter thinks Mac did +something that he didn't do, that's all. I know Mac is innocent, and so +I shall say nothing of this note to any one, and you mustn't either." + +"I won't," Carly smiled to herself as she realized how many secrets she +was accumulating, "but you will, Julie. You can't keep that from your +father, even though you mean to." + +"Yes, I can, if to tell of it would cast a straw of evidence against +Mac! You see, Carly, we've got to find the real criminal, and I'd rather +do it myself than get a new detective on the job." + +Carly knew this was because Julie feared the astuteness of the new +detective. Which, in turn, meant that Julie, herself, feared Mac's +guilt. Oh, it was a tightly closing net round Mac, as she saw it! + +"I wish I could help," she found herself saying, most unconsciously, so +deeply was she thinking. "But, Julie, you two can do nothing. What are +you expecting to accomplish?" + +"Success," Thorpe made reply. "Complete success. It may sound absurd, +but I think that note is a help to my cause rather than hindrance!" + +"I think so, too," said Carlotta. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Wise and Zizi + + +"Well, Julie, my little girl, the jig is up." + +Thorpe spoke despairingly, and Julie knew only too well what he meant. + +"They're--they're going----" + +"Yes, they're going to arrest me. This is the last call I can pay you." + +Julie didn't break down and cry, nor indeed did she show great emotion +of any sort. She set her curved red lips firmly and said, with an air of +determination: + +"I'm not sure, Mac, that it isn't better so. I mean now we've something +definite to work against. Father's going to get that Mr. Wise, and he'll +soon get you out of--out of--oh, Mac, will they put you in prison? In a +cell?" + +"Yes, dear, until the trial. You see, that little bottle did it for me." + +"And somebody put that in your old paint-box! Who did it, Mac?" + +"Hastings is the only one I can think of. That man never liked me-- I +don't know why, but he never did. And he adored Gilbert----" + +"You don't think he killed Gilbert, then?" + +"Oh, Lord, no! He was always fond of him. But he wants to get me in bad, +and so I think he planted that bottle. It must have been planted, Julie, +I never put it there. I never had it in my possession." + +"Who did kill Gilbert?" + +"I've no idea, but I don't think it was anybody we know. I'm inclined to +the belief that it was some enemy, of long standing. You know Gilbert +Blair's past life was by no means an open book to his friends. He had +turned-down pages that we never knew about or inquired into. It would +not have been impossible for some one to get into his room in the +night----" + +"And give him poison? Not likely!" + +"But it must have been something of the sort, Julie. Blair never killed +himself." + +"No, I suppose not. Oh, Mac, how unfortunate that you and he quarreled +so much. Otherwise they wouldn't have suspected you at all." + +"Yes, they would. It's opportunity they consider, exclusive +opportunity." + +"And that empty bottle! I should think they'd see that's a plant!" + +"They don't see anything an inch away from their noses! I'm the nearest +suspect to hang a charge on, so they choose me." + +Thorpe wasn't pettish, but he was discouraged and unstrung. He knew that +his arrest, which was imminent, was, in part, due to the assertions of +the medium and the Ouija Board. These secrets had leaked out somehow, +and though the detective, Weston, would have scorned to acknowledge it, +he had been more or less biased in his estimates of other evidence by +what he had heard of supernatural communications. + +But of this Thorpe hesitated to speak to Julie. For it was her father +who had brought those things about, and while Thorpe had no use for the +whole mediumistic business, he rarely said so to the Crane family. + +And the note that purported to be from Peter, he believed a bare-faced +fraud. He couldn't understand it, nor imagine how it had been managed, +but he would not believe that it was the work of the dead Peter Crane. + +And so, he submitted helplessly to arrest, for there was no way to prove +his innocence. He had tried "detective work" on his own account, but it +amounted to nothing. The police held that it was an "open and shut" +case, and that Thorpe must have been the murderer. + +Benjamin Crane, though all unwilling to condemn Thorpe, was, of course, +greatly swayed by the supernatural messages, and couldn't help his +belief in them. But, for Julie's sake, and to give Thorpe every possible +chance, he had engaged Pennington Wise, and had invited him to stay at +the Crane house while conducting his investigation. + +So Wise came, and with him came his queer little assistant, the girl +called Zizi. + +There was ample room in the big city house, and the two were treated as +honored guests. + +Wise was alert, quick-witted and tactful, but Zizi was even more so. She +made friends with the Cranes at once, and they all admired the odd, +fascinating girl. Small of stature, dark of coloring, Zizi was not +unlike a gypsy, and the mention of this brought about the tale of the +gypsy's prophecy regarding Peter Boots. + +"What an interesting story," the girl said, after hearing Benjamin Crane +tell it. "It is wonderful how you dear people bear your loss so +bravely." + +"But it isn't really a loss," said Mrs. Crane, "you see, we have our boy +with us continually." + +It was only by desperate effort that Zizi kept from laughing, for of all +fads or whims, spiritism seemed to her the worst and most foolish. But +she was there on business, and part of her business was to gather all +the information she could regarding this same spiritism, so she showed +only deep interest and apparent sympathy with their beliefs. + +"You do believe in these things, don't you?" Mrs. Crane asked, and, +being thus confronted, Zizi had to answer directly. + +"It's hard to say," she replied, "for, you see, I've had so little real +experience. Practically none. But I'm eager to learn, and most +interested in what you tell me." + +"I'm a frank unbeliever," declared Pennington Wise. He had considered +the matter and concluded it was better to state this fact and thereby +rouse the others to defense. + +"You wouldn't be, Mr. Wise," Benjamin Crane said, "if you'd had the +experiences we're continually enjoying. You've read my book?" + +"Yes, Mr. Crane, and an able, well written work it is. But you must +number some among your friends who find difficulty in accepting it in +just the way you do." + +"Certainly, and though I do what I can to convince them, I think none +the less of them for their honest unbelief. But with you right here in +the house, Mr. Wise, it will, I'm sure, be an easy matter to make a +convert of you." + +"We'll see; at any rate, I'm ready to be converted if you can do it. +Now, let's begin with that note your daughter received from--ah, shall I +say from your son?" + +"Of course, it was from my son. You may compare the writing with Peter's +own--we've lots of his letters, and I think you'll be convinced it's no +forgery." + +"And it doesn't seem illogical to you," Wise went on, as he took the +papers Crane handed to him, "that your son should materialize this +paper, this note, and leave it for you, when, if he can do such things, +he doesn't write a letter to his mother or to you?" + +"From the average mortal's point of view there is much that seems +illogical in spiritism," Crane said, easily, as if quite accustomed to +answering such arguments; "we who believe, never question why or why +not. We merely accept." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Crane, "and when we are granted such wonderful boons as +we are, it seems ungrateful and ungracious to ask for anything we do not +get. When I hear my son's voice----" + +"Do you recognize his voice?" asked Zizi. + +"I can hardly say that, my dear, but we have heard Peter talk so often, +through the medium, that it almost _seems_ like his voice." + +"And he told you that Mr. Thorpe was responsible for Mr. Blair's death?" +Zizi went on, wanting a plain statement. + +"Yes, he told us that." + +"Then how can you have any doubt of it?" + +"Spirits do not know everything. It is quite as likely for them to be +misinformed as for earthly people to be. It may be that my boy doesn't +know who killed Gilbert Blair, but has some reason to think it was Mr. +Thorpe." + +"Do you think it was?" + +"I can't say that," Mrs. Crane looked very serious, "nor can I deny it. +We are all so fond of Mr. Thorpe that we can scarcely bring ourselves to +believe ill of him----" + +"But if he is a criminal, we want to know it," her husband interrupted +her. "Mr. Thorpe is engaged to my daughter, and if he is an innocent +man, I want it made clear to the world. If not, then, of course, the +engagement must be broken." + +"He _is_ an innocent man," Zizi said, quietly. + +"Oh, you darling!" cried Julie, running across the room to embrace her. +"How do you know?" + +"By that letter," and Zizi pointed to the note from Peter, which she had +been scrutinizing and comparing with some old letters of Peter's. + +"You think it isn't from my brother?" + +"I know it isn't. I've made a study of handwriting, and whoever wrote +that wrote it in imitation of your brother's writing. I mean the writer +was disguising his own hand and imitating your brother's." + +"How can you tell? They are very much alike." + +"That's just it. The salient points are imitated, the long terminal +strokes, the peculiarities of the capitals, but the less conspicuous +details, such as slant and spacing, are not so carefully copied. It is a +forgery, and though well done enough to deceive the average observer, it +would not deceive an expert." + +"What a lot you know!" and Julie looked at the other girl in surprised +admiration. + +"'Course I do. It's my business to know things. Am I right about this, +Penny Wise?" + +"Yes," he said, smiling at her. "I thought you'd see it. Moreover, Mr. +Crane, this note was written by a man, or by a person capable of deep, +even venomous hatred. If, as may well be the case, it was written by +the murderer of Mr. Blair, and with an intent to throw suspicion on Mr. +Thorpe, then we must look for a criminal of great cleverness and of +patience and perseverance in the workings of his nefarious plans. I mean +a nature of inborn evil, capable of premeditated wrong. This murder of +Gilbert Blair was no impulsive or suddenly brought about job. It was +carefully planned and carefully carried out. If you will show me some of +Mr. Thorpe's writing I will tell you if he forged this note." + +"No, he did not," Wise asserted, after a study of a letter of Thorpe's, +which they gave him; "we cannot say this note signed with your son's +name was written by the criminal we're looking for, but we can be sure +it was not written by McClellan Thorpe. You see, Mr. Crane, penmanship +is a very exact science. Some one forged your son's writing, but he or +she was utterly unable to omit the personal characteristics that are in +every one's hand." + +"And you can deduce character even from a forged hand?" + +"Absolutely. It is those inevitable and unmistakable signs that make the +individual writing a true mirror of character." + +"But it is often impossible to determine the sex of a writer," Zizi +informed them. "Frequently, to be sure, penmanship is undoubtedly that +of a man or a woman, but sometimes it is not definitely evident. In +this case, I think we have the work of a man, but I can't be sure." + +"Who would do it, anyway?" queried Mrs. Crane. + +"Any one interested in concealing the identity of the murderer and +desiring to have Mr. Thorpe suspected. A clever person, because, knowing +of Miss Crane's love of her brother and also knowing of your interest in +the occult, it would doubtless seem to you a strong bit of evidence." + +"It did," Benjamin Crane admitted, "at least, until you proved to us +that it is not a note from my son at all. But you must remember, Mr. +Wise, that we are in no way doubting my son's communications with us in +other ways. If this is not from him, that does not cast doubt on other +communications we have had from him. And, as he has repeatedly told us +that Mr. Thorpe is responsible for Blair's death, I can only say that my +boy may be mistaken, and I sincerely hope he is." + +"Of course, he is," Julie cried. "Peter has sent us other messages that +turned out to be untrue, but he was mistaken." + +"You believe in the mediums, then?" asked Zizi, flashing her big dark +eyes at the girl. + +"Oh, I don't know. I didn't at first, and I was unwilling to, but I've +heard so much and seen so much, and, of course, I can't help being +influenced by Dad and Mother." + +"Of course not," agreed Zizi. "It's all so interesting to me. I'm only +afraid I'll become so absorbed in the spirits that I'll neglect the +detective work." + +"It may be they're interdependent," Wise observed. + +"They are, I'm sure," said Julie. "You see, Mr. Wise, it's not only +father and the medium that have told us things against Mr. Thorpe, but +we have a friend who is an expert on the Ouija Board----" + +Zizi rolled her eyes skyward. + +"Oh," she groaned, "I thought you people were real honest-to-goodness +Spiritists!" + +"We are," defended Crane. + +"Not if you fool with an Ouija Board!" + +"But Carly, Miss Harper, can make it tell wonderful things," Julie went +on, "things of which she really knows nothing." + +"But the other person at the Board knows them?" + +"Well, maybe; but they can't get Ouija to tell them without Miss Harper +has her fingers on, too." + +"And Ouija is against Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Yes; at least it has said he was guilty, but, as you say, an Ouija +Board means nothing." + +"It means something, indeed, but not the thing it says." + +"A brilliant remark, Zizi!" Wise smiled at her. + +"But I mean just that, Penny. I'm getting a line on this thing, and I +think that the criminal or the criminal's friends or accomplices are +utilizing occult forces in their own behalf. I think, Miss Crane, the +more messages you get telling you of Mr. Thorpe's guilt the more you +may believe in his innocence!" + +"Look out, Ziz, don't go too fast," Wise counseled her. "You've only +begun this thing--there's a lot yet to be learned." + +"I'll learn it, and I'm sure I'm headed in the right direction. And I'd +like very much to see this Miss Harper. The Ouija witch! Has she told +you to suspect Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Don't put it that way," Julie begged. "Miss Harper is my dearest +friend, and whatever she does with the Ouija Board is absolutely honest +on her part, absolutely free from deceit." + +"Then she's a unique case," declared Zizi. "Never has such a thing been +known to science." Her smile robbed the words of invidious intent, and +though Julie stood up for Carlotta's innocence, she had always wondered +whether there was not some involuntary, even unconscious helping along +done to the little board. + +"Let's go to see her now," she suggested, and Wise agreeing, the two +girls started off. + + * * * * * + +"This is Miss----?" Julie looked inquiringly at the girl she was about +to introduce to Carlotta, remembering she didn't know her last name. + +"Just Zizi," was the smiling reply, and the slim little dark hand was +held out in greeting. "I'm so glad to know you, Miss Harper. For, though +I admit I don't believe in Ouija, I am interested, and Miss Crane tells +me you never 'push'." + +"No, I never do that," Carlotta smiled, "but don't think I believe in +the thing, for I don't at all. It amuses me, and it puzzled me, at +first, but now I understand it, and it's beginning to lose interest for +me." + +"Understand it?" Zizi looked bewildered. "You mean----" + +"I mean I know what makes it work, why it tells the truth, when it does +tell the truth, and why it fibs when it does fib." + +Carly Harper's face was frank and honest; she had no effect of mystery +or clairvoyant power, and Zizi was bewildered. + +"I am indeed glad to know you!" she exclaimed, "will you impart this +knowledge to me, or is it a secret?" + +"It's not a secret, perhaps it isn't knowledge, it's, after all, only my +own theory, or rather, discovery, based on long and wide experience." + +Zizi was enchanted. + +"Oh, goody!" she cried, her black eyes dancing. "I'm crazy to know just +what you mean! Will you give me a session with the board?" + +"Will you promise not to push?" + +"Of course, and, anyway, you'd know it if I did." + +So Carly got the board, and the two sat at it, while Julie looked on. + +The usual routine followed, and at last the professed spirit of Peter +Crane was "present." + +On being asked if Thorpe killed Gilbert Blair, the Ouija Board promptly +replied "No." + +"Oh, Peter, the other day you said he did!" Carlotta exclaimed, but +again the Board flew to the corner where "No" was printed. + +Julie, watching closely, was sure neither of the girls in any way +cheated or helped things along. She was an acute observer, and she was +certain both the manipulators were strictly sincere. + +"Well, then," Zizi said, her thin, dark fingers merely touching the +little wooden heart, "who did?" + +There was no reply. Motionless the board remained, and no persuasion +would induce it to move. + +Other subjects were brought up, questions were asked to which only +Carlotta knew the answer, or to which only Zizi did, and they were +answered, if not always definitely, at least in a general way. But when +they returned to the question about Blair there was no response. + +"Don't you know?" Carlotta demanded of Peter's "spirit," which +obligingly announced its presence when requested. + +But the board remained stationary, and they finally gave it up. + +"All of which goes to prove my theory the true one," Carlotta declared, +and then Zizi begged her to disclose her discoveries. + +"Why, you see, it's this way," Carlotta began, "you get out of the +Ouija Board exactly what you bring to it, no more, no less." + +"Just what do you mean by that?" + +"That nobody gets any information from the board unless it is already in +his mind. When we ask questions, to which one of us knows the answer, +that answer comes. Mind you, I don't mean that one of us pushes the +board in the right direction, at least not consciously, but it is +inevitable that the mind leaps ahead, and when a word is started we +know, usually, what letter is coming next, and we receptively await it. +You see, unless you hold your hands still purposely, the board is bound +to move. Naturally it goes to the words you have in mind, and unless you +purposely check it, the message is bound to come. If it is something I +know and you don't, the board starts off, and as the words form, you +don't stop them nor do I, yet we don't really force them, it's more as +if we thought on the board. This is proved, to my mind, by the fact that +if either party knows the answer, it always comes; if neither knows it, +you can't get it. Usually the message is something that can't be +verified anyway, and often the message is untrue. But people notice and +remember the few times the truth is told, and quickly forget the other +times. In no case are they messages from the dead. It is not Peter's +spirit talking to us at all. It is merely our minds, subconsciously or +not, that impel involuntary muscular action in the slightest degree, and +our eagerness to get a certain word or phrase, brings it about. +Tradition and habit ascribe the messages to the dead, and the universal +desire to get such communications is responsible for the belief that +they are such. Now, here's proof. Whenever I have asked the Board who +killed Gilbert it has responded with the name of the person whom my +companion thought guilty. I have no idea who is the criminal, neither, I +take it, has Zizi; consequently, as we are both open-minded and waiting +for the answer, we get nothing." + +"Right," and Zizi nodded her head. "People fool themselves into +believing they get information from Ouija. But, if they were honest, +they would have to admit that never has it told a truth that was not +known to at least one person present. Of course, I except coincidences, +which must happen occasionally." + +"But," objected Julie, "then why will it work so much better when Carly +has her hands on?" + +"Just because I'm impassive," Carlotta said, "and sit quietly while the +other one gets the message she wants. Without effort the message desired +comes, merely because nobody stops it." + +"Then," said Julie, "none of the help we get from Ouija means anything +at all?" + +"No, and it isn't help," said Zizi. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"Labrador Luck" + + +Kit Shelby's play was a wonderful success. Though a motion picture, it +was one of the finest ever produced, and no expense had been spared to +make it the sensation of the season. It was called "Labrador Luck." + +The Crane family attended the opening night, as, indeed, all Shelby's +friends did, and the verdict was unanimous that never had such a +beautiful and finished play been screened. The scenes of ice-bound +Labrador were picturesque and fascinating, while the plot was ingenious +and thrills plentiful. The audience applauded continuously, for so real +was the acting that it seemed as if the performers were actually there. + +Benjamin Crane had helped Shelby finance the production, and he realized +at once that he would get his money back with interest. + +"It's a gold mine, boy!" he said to Shelby, as they were all at the +Crane home afterward, "and it must be made into a spoken drama. There's +scope for a great play in that plot." + +"Marvelous plot," commented Pennington Wise. "All your own, Mr. Shelby?" + +"Yes," Kit replied, with frank pride; "it did turn out well, didn't it?" + +"And you're going to make a book of it, too, aren't you?" asked Julie. + +"Yes, a book, and a serial story and, oh, I'm going to do lots of things +with it!" + +"Grand opera, maybe!" chaffed Julie. + +"Why not?" said Shelby, seriously. "Slighter plots than that have been +put into grand opera. It may yet come about." + +Without undue conceit Shelby was quite conscious of his great success, +and as he walked home with Carlotta from the Crane house, he begged her +to consent to his repeated proposals of marriage. + +"This thing will make me rich, dear," he said, "and while that sounds +mercenary, it does make me glad to have a fortune to offer you." + +"But I don't love you, Kit," and Carlotta smiled carelessly at him. + +"You will, Carly. You'll have to, 'cause I love you so. Oh, sweetheart, +I love you just desperately-- I must have you, my little girl, I must!" + +"Now, Kit, you wouldn't want a wife who didn't care for you as a woman +ought to care for the man she marries. Truly, my heart is still Peter's. +I sometimes think I'll never marry, his memory is so vivid and so dear +to me." + +"Weren't you beginning to care for Blair?" + +"N-no; not that way. Of course I was fond of Gilbert, and I'm fond of +you, but there's always the thought of Peter between us." + +"But, Carly, there's no one you care more for than for me, is there?" + +"No, I'm sure of that." + +"Then say yes, darling. Even though you won't marry me quite yet, let's +be engaged, and truly you'll soon learn to love me. I'll make you!" + +But Carlotta wouldn't consent, and Shelby had to be content with her +promise to think about it. + +"Kit," she said, suddenly, "are those queer detectives going to find out +who killed Gilbert?" + +"Oh, I suppose they'll fasten it on Mac. Poor chap, to think of his +being in jail while we're having all this excitement over my play. But I +don't see any other direction for Wise to look. What a funny little +thing that Zizi is." + +"Yes, but I like her a lot. And she's nobody's fool! Her black eyes take +in everything, whether she remarks on it or not. You should have seen +her watch you to-night." + +"When?" + +"At the Cranes', when you were talking about the play." + +"She's dramatic herself. She ought to be in the Moving Pictures!" + +"Yes, she'd be a film queen at once." + + * * * * * + +Zizi must have had something of the same idea in her own mind, for the +next day she went to see Shelby at his office and asked him if he could +give her a chance at film work. + +"But you're a detective," Shelby said, amusedly, "what would Mr. Wise do +without you?" + +"He'd get along all right," Zizi said earnestly. "He's willing I should +have a try at a screen career, if you'll take me on." + +"I'm not sure I could use you," Shelby returned, "at least not at +present. If I do another picture I'll try you out in it." + +"Oh, you are going to do another, aren't you?" + +"Probably, but not until I've exhausted all the different possibilities +of this one." + +Zizi showed her disappointment at the failure of her plan, but, after +some further talk on general subjects, she went back to the Cranes'. + +"Well, Ziz," Wise said to her, as they discussed the case alone, "we're +not making our usual rapid headway this time. Rather baffling, isn't +it?" + +"Everything seems to point to Thorpe, except that I can't think he had +motive enough. That foolish jealousy of the plans and suspicion of +Blair's stealing his ideas isn't enough to make him commit murder." + +"I don't think he did do it, but I can't agree with you that it wasn't a +big enough motive. You don't know how the artistic temperament resents +anything like that. Nor how it imagines and exaggerates the least hint +of it. I think his motive is the strongest point against Thorpe. Who +else had any motive at all?" + +"That's what we have to find out. And we're going to do it. And, I say, +Penny, I want to go to see that medium person the Cranes are so fond +of." + +"Think she'll help you?" + +"Yes, though not by her spiritism. But I suspect she's one big fraud, +and I want to be sure." + +"Come along, then. No time like the present. Mr. Crane can arrange a +session for us." + +To Madame Parlato's they went, and soon had the pleasure of seeing that +lady in one of her trances. + +The room was dimly lighted but not in total darkness. After a silence a +faint, low-pitched voice said, "I am here." + +"Are you Peter Crane?" asked Zizi, who chose to be spokesman. + +"Yes." + +"Will you talk to us?" + +"Yes, for a short time only." + +"Very well, then tell us who killed Gilbert Blair." + +"His friend, McClellan Thorpe. Good-by." + +"Wait a minute. I own up to being skeptical, is it too much to ask for +some proof of your identity, Peter Crane? Will you, can you give some +material proof?" + +"It is not easy." + +"I'm sorry for that, but, oh, I do so want to be convinced. And I +can't, unless I have something tangible to take away with me. Do give me +something." + +There was a silence, and then, apparently from nowhere, a handkerchief +fluttered through the air and fell at Zizi's feet. + +Amazed, the girl picked it up, and though she could not see it +distinctly, she discovered it was a large one, evidently a man's. + +Suddenly the medium sat up straight, came out of her trance, and putting +on the lights, said, eagerly, "Did you get any message?" + +"I should say I did!" Zizi returned, "and a material proof, too. Look!" + +"Wonderful!" exclaimed Madame Parlato, as she looked at the white square +of linen. "Initialed, too." + +"Yes, P. C.," and Zizi scrutinized the embroidery. + +Pennington Wise expressed a polite admiration for the medium who could +bring about such marvelous results, and the _séance_ over, the two +departed, Zizi carrying the handkerchief in her bag. + +"One of a set of Peter's," Wise said, confidently. + +"Of course. Julie or Mrs. Crane will recognize it. Funny, how she +thought a crude performance like that would convince us!" + +"Mighty well done though." + +"Pooh, in a darkened room one can do anything." + +"Well, where did she get the handkerchief?" + +"Dunno, yet. Maybe the Cranes left it there by chance." + +"Oh, no, that won't do. Guess again." + +"I think I could if I tried. But we'll see what the family say about +it." + +Both Mrs. Crane and Julie declared the handkerchief to be one of Peter's +own, and, moreover, that it was one of a set Carlotta had embroidered +for him just before he went to Labrador. And he had taken the whole +dozen with him, of that they were both sure. It had been Carly's parting +gift, and Peter had been delighted with it. + +"It's too wonderful!" Julie said, amazed. "Now, how do you explain it, +Zizi? We know this to be Peter's own handkerchief. We know he took it to +Labrador with him. How did it get back here? How get into Madame +Parlato's possession? And how appear to you, out of nothingness?" + +"Yes," said Benjamin Crane, smiling happily, "answer those questions +satisfactorily, or else admit that it is real materialization!" + +Wise looked a little nonplused. Positive though he was of the medium's +trickery, he could not tell Mr. Crane exactly how it had come about. +Materialization was easy enough for a charlatan, but, as had been said, +where could she get the handkerchief to do the trick with? + +Convinced of the Cranes' honesty, of course, Wise couldn't doubt that +Peter had taken all the handkerchiefs with him. His luggage had never +been sent home, therefore how did the handkerchief get to New York, and +more especially how did it get to Madame Parlato? + +"I can't explain it yet," Wise said, frankly, "but I'll find out all +about it. To you, Mr. Crane, it seems additional proof of your son's +communication through that medium. To me it is additional and very +strong proof of her fraud. Now, we'll leave it at that for the present, +but I promise to explain it to you soon." + +"All right, Mr. Wise, you'll not be offended, I trust, if I say I don't +believe you can make good your word. But I'm not surprised at your +attitude. Some minds are almost incapable of belief in the occult, and +will accept the most absurd and far-fetched explanations rather than the +simple and plausible one of spirit communication. I can't understand +such a mental attitude, but I've met so many like you that I'm obliged +to recognize its existence." + +"Oh, Mr. Wise," Mrs. Crane said, "it does seem so strange that a +clear-headed, deep-thinking man like yourself prefers to believe that +Madame Parlato could get Peter's handkerchief and could produce it so +mysteriously for you rather than the rational belief that Peter sent it +himself." + +Zizi looked at the speaker with kindly eyes. + +"Dear Mrs. Crane," she said, "what will hurt me most when we expose that +medium's fraud is the fact of your disappointment." + +"Don't worry about that," smiled Benjamin Crane, "you haven't exposed +her yet! Meantime, I shall incorporate this experience of the +handkerchief in my next book." + +"Oh, don't!" cried Zizi, involuntarily. "You'll make yourself a +laughing-stock----" + +She paused, unwilling to hurt his feelings. + +But so assured of his beliefs was Benjamin Crane that he shook his head +and said: + +"No fear of that, child. I'll take all risks. Have you any idea how my +book has been received? It's just gone into another big edition, and my +publishers are clamoring for my second book, which is nearly finished. +But to return to the case of McClellan Thorpe. Did Peter tell you----" + +"Yes," Wise said, "according to Madame Parlato, the spirit of your son +said that Thorpe is the criminal, and it was as proof of identity that +Zizi received the handkerchief." + +"Fine," said Crane, nodding his satisfaction, "I think I'll use that +_séance_ for the finale of my book, and get it in press at once." + +"Do, dear," said his wife, "as far as the handkerchief is concerned. But +don't put in the book that Mac killed Gilbert." + +"Oh, no, certainly not. In the first place, we're all agreed that though +Peter believes that, it is a mistake on his part; that is, it may be a +mistake. Don't let it influence you too much, Mr. Wise." + +Penny Wise laughed outright. He couldn't help it. + +"No, sir," he promised, "I won't!" + +"But have you any other suspect?" + +"I'd rather not answer that question quite yet, Mr. Crane." + +"All right, take your own time. I've confidence you'll do all you can, +but my hopes of your success are dwindling." + +"Don't feel that way, on the contrary, I'm beginning to see at least a +way to look for another suspect." + +"Look hard, then. For I want to get Mac cleared as soon as it can be +brought about." + +"We'll hope to do that. I'm going over to the Studios now, and I've a +notion I'll discover something." + +Accompanied by Zizi, Wise went to the home that Blair and Thorpe had +occupied, and which was now in charge of the police. + +The detective set himself to the task of looking over old letters and +papers in hope of finding out some secret of the dead man's past. + +Zizi flitted about the rooms, looking for nothing in particular, and +everything in general. + +"I've sized up his medicines," she said, coming from Blair's bedroom +into the studio where Wise sat at the desk. + +"His cough syrup hasn't been touched lately. The dried up stickiness of +the cork shows that. And one or two other bottles are in the same +condition. But in the waste basket in his bedroom I found this." + +She held up an empty bottle that was labeled soda mints. + +"There's a new full bottle in the medicine chest," she went on, "and as +this was in the basket, mayn't it be that he took the last ones, +and----" + +"And they were poisoned!" + +"One of them was. See, somebody had put a poisoned one in among the +others." + +"That leads back to Thorpe, who else could do that?" + +"And we don't know that anybody did, only it might have been." + +"Can you smell any prussic acid in the vial?" + +"No," and Zizi sniffed at it, "I seem to think I do, but I daresay it's +my vivid imagination. Do you suppose a chemist could discern any?" + +"Probably not, but we might make a try at it. Pretty slim clue, anyway, +Ziz." + +"I know it, but I have a hunch it's the real thing. You see, Blair was +in the habit of taking these things----" + +"How do you know?" + +"Carlotta Harper told me. I've quizzed her a lot about Mr. Blair's +personal habits, and he always carried soda mints in his pocket, and +took one now and then. So, as there was no soda mint bottle found in his +pockets, and this was in the basket, it's a logical deduction that he +finished this bottle that night that he died. And they all think the +poison was given to him through some simple trick, so why not this?" + +"It may be. It very likely is. But where does it get us?" + +"Dunno yet. But, say it was done that way, it needn't have been done +here. Maybe the murderer put a poisoned mint in the bottle when they +were somewhere together." + +"How could he?" + +"Oh, lots of ways. Say Blair had his coat off, playing golf or +billiards, or----" + +"He'd carry such a bottle in his waistcoat pocket, I think." + +"Well, it's all surmise. The thing to do is to begin from the other end. +Who had a motive?" + +"That's what I'm trying to trace. Nothing doing as yet. Hello, here's +that old letter from Joshua, the guide. Look at it! It is in a small, +cramped hand, and you know the one purporting to be from him later was +in a big, sprawly hand. Somebody faked that letter!" + +"Well, there's something to work on, then." + +"But maybe Thorpe did it." + +"Not he. Why should he? He had nothing to do with that Labrador trip." + +"What was the letter about, the other Joshua letter?" + +"Advising him not to try to bring Peter Crane's body down to New York, +or to postpone the matter, or something like that." + +"Queer business, that. Why should anybody want to fake a letter like +that?" + +"I don't believe anybody did. More likely some one else wrote for the +guide. They're an ignorant lot, and writing is an unwelcome task to +them." + +They were still looking at the guide's letter when Shelby came in. + +"I heard you were here," he said, "and thought it would be a good time +to come around. I want to see if there's anything in Blair's papers that +would help to turn suspicion away from Mac Thorpe. I don't believe that +man did it, and I wish we could free him." + +"That's what we're after," and Wise made room for Shelby to sit beside +him at Blair's desk. + +But though they made systematic search of all letters they found none +other than friendly. There were some from his mother and sister, +pathetic ones, telling of their ill health, for both were invalids. + +They had not come East on learning of Blair's death, for they could not +well stand the trip, and, too, there was no real reason for their +coming. After the police investigation was over Blair's effects were to +be sent to them, but for the present everything remained as it was found +at his death. + +"Let me help you, if I can," Shelby went on to Wise. "You know Blair and +I were chums. Poor Gilbert, and Peter Boots, too, both gone, and both +by such tragic means. I don't know which death was the worse." + +Zizi showed him the small bottle she had found, and asked his opinion of +her theory about it. + +"What an ingenious notion," Shelby exclaimed; "yes, it might be the +truth, of course, but a dozen other ways might have been used either." + +"Such as what?" asked Wise, "it's always a help to talk these things +over." + +"Well, granting that some one administered poison to Blair, secretly, +mightn't he have put it in anything that Blair was about to eat or +drink?" + +"Not this poison," objected Wise. "It acts too quickly. Whatever plan +was adopted, it was some scheme by which Blair would take the poison +unknowingly, but naturally. As Zizi says, if it had been put in some one +of his bottles of medicine, he must take it, sooner or later." + +"Yes; well, then say it was put in a cigarette, no that's foolish; why, +hang it all, Wise, don't you see there's no plausible theory except that +some one put it in a drink Blair took just before going to bed, or even +after he was in bed." + +"Where's the glass, then?" + +"That's just the point. What's the answer, except that Thorpe washed it +and put it away? Of course, Blair would take a drink Thorpe offered +him." + +"Also, he might have taken a soda mint just as he went to bed or after," +said Zizi. + +"Yes," agreed Shelby, thoughtfully. "He might have done so, but could +one introduce poison into one of those things? They're quite hard, you +know." + +"Yes, it could be done," Wise declared. "I've heard of such a thing +before. The little pellet could be soaked in the poison----" + +"That would make it taste, and he wouldn't swallow it," Shelby said. + +"True. Well, I think, with a hypodermic needle, the poison could be got +into the mint." + +"Maybe, but I doubt it. However, I don't know much about such things. +You're doubtless experienced." + +"Yes, I've had a lot of poison cases. And, if we give up all thought of +the soda mint, it does come back to a drink of some sort mixed by +Thorpe." + +"Or Blair might have mixed his own drink, and Thorpe added the poison, +unnoticed." + +"But I want to get away from Thorpe," Zizi said, her eyes anxious and +worried. + +"So do we all," returned Shelby gravely. "But where can we look?" + +"Where, indeed?" echoed Penny Wise. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A Prophecy Fulfilled + + +Among the passengers disembarking from a steamer at a Brooklyn pier was +a tall, gaunt man, who walked with a slight limp. + +He was alone, and though he nodded pleasantly to one or two of his +fellow passengers, he walked by himself, and all details of landing +being over, he took a taxicab to a hotel restaurant, glad to eat a +luncheon more to his taste than the ship's fare had been. + +He bought several New York papers, and soon became so absorbed in their +contents that his carefully selected food might have been dust and ashes +for all he knew. + +Staring at an advertisement, he called a waiter. + +"Send out and get me that book," he said, "as quick as you can." + +"Yes, sir," returned the man, "it's right here, sir, on the news-stand. +Get it in a minute, sir." + +And in about a minute Peter Boots sat, almost unable to believe his own +eyes, as he scanned the chapter headings of his father's book, detailing +the death and the subsequent experiences of him who sat and stared at +the pages. + +He looked at the frontispiece, a portrait of himself, but bearing little +resemblance to his present appearance. For, where the pictured face +showed a firm, well-molded chin, the living man wore a brown beard, +trimmed Vandyke fashion, and where the expression on the portrait showed +a merry, carefree smile, the real face was graven with deep lines that +told of severe experiences of some sort. + +But the real face grinned a little at the picture, and broke into a +wider smile at some sentences read at random as the pages were hastily +turned, and then as further developments appeared, the blue eyes showed +a look of puzzled wonder, quickly followed by horror and despair. + +Peter closed the book and laid it aside, and finished his luncheon in a +daze. + +One thing stood forth in his mind. He must take time to think--think +deeply, carefully, before he did anything. He must get away by himself +and meet this strange, new emergency that had come to him. + +What to do, how to conduct himself, these were questions of gravest +import, and not to be lightly settled. + +He thought quickly, and concluded that for a secure hiding-place a man +could do no better than choose a big city hotel. + +Finishing his meal he went to the desk and asked for a room, registering +as John Harrison, which was the name by which he had been known on the +ship that had brought him to port. + +Once behind the locked door of his room he threw himself into an +armchair and devoured the book he had bought. + +Rapidly he flew through it; then went over it again, more slowly, until +Peter Boots was familiar with every chapter of the book that his father +had written in his memory. + +Memory! And he wasn't dead! + +The book, he saw, had gone through a large number of editions, +wherefore, many people had read the tale of his tragic fate in the +Labrador wild, and of his recrudescence and communications with his +parents, and now, here he was reading it himself. + +It is not easy to realize how strange it must seem to read not only +one's own death notices but the accounts of one's return to earth in +spirit form, and to be informed of the astonishing things one said and +did through the kind offices of a professional medium! + +A medium! Madame Parlato! And she "got in touch" with him! She succeeded +in getting messages from him--and materializations! + +Peter's chicory blue eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read of +the "materialization" of his tobacco pouch. + +"Jolly glad I know where it is," he thought; "I've missed the thing, but +how did it waft itself to a professional medium! Bah! the stuff makes +me sick! + +"But Dad wrote it! Dad--my father! And mother's in the game! Got to read +the book all over again." + +And again he delved into the volume, seeming unable to take in the +appalling fact of what had been done. + +"They believe it!" he said at last, reaching the final page for the +third time; "they believe it from the bottom of their blessed souls! + +"Who is that medium person? Where'd she get the dope to fool the old +folks? Let me at her! I'll give her what for! Messages to mother from +her departed son! 'Do not grieve for me,' 'I am happy over here,' Oh, +for the love o' Mike! what _am_ I going to do first?" + +Followed a long time of thought. At first, chaotic, wondering, +uncertain, then focussing and crystallizing into two definite ideas. + +One, the astonishing but undeniable fact of his father's belief and +sincerity, the other, what would happen if that belief and sincerity +were suddenly stultified. + +"Good Lord!" he summed up, "when I appear on the scene that medium will +get the jolt of her sweet young life-- I assume she's young still, and +Dad---- + +"H'm, where will he get off?" + +That gave him pause. For Benjamin Crane to have written such a book as +this, for it to have achieved such a phenomenal success and popularity, +for it to have been the means, as it doubtless was, of converting +thousands to a belief in Spiritism, then, for the whole thing to be +overturned by the reappearance in the flesh of the man supposed dead, +would mean a cataclysm unparalleled in literary history. + +And his father? The dear old man, happy in his communications from his +dead son, how would he be pleased to learn that they were not from his +dead son at all, but the faked drivel of a fraudulent medium? + +It was a moil, indeed. + +Peter Crane had come home incognito, because he doubted the wisdom of a +sudden shock to his parents. Unable to send or get news, and making his +voyage home at the first possible opportunity, he had intended to learn +how matters stood before making his appearance. + +He had intended telephoning Blair and Shelby, and if they said all was +well at home he would go there at once. But if there had been illness or +death he would use care and tact in making his presence known. + +For Peter Boots had had no word of, or from his people for half a +year--all the long Labrador winter he had lived in ignorance of their +welfare and had suffered to the limit, both mentally and physically. + +And he had thought they would probably assume his death--as, by reason +of this astonishing book he now knew they had done--and, what was he to +do about it? + +Impulse would have sent him flying home--home to his mother, Dad and +Julie, and--and dear little Carly. + +But--when he thought of the possibility of his reappearance being the +means of making his father's name a by-word of ridicule, of heaping on +the old man's fame obloquy and derision, of shocking his mother, perhaps +fatally, or at least into a nervous prostration, he was unable to shape +a course. + +Could he tell Carly first? He glanced at a telephone book at his elbow. + +No, that would never do. To hear his voice on the telephone would throw +her into a convulsion. He didn't believe she stood for that spirit +foolishness, but if, by any chance, she had been won over, his voice +would surely give her some sort of a shock. + +The boys, then. Yes, that was the only thing. He must see them, but he +must telephone first and learn their whereabouts. + +He could, he concluded, call in a disguised voice, and get a line on +things anyhow. + +So, still in a haze of doubt and uncertainty, he looked up the number +and called Shelby. + +As he rather expected, Shelby was not at his home, but the person who +answered could give no directions save to say that Mr. Shelby would +probably be home by six o'clock, and would he leave a message? + +"No," returned Peter shortly, and hung up. + +Getting next the number of the Leonardo Studios, he asked for Gilbert +Blair. + +"W-what--who?" came a stammering response. + +"Mr. Blair--Mr. Gilbert Blair," repeated Peter. + +"Why--why, he's dead--Mr. Blair's dead." + +"No! When did he die?" + +"Coupla months ago. Murdered." + +"What!" + +"Yep, murdered." + +Peter hung up the receiver from sheer inability to do anything else. + +Of course it couldn't be true. Blair couldn't have been murdered, and he +must have misunderstood that last word. But his arm seemed paralyzed +when he tried again to take hold of the telephone. + +He sank back in his chair and tried to think. + +His subconscious mind told him that he had not misunderstood--that +Gilbert was murdered. He knew he had heard the word correctly, and +people do not make such statements unless they are true. + +His thoughts gradually untangled themselves and he began to grapple with +the most important problems. + +It was clear that he must learn what had happened in his absence. He +wanted to get hold of Shelby and ask about Blair. He wanted to go right +over to Blair's place--but if--if _it_ had occurred two months ago there +was small use going there now. + +Also, he must preserve his incognito for the present, at least. His +return would be blazoned in the papers as soon as it was known, and the +effect on his father's reputation would be most disastrous. + +He must learn more facts--the facts he had already discovered were so +amazing, what else might not be in store for him? + +Concentrating on the subject of Blair's death he concluded his best +course would be to get a file of newspapers covering the past two months +and read about it. + +In a big newspaper office he accomplished this, and spent the rest of +the afternoon reading up the case. + +Of late the subject was not a principal one in the papers. + +McClellan Thorpe was in prison, awaiting his trial, and the police, +while still on the job, were not over aggressive. + +Pennington Wise was not mentioned, so Peter had no means of knowing that +that astute person was connected with the matter. + +But the news of Thorpe's arrest struck Peter a new blow. While not as +chummy with Thorpe as with Shelby and Blair, Peter had always liked him +and found it difficult to believe him guilty of Blair's death. + +Back to his hotel went the man registered as John Harrison, and, going +to the restaurant for dinner, he ate and enjoyed a hearty meal. + +After all, strange and weird as was the news he had heard, his parents +were alive and well--and, strangest of all, they were not grieving at +his death. + +He was relieved at this, and yet, he was, in an inexplicable way, +disappointed. It _is_ a blow in the face to learn that your loved ones +are quite reconciled to your death because, forsooth, they get fool +messages from you through the services of a fool medium! + +Peter's ire rose, and he was all for going to his father's house at +once, and then, back came the thought, how could he put that dear old +man to the blush for having written that preposterous book? + +From the papers, too, Peter had learned of the furor the book had made, +of the great notoriety and popularity that had come to Benjamin Crane +from its publication, of the enormous sales it had had, and was still +having, and of the satisfaction and happiness the whole thing had +brought to both Mr. and Mrs. Crane. + +So, stifling his longing to go home and to see his people, Peter decided +to sleep over it before taking any definite steps. + +He had small fear of recognition. Nobody in New York believed him alive, +or had any thought of looking for him. His present appearance was so +different from the portrait in the book that, after he had changed his +looks still further by a different brushing of his hair, he felt there +was no trace of likeness left save perhaps his blue eyes. And only one +who knew him well would notice his eyes, and he had no expectation of +running up against one who knew him well. + +So, after dinner, he sat for a time in the hotel lobby, not wishing to +mingle with his fellow men, yet not wishing to seem peculiar by reason +of his evading notice. + +Worn with the succession of shocks that had come to him, and weary of +meeting the big problems and situations, he thought of diversion. + +"Any good plays on?" he asked the news-stand girl, and his winning smile +brought a chatty response. + +"Plays--yes. Nothing corking, though. But say, have you seen the big +movie?" + +"No; what is it?" + +"'Labrador Luck,' oh, say, it's a peach! Go to it!" + +"Where?" and Peter stopped himself just in time from exclaiming, +"Labrador anything would interest me!" + +"Over in N'York. Hop into the sub and you're there." + +Peter hopped into the sub and shortly he was there. + +"Labrador Luck," he read from the big posters. "Monster production of +the Tophole Producing Company. Thrilling scenes, thrilling plot, +thrilling drama." + +There was more detail as to the names of the Film Queen who was starred, +and the Film King who supported her, but without stopping to read them +Peter bought a ticket and went in. + +The picture was under way, and as he sank into his seat he saw on the +screen the familiar scenes of the Labrador wild. + +Not quite true to nature were they, this Peter recognized at once, but +he knew they were taken in a studio, not in Labrador itself, and he had +only admiration for the cleverness with which they were done. + +With a little sigh of pleasure he gave himself up to a positive +enjoyment of the landscape, and, as the story went on, he was conscious +of a vaguely familiar strain running through it. + +Suddenly a scene was flashed on, and an episode occurred which was one +of his own invention. + +"Why," he smiled, "that's my very idea! Now how'd they get that? Oh, I +know, of course, such things often occur to various minds without +collusion, but it's sort of queer. If he follows up that lead, it will +be awful queer!" + +The lead was followed up, and, a bit bewildered, Peter sat gazing while +the whole story was unrolled. + +Greatly changed it was, greatly elaborated; the main plot side-tracked +by a counter-plot; the number of characters multiplied by a score; yet, +the mystery interest, the suspense element, the very backbone of the +piece was the plot he and Blair had worked out while up in the Labrador +wild. + +"Labrador Luck!" he mused. "Fine name for it, too. The 'Luck' being that +old heirloom--just as I planned it. Wonder how it all came about?" + +Then he realized how long he'd been away from Blair. How Blair, +doubtless, supposed him dead, and, most naturally, the boy had gone on +with the story, and here was the splendid result. + +He sat through the thing enthralled, and when the finale came, so +exactly as he had planned that smashing great scene, he could have +yelled his applause. But he didn't, he simply sat still in glad +anticipation of seeing it all over again. + +But he was disappointed. It was not a continuous performance--the long +play was a whole evening's entertainment, and opening and closing hours +were like those of a regular theater. + +So Peter determined to come the next night to see it again, and to see +the first part that he had missed. + +"Great old play," he thought, delightedly. "Wonder if Blair put it on +before he died, or if it's posthumous." + +He picked up a stray program as he left the place--he had had none +before--and put it in his pocket to look over at home. + +"At least, I'm not suffering from lack of interests or diversion," he +said, "but, by Jingo, I've just thought of it! What about money! + +"I've enough to hang out at that hotel about a week and that's all. I'll +have to tell Dad I'm here, or get a job or rob a bank. And what can I do +to turn an honest penny? And I can't go to work under an assumed name! +Oh, hang it all, I've got to come to life! Much as I love Dad and much +as I want to save him from all ridicule and disaster about that +abominable book, I've simply got to live my own life! + +"But I won't decide till my cash gets lower than it is now. I'll go a +bit further in my investigations and then we'll see about it." + +Comfortably seated in his room he drew out the program to look over. + +To his unbounded amazement he learned from the title page that the +author of the play and also the producer, or, at least, the president of +the producing company was--Christopher Shelby! + +"Kit! Good old top!" he cried aloud. + +"Oh, I must see him," he thought, "I just must see him! So Kit wrote the +thing--well, I suppose he and Blair did it together-- I recognize Kit's +hand more especially in the producing element--and then, old Gilbert, +bless him, was killed, and Kit went ahead alone-- I can't think Mac +Thorpe did for Gil--oh, I must see _somebody_ or I'll go crazy!" + +And because he was afraid to trust himself to keep away from the +telephone any longer, Peter Boots went to bed. + +The night brought counsel. + +Clarifying his thoughts, Peter tried first to see where his duty lay. + +To his parents, first of all, he decided, for he was a devoted son, and +all his life he had loved and revered both father and mother more than +most boys do. Julie, too, but, so far he had no reason to think she had +any special claim on him. + +Well, then, what did his duty to his parents dictate? + +Common sense said that they would far rather have their son with them +alive than to rest secure in the success of the book his father had +written. + +But the book itself was, to his mind, quite outside the pale of common +sense, and could not be judged by any such standards. + +Certain pages, special paragraphs in that book, stood out in his mind, +and he knew that never had there been such a fiasco as would ensue if +the long lost and deeply mourned hero of it should return! His return in +the spirit was so gloatingly related, so triumphantly averred, that his +return in the flesh would be a terrific anti-climax. + +He remembered the gypsy's prophecy--how it had come true! + +But the return, foretold by the second gypsy, was now verified in the +flesh and put to naught all the fake returns narrated in the book. + +Much stress was laid, in his father's story, on the spiritual return +being what the gypsy meant. Now, Peter had proved that that prophecy +meant, if it meant anything at all, his return in the flesh. + +Anyway, here he was, very much alive, and very uncertain what to do with +his live self. + +Should he go away, out West, or to some distant place and start life +anew, under an assumed name, and leave his father to his delusion? Was +that his duty? + +He was not necessary to his parents, either as a help to their support +or as a comfort to their hearts. + +He did not do them the injustice to think that they had never mourned +for him, or that they had not missed him in the home. All this was fully +and beautifully set forth in the book. + +But they had been compensated by the comfort and enjoyment afforded them +by their _séances_, and by the messages they continually received from +him! + +And he could see no way, try as he would, that he could inform them of +his return without causing them dismay and distress. + +For if they knew him to be alive he must take again his old place in the +home--and then what would his father be? + +A laughing-stock, a crushed and crestfallen victim of the most +despicable sort of fraud! + +It would never do. He couldn't bring positive trouble into his father's +life on the off chance of removing a sorrow, which, though real, was +softened and solaced by the very fraud that he would expose. + +No; the more he thought the more he saw his duty was to eliminate +himself for all time from his home and friends. + +And Carly? + +He tried not to think about her, for his duty must be his paramount +consideration. He would wait a day or so, and then disappear again, and +forever. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +An Interview + + +"Well, Mr. Douglas, what can I do for you?" + +Benjamin Crane spoke cordially, and smiled genially at the young man who +had called on him in his home. + +"You can turn me down, sir, if you like, or, if you'll be so kind, you +can give me a few details of these strange experiences of yours in +occult matters." + +"Are you a reporter?" + +"I am, but also I want to be something more than that. And in this case +I want to write up these things for a special article, and a personal +interview would help a lot." + +"Well, my boy, you impress me pleasantly, and, as I like nothing better +than to talk on my favorite subject, I'll give you a fifteen-minute +chat. More than that I cannot spare time for." + +"Then let's confine our talk to the phase that interests me most. I can +get your beliefs and experiences from your book, you know. And your +personality," Douglas gave him a humorously appraising glance, "I am +gathering as we go along. First, will you tell me your attitude, mental +and spiritual, regarding the loss of your son? I mean, though I fear I +put it crudely, are you entirely reconciled to his death because of the +comfort you receive from his--er--communications and all that?" + +"A difficult question to answer," Crane paused a moment, "but I think I +may say yes. I bow to the will of a Higher Power in the death of my son, +and I am grateful to that same Higher Power for the comfort that is mine +in the communion I have with my boy." + +"Then you do not really grieve over his loss?" + +"Not now--no. At first, of course, both his mother and I were crushed, +but when he came to us, in the spirit, we took heart, and now we are +perfectly satisfied--more than satisfied to accept our life conditions +just as they are." + +"You have frequent communication with the spirit of your departed son?" + +"Almost daily." + +"With the same medium always?" + +"Nowadays, yes. I tried various ones, but I rely on Madame Parlato. She +has had the greatest success, and now can readily get into communication +with my son at almost any time." + +"Excuse me, Mr. Crane, if I am indiscreet, but have you never felt that +she might be--not entirely--honest?" + +Benjamin Crane smiled benignly. "Don't hesitate to put your doubt into +words. I am quite ready to answer that question. I have no doubts of +any sort concerning the medium's honesty, sincerity and genuineness. I +have no doubt that the communications she obtains are really from my son +Peter. That his spirit speaks to me through her. This has been proved to +me in many ways, but a far greater proof is the conviction in my soul of +the reality of it all. My wife believes as implicitly as I do, and no +amount of scoffing from outsiders can in any way shake our faith." + +"You have had material proofs?" + +"Yes; here is a letter from my son himself. Here is a tobacco pouch that +I know was his. Here is his handkerchief." + +With a calm pride Benjamin Crane took these articles from a table drawer +and showed them. + +Douglas was deeply impressed, examined the articles and watched Crane as +he returned them to the drawer. + +"You see," said Crane, "it is not only difficult but impossible to +account for those things except by supernatural explanation, so why +refuse the logical truth?" + +"That's so. And, I understand now, why you are so happy in your beliefs, +for it all gives your life a continual and absorbing interest. You are +writing another book, are you not?" + +"Yes; it contains the detailed account of my _séances_, and will, I +trust, prove an additional source of information and education on the +great subject of survival." + +"And your daughter? Does she, too, subscribe to all your theories?" + +"Almost entirely. She is not so absorbed in the subject as Mrs. Crane +and myself, but she has become persuaded of many truths." + +"And now, my time is nearly up, may I ask you a word regarding the Blair +case. Do you think McClellan Thorpe is the guilty man?" + +"No! a thousand times no! I am trying by every means in my power to +prove that he isn't. I hope to succeed, too. But we mustn't go into that +subject, as I have an important appointment to keep. Come to see me +again, Mr. Douglas, if you like. I'm not unaccustomed to such calls, and +I'll be glad to see you again. By appointment, though, for I'm a busy +man." + +Tom Douglas went back, over to Brooklyn, and, going to a hotel, asked +for one John Harrison. + +In a short time Peter Boots was eagerly listening to the report of the +messenger he had sent to his father. + +"I learned a lot, Mr. Harrison," the visitor began. "I think I can give +you quite a bit of the local color you need for your novel." + +"Not so much local color as mental attitude," Peter returned. "You see, +in writing a psychological novel the author has to be careful of shades +of feeling in his delineation of the characters. And as this Mr. Crane +seemed to be just the type I want to study, I'm glad to have you tell me +all the things he said, as nearly as you can recollect his own +language." + +"Yes, I know. And I was mighty interested on my own account, too." + +"He was willing you should write an article about him?" + +"Oh, yes, and asked me to come again." + +"Go on, tell me all he said--how he looked and acted and everything that +happened." + +And so the young reporter and free-lance writer told Peter Boots all +about his father, under the impression that he was talking to one who +had never seen Benjamin Crane. + +"He's a wonderful man, Mr. Harrison," the other said, enthusiastically. +"He must be fifty-five at least, maybe more, but he's so alert and +quick-witted, and so full of his subject, that he seems a much younger +man." + +"And he seems happy?" + +"Happy! I should say so! Perfectly reconciled to his son's death, +because of these communications he gets from him! I say, Mr. Harrison, I +can't stand for it! It gets me to see how that man is gulled, and he +such a clear-headed, sane sort! Had proofs, too--all sorts of things. Do +you believe it, Mr. Harrison? Do you believe that the spirit of Mr. +Crane's dead son talks to him through a medium?" + +"I do not," said Peter Crane, endeavoring not to speak too emphatically. +"I didn't want you to get that interview in the interests of Spiritism +at all, but to tell me of the condition, mentally and physically, of Mr. +Crane." + +"Yes, I know. Well, the old guy is O.K. physically, fit as a fiddle. And +sound mentally, you bet, except that he's nutty on the supernatural. +Why, he showed me the tobacco pouch--you know he tells about that in his +book----" + +Peter nodded. + +"Showed me, too, a handkerchief of his dead son's----" + +"That's not so remarkable." + +"Yes, it is; 'cause it's one of a set that the chap took away with him, +embroidered by his best girl, I believe." + +Peter started. One of those handkerchiefs Carly gave him! Where in the +world could that fool medium have got hold of that? + +"Also a note from son, in his own handwriting," Douglas went on. + +"Did you see it?" + +"Yep. Commonplace looking note, advising his sister to drop acquaintance +with Thorpe--he's the man they arrested in the Blair case." + +"Where did the note come from?" + +"Materialized--out of thin air." + +"At a _séance_?" + +"No; the brother kindly left it on sister's bureau, I believe." + +Peter Crane was bewildered indeed. What sort of performances were going +on, anyhow. And who was at the bottom of all this? + +Clearly, he must look into things a little more before he did his final +disappearance! + +"Well, Mr. Douglas, you've helped me a whole lot. Now, as I say, I want +mental impressions. Tell me everything you can think of about the +atmosphere of the whole house, the--did you see Mrs. Crane?" + +"No, only the old man. There seemed to be quite a lot of people about, +coming and going. We had our interview in Mr. Crane's study, or +library----" + +"I know, the small room at the back of the house----" + +"Been there?" Douglas looked up quickly. + +"Read of it in the book," said Peter, quietly, annoyed at himself for +the slip. + +"Yes. Well, there's a table in the middle of the room, and in the drawer +of that table Mr. Crane keeps all the things' materialized by the +medium. I think he expects to get a big collection." + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned Peter, "_what_ a mess!" + +"Yes, isn't it?" Douglas assumed that the whole subject of Spiritism was +thus referred to. + +"Suppose anything happened to shake Mr. Crane's faith?" + +"I don't think anything _could_ do that. He's absolutely gullible. He'd +swallow anything. I say, how _do_ you explain it? Why is it that +big-brained, well-balanced men fall for this rot?" + +"They can't be really well-balanced,--and then, too, it's largely the +eagerness to believe, the desire for the comfort it brings them that +makes them think they do believe. And a clever medium can do much." + +"Sure. But those materializations! Where'd she get the goods?" + +"Give it up. Tell me more about Mr. Crane." + +So Douglas patiently recounted and repeated all the words of Peter's +father and told of his appearance and manner, under the impression that +he was helping an author with data for a psychological story. + +Peter had found Douglas by merely making inquiry for a bright young +reporter, and had made an agreement, satisfactory to both, for him to +try to get the interview with Benjamin Crane, and they would both profit +by it. + +He was delighted that Crane had asked the young man to call again, and +when they parted it was with the understanding that there should be +another interview arranged. + +Peter Boots had much food for thought. + +He sat thinking for hours after the food had been given to him. + +What was the explanation? What _could_ be the explanation? + +How could communications from a dead man be received when the man was +not dead? + +How he longed to go home, disclose himself, and run to earth that +fearful fraud! How gladly he would do so, except that it would ruin his +father's reputation. What would the public think of a man who had been +so taken in by fraud, and had blazoned it to the world. + +To be sure it was no reflection on Benjamin Crane's sincerity, yet he +would be the butt of derision for the whole country, and his discredited +head would be bowed for the rest of his life. + +Peter couldn't bring himself to do that, especially now that he had +discovered that his loss was not a source of hopeless grief to his +parents. + +"I'm not wanted in this world," he told himself, sadly, "I'm a +superfluous man. I've got to dispose of myself somehow," and he gave a +very realizing sigh. + +And the thought of Carly,--that tried to obtrude itself, he put +resolutely from him. + +"She's probably forgotten me," he assured himself, "and anyway I must do +the right thing by Mother and Dad first. If I decide that I can't +demolish their air castle, so carefully built up, I must light +out,--that's all." + +Trying hard to be cheerful, but feeling very blue and desolate he ate a +solitary dinner and went again to the theater to see "Labrador Luck." + +Douglas' graphic description of his home and his father had given him a +great longing to go there, to see the dear old place, the dear old +man,--and his mother, and Julie. + +He felt he _must_ go. Then, he knew he couldn't go, without breaking his +father's heart and life. + +"I broke his heart when I _didn't_ go home," he thought whimsically, +"now, I mustn't break it again by going home!" + +He sat through the moving picture performance again, and marveled anew +at the beauty of the production. It was far above the rank and file of +moving pictures, it was adjudged by all critics the very greatest +production ever put upon the screen. + +Shelby's name had become famous, his work was applauded everywhere, and +Peter yearned to see him and renew their friendship. + +But he knew he mustn't think of those things. First of all he had to +decide whether or not he was to come back to life, and if not,--and he +had a conviction that that would be his decision,--he must not dally +with tempting thoughts and hopes of any sort. + +But it was hard! Blair dead, Shelby famous, and he, Peter, unable to +talk things over with any relative, chum or friend. + +He must talk to somebody, and on his way out of the theater he spoke to +the box office man. + +"Wonderful show," he said, smiling at him. "Who's this Shelby?" + +"He's the big push of to-day," was the enthusiastic reply. "He's a +marvel of efficiency and generalship. And a big author, too." + +"He wrote the play as well as produced it, I see." + +"Yes. Oh, he can do anything." + +"Married man?" + +"No; but I've heard he's engaged to a girl,--a Miss Harper, I believe." + +Peter choked. The last straw! But he might have known,--he, himself, +supposed dead, Blair dead, what more natural than that Carly should turn +to old Kit? + +With a mere nod to the man who had unwittingly dealt him this final +blow, Peter walked out into the night. + +And he walked and walked. Up Broadway to the Circle, on up and into +Riverside Drive, and along the Hudson as far as he could go. + +Thinking deeply, planning desperately, only to be confronted with the +awful picture of his father's consternation at the shattering of his +beliefs and the collapse of his celebrity. + +At times he would tell himself he was absurdly apprehensive, that any +parents would rather have their lost son restored than to have the +applause and notoriety of public fame. And, then, he would realize that +while that might be generally true, yet this was a peculiar case. His +father was a proud, sensitive nature. Perhaps--Peter shuddered,--perhaps +he wouldn't love a son who by his return made him the most laughed at +man in the whole world! + +Peter longed to go to some one for advice. Shelby, now,--his big +efficient mind would know at once what was best to do. + +But he couldn't disclose himself to Kit and not to any one else. Kit +couldn't keep that a secret, even if he wanted to do so. + +And-- Kit was engaged to Carly! He never wanted to see either of them +again! + +Poor, lonely, troubled Peter. Only one plain, sure truth abided. He +_must_ do his duty, and he felt pretty sure he knew what that duty was. +It was to stay out of the life he had lost. + +There was no other possible course. + +He turned and retraced his steps southward, and finally went across +town, drawn as by a magnet to his own home. + +Home! What a mockery the word was! + +It was two o'clock in the morning now; he had been walking or sitting on +a Drive bench for hours. + +He was not conscious of fatigue, he only wanted to see his old home and +then go away forever. He didn't plan his future. He was sure he could +make a living easily enough, he felt he could build up a new life for +himself over a new name. But oh, how he longed for the old life! + +He stood in front of the house and stared at it. + +He walked round and round the block it was on, pausing each time he +passed the front door, and walking on, if there chanced to be a +passer-by. + +At last, he concluded to give up the painful pleasure of gazing at the +closed windows and go back to Brooklyn. + +His gaze traveled over the windows at the various rooms,--how well he +knew what they all were,--and at last he found himself looking at the +front door. How often he had let himself in with his latchkey. + +Involuntarily his hand went to his pocket, where that latchkey even now +was,--and hardly knowing what he was doing, he had the key in his hand +and was mounting the steps of his old home. + +Still as one in a daze, and with no intention of making his presence +known, but with an uncontrollable desire to see for the last time those +dear rooms, he silently fitted the key into place. + +Noiselessly he turned it and pushed the door open. + +The house was still, there were no lights on, save a low glimmer in the +front hall. + +He remembered that had always been left on. + +But the street lights faintly illumined the living-room, and he went in. +With a wave of desperate homesickness he threw himself on the big +davenport and buried his face into a pile of cushions. + +He couldn't go away,--he _couldn't_. + +But--he must! + +And so, he forced himself to put aside his emotion, he bravely fought +down his nostalgia, and promising himself one look into his father's +study he vowed to go directly after. + +He stepped into the little room where Douglas had been received. He +couldn't resist the temptation to look about it, and, cautiously he +snapped on the desk light. + +There was the table with the drawer in it. + +Carefully, Peter opened the drawer and saw for himself the tobacco +pouch, the handkerchief, and the letter, signed "Peter." + +He stared at it, amazed at the similarity to his own penmanship. + +"I'd like to stay, if only to ferret out the mystery of this rascally +fake!" he thought "But--oh, hang it! this rascally fake is the very +breath of life to Dad and Mother. No, Peter Boots, it can't be done! +You're out of it all and out of it all you must stay. Clear out of here +now, before you get in any deeper." + +He fingered the old tobacco pouch. + +"Heavens and earth!" he exclaimed to himself, as a sudden thought struck +him. "That's so!" + +Again he took up the letter, looking closely at the formation of the +words, studying the tenor of the message, and then, with a sigh, laid +all back in the drawer and gently closed it. + +"That way madness lies," he told himself, and turned to leave the room +and the house. + +As he reached for the light switch, a small hand laid on his own +detained him. + +Startled, he looked up and saw a witch-like, eerie face smiling at him. + +"Must you go?" whispered a mocking voice, and Peter Boots, for once in +his life was absolutely stricken dumb. + +Who or what was this sprite, this Brownie? What was she doing in his +father's house? Were materialized spirits really inhabiting the place? + +"Hush!" Zizi warned him, "don't speak above a whisper. Are you a +burglar?" + +Peter shook his head, unable to repress a smile, and his smile made the +same impression on Zizi that it had always made on everybody,--that of +absolute pleasure. + +"Who are you?" she asked, scarce breathing the words. + +"John Harrison," he returned, still smiling. "I'll go now, please." + +"Without further explanation?" + +"Yes, please." + +"All right, I'll let you out. I know all about you. You sent a chap here +to interview Mr. Crane,--and you're getting follow-up literature." + +"Right! Good night." + +And with a swiftness and silence born of the dire necessity of the +moment, Peter went to the front door, out of it and down the street in +record time. + +He turned the first corner, and walked rapidly many blocks, before +turning to see if he were followed. + +He was not, and he went on his way to Brooklyn, his life tragedy still +ahead of him, but relieved by the touch of comedy added by that +mysterious and wonderfully attractive girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Zizi's Opportunity + + +The Blair case had come to a standstill. Although the police were still +making investigations, they were fairly well satisfied that Thorpe was +the guilty man and since he was jailed and awaiting trial, they rested +on their laurels. + +Pennington Wise was by no means sure of Thorpe's guilt, and Zizi was +certain of his innocence, but though these two were working hard, as yet +they had found no other definite suspect. + +"But you must, Zizi," wailed Julie. "You know as well as I do that Mac +never killed Gilbert. Now, find out who did!" + +Wise confessed himself baffled, but asked for a little more time before +admitting himself vanquished. + +"You see, Ziz," he said to his astute young helper, "there are so many +interesting side issues, that we get off the main track. I own up I'm +quite as much absorbed in this Spiritism racket as I am in the murder +case." + +"That's the trouble, Penny," Zizi returned, gravely. "You're scattering +your energies. And it won't do. You've got to concentrate on the Blair +murder. And you've got to get at it from a different angle. Suppose you +take a run out West and see that mother and sister. They may give you a +line on things." + +"I've been thinking I'd do that. There must be something in Blair's past +that can be unearthed and may prove enlightening. I could do it in a +week, and it might be time well spent." + +"Of course it would. And, truly, there's no way to look, here. I've +thought and thought but we've no hint or clew pointing to any one but +Thorpe,--and, it wasn't Thorpe." + +Then Zizi told him of the strange man she had seen in the Crane library +the night before. + +"And you let him get away! Why, Zizi?" + +"He was no burglar. I saw that. There was no use in alarming the house. +He was----" + +"Well?" + +"Oh, I knew at once who he was. He was the John Harrison who sent that +Douglas person here to interview Mr. Crane." + +"Well, is he to be allowed to walk in and out as he chooses! How did he +get in?" + +"I don't know, but I hope he'll come again. I like him. Why, Penny, he's +a gentleman." + +"But who is he? What's he up to?" + +"He didn't confide in me, but I know. He's the medium's agent. He comes +here and gets data and information and tells her and she works it off +on the Cranes. I saw through that at once. He must have a key and he +just walks in and helps himself, you see." + +"Absurd!" + +"Maybe; but that's what he does, all the same." + +"And he told you his name!" + +"Yes; but that's nothing. He'll have another name and another home +before night. These mediums resort to the strangest tricks to get their +stuff! Why, Penny, he was prowling in that drawer where the tobacco +pouch is, and I think he meant to take it away so they could +'materialize' it over again. I'm going to watch for him nights. He'll +come again." + +But Zizi was mistaken. John Harrison did not come again, though the girl +was alert to welcome him. + +Pennington Wise went West, to see the relatives of Blair, for it had +frequently been his experience that such inquiries into a man's early +life brought about useful knowledge. + +This left Zizi in a position of responsibility, to keep watch of +developments and to learn what she could from them. + +She was not so sure as Julie of Thorpe's innocence, but she meant to +find another suspect if one could be found, and she redoubled her +efforts. + +Zizi had become a welcome guest in the Thorpe household, and they all +admired and loved her. A most adaptable little piece, she fitted into +the family as if she belonged there, and she and Julie were warm +friends. + +She said nothing of the midnight intruder, being determined in her own +mind, that he was an emissary from the medium, Madame Parlato, whom Zizi +regarded as an absolute fake. To prove this was a desire of Zizi's mind +as well as to solve the mystery of the Blair murder. + +But her fondness for the Cranes was such, that she was not sure she +should expose the medium's trickery, even if she discovered it herself. +So she went on with her secret investigations, and at present they +included an inquiry into the matter of that reporter's visit and John +Harrison's appearance on the scene. + +Zizi had, of course, read Benjamin Crane's book, and in it had seen the +picture of Peter, but the portrait was so different in effect from the +bearded man whom she saw but indistinctly by the dim light in the +library that she never connected the two in her thoughts. + +But she thoroughly believed that the man in the library had come there +for the purpose of acquiring either information or materials for further +manifestations of the medium. She was sure that the tobacco pouch and +the handkerchief which had been "materialized" had been obtained in this +way and, she argued, the best way to find out, was to remain silent as +to John Harrison's call. + +When told by Mr. Crane of the visit of Douglas, the reporter, Zizi had +suspected something beneath the surface,--it did not seem plausible to +her, that the case was just as it was stated. + +And somehow, in the back of her astute little brain, she had a notion +that the Blair murder and the supernatural manifestations were in some +way connected, at least, indirectly. + +So she was merely receptive, and put herself in the way of learning all +she could of the medium's affairs without showing her own hand. She +obtained a detailed account of the _séances_ from the elder Cranes, and +each time she became not only more convinced of the medium's fraud, but +sure that the faker, more and more secure in her clients' credulity, was +growing both daring and careless. + +This, Zizi concluded, was her opportunity, and she hoped to profit by +her knowledge of the visit of John Harrison. + + * * * * * + +And meantime, the so-called John Harrison, whom Zizi had sized up so +mistakenly, was puzzling his head over the identity of the girl who had +seen him. + +He was not alarmed by fear of discovery, for he could change his name +and address at will, but he was piqued by the saucy announcement that +she knew all about him, and amazed at her knowledge that he had sent +Douglas to see Benjamin Crane. + +Moreover, the sight of that familiar old tobacco pouch of his own had +stirred him, and some logical deductions that followed in its train +caused him to reconsider his decision to disappear at once. + +"But I got to have some money," he reasoned, "and I think I know how to +get it!" + +As a matter of fact, he did. He had in his mind a plot for a moving +picture, which he had long cherished and thought over, but which he had +never put on paper. The success of Shelby's great picture put it in his +mind to try to sell his own. He was tempted to take it to the Shelby +corporation but knowing it wiser, he went to a rival company. + +As his plot was new, original and decidedly meritorious, he had no +trouble in finding a market. He learned that he could sell merely his +plot, that the "continuity" work would be done by their own people; and +delighted to receive a most satisfactory lump sum, John Harrison gave +his name as Louis Bartram, and removed to another hotel, where he +registered under his new name. + +For Peter Crane had resolved to do a little investigating on his own +hook, and he realized that since the girl at his home knew his present +cognomen it must be changed. + +Louis Bartram, therefore, sent for Douglas, and took that mystified +young man into his confidence to a degree. + +"It's this way, Douglas," he said, "I give you my word I'm straight and +all right, but I'm unraveling a mystery, and I'm incog for the present." + +Now nobody could look into Peter Crane's blue eyes and doubt his +veracity, and Douglas believed exactly what was told him. + +"Can I help?" he said, simply, and Louis Bartram told him he could. + +Wherefore, Bartram expeditiously acquired such information as he needed, +and the first item was the name and address of the medium who was +responsible for the _séances_ detailed in Benjamin Crane's famous book. + +And then to the house of Madame Parlato, Louis Bartram went, having made +an appointment through the useful Douglas. + +The madame's quick glance of inquiry was satisfied and her ever-ready +suspicions lulled by her first glance into Peter's eyes. It was +impossible to distrust that frank gaze, and though Peter was an +unbeliever in her and all her works, yet his cause was honest and +sincere and he met her on her own ground. + +"You want a _séance_?" the occult lady inquired. + +"No, Madame Parlato," Peter returned, quietly, "I want to bribe you to +undertake a commission for me." + +"Wh--what!" she cried, turning white and quite losing her poise at his +astonishing remark. + +"Now, let's cut out all that," Peter went on, practically, "let's assume +that we've thrashed it all out, and agreed that you're one of the +cleverest of your sort and can fool the gullible ones very neatly. But, +let's also assume that when one who knows comes along that you will +meet him halfway, and at least, listen to his proposition." + +"But, this,--this is outrageous----" + +"Not at all. You see, I know of the faking you have done,--and are +doing,--in the Crane matter." + +"Oh,--ah----" Madame cautiously awaited further speech from her +attractive but unusual caller. + +"Yes,--and," here Peter made a bold stroke, "I know who is giving you +things to 'materialize,' and why, and I want to know how much you are +being paid, in order that I may offer you more to follow my directions." + +"I do not acknowledge that you are right----" she began, but Peter +interrupted: + +"You needn't; your expression, your countenance tells me all I want of +acknowledgment. Now, listen to reason. I only want one _séance_, +conducted according to my orders, and I'll pay you what you demand. Your +other patron needn't know anything about my hand in the matter." + +"I refuse your requests, sir. I resent your accusations, and unless you +leave here at once, I shall call----" + +"Oh, no, you won't call the police, or any one else. You would greatly +object to an investigation of your place here, and you and I know why. +You'll do much better, madame, to listen to my proposition, and accept +it. You see,-- I _know_!" + +The mysterious tone Peter used seemed to carry conviction, and with a +little shudder, Madame Parlato gave in. + +"What do you want?" she asked, tremulously; "what do you intend to do?" + +"I intend to do a great many things," Peter replied, gravely, "but I +want very little. Only that you shall conduct a _séance_, at the time I +set and entirely in accordance with my orders." + +"And if I refuse?" + +"Then I shall feel it my duty to expose you as a fraud and a charlatan." + +The woman winced at these words, but meeting Peter's steely gaze and +realizing his power over her, she said: + +"First, tell me who you are." + +"I am Louis Bartram," he said, "you know that already. For the rest, I +am an investigator of psychic conditions and a student of the occult, +along certain definite lines. You will find it to your best advantage, +Madame, to be perfectly frank and truthful with me. Any other course you +will find most disastrous." + +"Are you--are you of the----" + +"Of the police? No, this is not an official investigation. And, +moreover, it all depends on yourself whether the results of our work +together are ever made public or not. Now, answer my questions. How did +you come to give these _séances_ to the Cranes?" + +"Mr. Crane came and asked me to." + +"Where had he heard of you?" + +"I was recommended to him by some friends of his." + +"Did you ever know his son, Peter?" + +"No; I never heard of him until Mr. Crane came here." + +"And then you immediately got into spiritual communication with the dead +man?" + +"Yes; that is my business." + +She spoke a little defiantly, and Peter smiled. "I know. I accept that. +Now, I'm a friend of the Cranes, because of having read that book. A man +who is so absolutely positive of his beliefs is too good and dear a man +to be disturbed in his enjoyment of them." + +"Oh, Mr. Bartram, I'm glad you see it that way, too! Truly, I've come to +love the Cranes, and if--if I help along a little, it is largely for the +comfort and happiness it gives them." + +"I know,-- I see; and I realize what an awful thing it would be if the +world were to learn that all the matter in his book is really false----" + +"Oh, it would kill him! If you knew Mr. Crane, if you knew how his very +life is bound up in this matter, you would be even more assured what a +disaster it would be to have him in any way discredited!" + +Peter's heart fell at this, for he had a half hope that he could yet +bring himself to demolish his father's air castle. + +"Well, then," he said, slowly, "I'll not discredit him, nor you, for, of +course, one involves the other. But this, on condition that you obey my +commands implicitly in this matter of a _séance_. If you fail me in one +particular, if you disobey one tiny detail, or, if you so much as hint a +word to your--your other employer,--I mean the one who has bribed you to +certain frauds,--then, I shall show you up, even if it does distress Mr. +and Mrs. Crane." + +Madame Parlato thought in silence for a moment. Then she said, astutely, +"I don't know who you are, Mr. Bartram, but I am quite certain you are +something more than you wish to tell. I mean a bigger factor in the +Crane affair than you admit. I ask no questions, I agree to your terms, +and I will do exactly as you direct, relying on your promise that if I +do so, you will not tell of any--any insincerity you may notice." + +"Wait a moment,--that promise may lead to complications. If the result +of my proposed procedure is to reveal your--er,--insincerity--I cannot +be responsible for the consequences. Those you will have to bear. But I +will admit that my interests are those of Benjamin Crane, and I shall do +all in my power to preserve his secrets and, thereby, yours." + +"I think, then, you may go ahead and tell me your plans that you wish me +to carry out." + +"I've revised them,'" Peter said, thoughtfully, "they may, as I now see +it, call for more than one _séance_. But here's for a starter. When do +you expect Mr. Crane again?" + +"To-morrow." + +"All right. Merely give him a further materialization. And let the +object be this,"--he laid a small paper parcel before her, which he had +taken from his pocket,--"yes,--and this," and he produced a second +parcel. + +She opened the papers, and found the first to be a handkerchief, the +duplicate of the one already "materialized" and bearing the monogram +Carly had so painstakingly embroidered. + +The other parcel contained a silver quarter of a dollar, one side of +which had been smoothed off and engraved with the entwined letters P. C. + +"These belonged to the son?" Madame exclaimed, excitedly. "Where did you +get them?" + +"From the son," replied Louis Bartram; "but remember you are under oath +of secrecy. You are merely to produce these things as materializations +at your next session with Mr. Crane, and also,--I want to be +present,--unseen. Can it be managed?" + +"Of course, that's easy enough." + +Further arrangements were made, terms were agreed on, and Louis Bartram +went away from the house of the medium in New York and returned to his +hotel in Brooklyn. + +And as he came down the steps of the Parlato residence, a small, dark +girl, who was walking by, quickly scuttled around a corner, and out of +his line of vision. + +"I knew it!" Zizi said to herself, exultantly, "he's in cahoots with the +spook woman! He's been there to give her things to materialize and soon +I'll hear of them! He came to the house and stole something which she +will use to fool poor old Mr. Crane. You'll see!" + +Zizi talked enthusiastically to herself, resolving to learn more of this +attractive young man's identity. + +"Clever, wasn't he?" she asked of herself, "to send that reporter around +first,--probably he stole a key to the house,--oh, it's a whole big +organization, I suppose, and they cover their tracks so completely +they're not even suspected." + +Acting on an impulse, she turned and went back to the house of the +medium. By strategy, she succeeded in getting an interview, although she +had no appointment. + +"I have come to warn you," she said, without preamble, looking into the +woman's eyes, "I am a detective, and I am onto your game. I know that +man who just left here, he is your tool, your accomplice. Also, I know +that he stole some things from the Crane house that you intend to use in +your so-called materializations. Now, I warn you that if you do that, I +shall see to it that your deceit is shown up, your fraud exposed!" + +"My Lord," cried the puzzled Madame, "who are you? Why do you think that +man is my accomplice? It is not so! I never laid eyes on him until this +morning!" + +"That is not true," Zizi said, sure of her ground, and wondering why the +medium looked so unfeignedly puzzled. "He works for you----" + +"He does not! He is a client. Now you leave, or I'll have you put out." + +"I am going to leave," and Zizi rose, "but you remember what I said. If +you show up any more materialized belongings of Mr. Crane's dead son, +I'll have you exposed and arrested!" + +It is doubtful which of the two was more perplexed by this conversation. + +Zizi, with her quick reading of human nature, saw that Madame Parlato +was truly surprised at the girl's accusation of an accomplice, +therefore, she decided, he could not be an accomplice, after all. And if +not, what was he, and what was he doing at the medium's house? + +That he was a client, she did not believe, for had she not seen him, +rummaging in the Crane library and in that table drawer? It was all most +mysterious and Zizi determined to stick to this new mystery in hopes it +would shed some light on the old ones. + +Meanwhile Madame Parlato was absolutely bewildered. Who was this strange +girl who had come flying in with an incredible tale about the new +client being an accomplice of her own? + +Nor did that question trouble her so much as the consideration of what +she should do next? She had arranged to have Mr. Crane at a _séance_ the +next evening, and to have Mr. Louis Bartram concealed in an adjoining +room, where he could see and hear without being discovered. + +Now, if she failed to use the objects he had directed her to use she +feared his ire and vengeance, while if she did use them, this awful +child, who called herself a detective, threatened exposure! + +To be sure, she told herself, that little scrap of humanity couldn't be +a detective, the thought was impossible. Yet the child's words and tones +had carried conviction. Indeed, she was no child, though small enough to +be one. She was either a detective, the Madame finally decided, or, she +was a fake medium herself, and had some unknown ax to grind. + +In any case, the way of the transgressor was hard, and the occult lady +thought a long time before she came to a decision. + +But the conclusion she reached was to obey the orders of Louis Bartram. +He was a far more formidable antagonist, there must be more real danger +in disobeying him than that chit of a girl. + +So Madame laid her plans, prepared her properties, and, with fear in her +heart, arranged for the forthcoming _séance_. + +And Zizi, worried and uncertain, in Wise's absence, as to just what she +should do, laid her plans to be present also at Benjamin Crane's next +session with the medium. + +And Peter Boots, communing with himself, and rapidly getting more and +more excited at his discoveries and the developments of his theories, +impatiently awaited the hour when he should see his father and perhaps +his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The Heart Helper + + +Never during her association with Wise, had Zizi wanted him so much as +she did at present. The situation, she felt, was too big for her to +handle, and the contradictory conclusions forced upon her bewildered +her. + +Public interest in the Blair murder had waned, or at least it was +waiting for the trial of McClellan Thorpe, and while the police were +ready to listen to any new evidence or theories, none seemed to be +forthcoming. + +Julie was in despair, feeling that the great Pennington Wise was making +no headway in his endeavors to free Thorpe, and Benjamin Crane too was +beginning to doubt Wise's ability. + +Zizi, therefore, felt the brunt of upholding her colleague's reputation +for cleverness and success, and now that things were getting so +complicated, and Penny Wise so far away, the girl felt her +responsibility almost greater than she could bear. + +But, she concluded, after deep thought, the first and most important +thing to be done was to locate that John Harrison. + +From Benjamin Crane she obtained the address of young Douglas, the +reporter, and went to see him. + +Douglas was greatly pleased with the appearance and manner of his +visitor, for Zizi was at her sparkling best, and that was very good +indeed. + +"You see, Mr. Douglas," she confided with a captivating smile, "I'm a +Heart Helper." + +"A what?" + +"Yes. I help people's hearts,--people who are sad or in trouble. Now, +I'm working in the interests of a dear friend, a lovely girl, whose +sweetheart is being most unjustly treated, and only I can set things +straight. Think of that!" + +The great dark eyes flashed an appealing glance at him, and Zizi's red +mouth took a sorrowful droop at the corners. + +Instinctively he yearned to bring back the smile and he said, promptly, +"Can I help you? Is that why you come to me?" + +"Exactly," and Zizi beamed at him, quite completing his undoing. + +"And what I want," she went on quickly, lest she lose her +suddenly-acquired power over him, "is only the address of Mr. John +Harrison." + +Douglas's face fell, and he plainly showed his embarrassment and +chagrin. + +"That I can't tell you," he began,--but paused at the look of despair +that came to Zizi's expressive face. + +"Oh, please," she begged. "It's so necessary,--so important. I won't +make any wrong use of the information. Please tell me." + +"But I can't, Miss Zizi. You see, Mr.--Harrison isn't where he was. +He--he isn't anywhere." + +Clearly, Douglas thought, he was making a mess of things. But what could +he say? + +"Are you making game of me?" Zizi's tone was wistful, and with her head +cocked to one side like an alert bird, she waited breathlessly for his +answer. + +"No, not a bit of it!" + +"But--you say--he isn't anywhere! What do you mean?" + +Still under the spell of her smile, her fascinating manner, and her +sweet, piquant little face, Douglas hesitated,--and was lost. + +"Well, you see, he,--he was somebody else. I mean he isn't,--that is, he +isn't himself." + +"Are you sure you are?" Zizi laughed outright, so infectiously, that +Douglas joined in. + +"No, I'm not!" he admitted. "Now, if you're not, either, we're all in +the same boat." + +But Zizi was not to be put off with foolery. + +"Mr. Douglas," she said, seriously, "truly, I'm on an important errand, +and one involving grave consequences. You can help greatly by giving me +that man's address, and help not only the girl of whom I spoke, but help +the cause of right and justice, even, perhaps, in a matter of life and +death. Don't refuse----" + +"But if I don't refuse, I must at least inquire. And, suppose I tell you +that Mr. Harrison does not want his address known?" + +"I assumed that. But, suppose I tell you that it may help to clear up +one of the greatest mysteries of the day if you will just give me a hint +where I can find that man. And, even though he has forbidden you to +tell, I think I can assure you that he won't mind my knowing the secret, +and if he does mind I'll persuade him to exonerate you." + +Zizi had meant to take quite a different tack,--use hints of legal +authority or suggest his duty to humanity, but intuition told her that +this man was best persuaded by coaxing,--and Zizi could coax! + +She succeeded only partly. After she convinced Douglas of the wisdom of +such a course he told her that John Harrison had been at the Hotel +Consul in Brooklyn, but had left there, and had left no further address. + +Moreover, he declared he had no knowledge whatever of the whereabouts of +John Harrison at the present time. + +"No!" and Zizi flashed a quizzical smile, "because he has changed his +name! I know that from your emphatic declaration! But I'll find him. +Good-by." + +Zizi betook herself forthwith to the Hotel Consul. + +A polite clerk informed her that Mr. Harrison had checked out, leaving +no address. + +Determinedly she interviewed the cab drivers ranked in front of the +hotel, and by a lucky chance found the one who had driven Mr. Harrison +away. A proper bribe brought the knowledge that he had been driven to +the Wilfer, a much smaller hotel nearby. + +To the Hotel Wilfer Zizi went, and learned there was no John Harrison +there, but a very few inquiries proved to her astute intellect that the +Louis Bartram, who was the only guest registered at that time on that +afternoon, was in all probability the man she sought. At any rate there +was no harm in trying. + +She asked for an interview, and was connected with Mr. Bartram's rooms +by telephone. + +"I want to see you again," she said, in response to his Hello,--"Let me +come up, Mr. Midnight Visitor, please." + +Partly the pleading voice, partly the fact that Peter was eager for new +developments in his devious course, and partly a sudden recollection of +the girl he had seen in his father's library, brought about a cordial +invitation to "come along." + +And Zizi exultantly went, hoping against hope that she was on her way to +learn something of real importance. + +For so many hopeful openings had proved blind alleys, so many bright +prospects of success had dimmed on nearer view, that Zizi had begun to +lose heart, and this seemed to her perhaps a last chance. + +Peter received her in his sitting room, and as the big dark eyes looked +deep into the chicory blue ones, and both smiled, it was impossible to +be formal. + +"Why are you a burglar, Mr. Bartram," Zizi said, as she seated herself +sociably in the depths of a big armchair. "You don't look the part a +bit." + +"What is _your_ calling?" he countered; "for unless it is that of a +witch or Brownie, I'm sure _you_ don't look it." + +"I am all of those things," she announced, calmly, crossing her dainty +feet and gazing guilelessly at him. "I'm a witch, a Brownie, a sprite, +an elf, a kobold, a pixie----" + +"That's enough. They're all tarred with the same brush. And why am I +favored with this angel visit?" + +"So you may answer my question, which you so rudely ignored. Why are you +a burglar?" + +"But I'm not. Can your ingenuity suggest no explanation of a man's +presence in another man's house at midnight save a burglarious motive? I +took no jewels nor plate away with me." + +"So you didn't. But, I admit motives seem scarce. You were not intending +a social call, were you? You didn't come to read the meter or repair the +plumbing? You were not seeking a lodging for the night?" + +"None of those, Miss Brownie. But, why am I obliged to tell?" + +"Because I ask it," and Zizi's pretty powers of coaxing were put to the +utmost test. + +"I admit that constitutes an obligation, but, I am not going to meet +it," and the big man settled back comfortably in his chair and smiled +benignly but a trifle exasperatingly. + +"Then,--" and the little brown face became serious, the merry light went +out of the dark eyes, and Zizi said, coldly, "Then I will tell you. You +are a burglar,--you did take valuables from Mr. Crane's house,--at least +they were valuable to you, though perhaps of small intrinsic worth." + +"Whatever _do_ you mean?" + +"I mean that you are the accomplice of that woman who calls herself a +medium,--that woman who is a fraud, a fake, a miserable charlatan! You +came to the house to get some more belongings of Mr. Crane's dead +son's,--in order to take them to the Parlato woman and let her trade +further on an old man's credulity! That's what you were there for!" + +Zizi's nerves were at high tension. She thoroughly believed every word +she said, and she felt that perhaps the best way to make this man own up +was to put the case thus straightforwardly. + +Peter Boots looked at her, his expression changing from amazement to +amusement and then to sympathy. + +"No," he said gently, "I didn't do that. I swear I didn't." + +"Then why were you there?" + +Uncertain what to say, Peter just sat and looked at her. + +And somehow,--by some subtle intelligence or telepathic flash--all of a +sudden,--Zizi knew! + +"Oh," she breathed, her eyes like stars, "oh,--you're Peter Boots!" + +Slowly, Peter nodded his head. + +"Yes," he said, "I am. Now, what are we going to do about it?" + +"Do about it? Why, everything! Oh,--wait a minute,--let me take it +in,--let me think what it will mean----" + +"To father? Yes, I know." + +These two, so lately strangers, were immediately at one. Zizi, with her +instantaneous understanding and quick appreciation saw the whole +situation at once, and realized fully its tragedy. + +"It can't be, you know," she cried out; "it mustn't be! Think of +the----" + +"I know," returned Peter, "I've thought." + +Instead of being appalled at the knowledge that his secret was out, +Peter felt a positive relief, a sudden let-down of his strained nerves, +and a queer sensation of confidence in this strange girl's powers to set +things right. + +Peter's intuitions were quick and true; Zizi was not only charming, but +gave an effect of capability and efficiency that were as balm and +comfort to poor, harassed Peter. + +He was willing to nail his colors to her mast; to give his affairs and +perplexities into her hands; to abide by her decisions. + +And Zizi accepted the tremendous responsibility gravely. + +"But it is all too wonderful," she said. "What happened? Where have you +been?" + +"Two broken legs,--compound fractures,--frozen +feet,--gangrene--ugh!--fierce--cut it out!" + +"The gangrene!" cried Zizi, horrified. + +"Yes, but I didn't mean that. I meant can the description of my +sufferings! They'd put the early Christian martyrs to the blush. They +would indeed! But let's take up the tale from the present moment." + +"Oh, wait a minute,--do! Who rescued you? Why haven't you----" + +"Lumbermen,--camp, miles from any sort of a lemon. Couldn't get into +communication. Fiercest winter ever known,--everything cut off from +everything else. Came home the minute I could,--and,--oh, thunder! how I +want to know things! Tell me heaps, do! And who are you, anyway?" + +"Heavens, what a tale! Yes, I'll tell you everything, but what shall I +fly at first? And--oh, I can't stand the responsibility of your secret! +I can't! Why are you keeping it secret? On account of your father?" + +"Yes, that's the sole reason. How can I come forward,--the son who is +supposed dead,--who is supposed to come back as a spook,--the son who +has had a book written about him----" + +"Oh, what a situation! And your father so wrapped up in the whole +business,--so positive in his beliefs----" + +"And that rascally medium!" + +"And those wicked materializations!" + +"And the fool Ouija Board!" + +"And that letter from you to Julie--oh, I say!" + +"And _I_ say! But, tell me, what can I do? Do you see it as I do? That I +must go away again, disappear forever,--or----" + +"Or break your father's heart,-- I mean,--oh, I don't know what I mean! +Mr. Peter, I think I'll lose my mind!" + +"I've almost lost mine, puzzling over the thing. But I've put the kibosh +on that Parlato!" + +"Oh, that's why you were there! I got things all wrong, didn't I? And +you came to your own home----" + +"Only because of a terrible attack of homesickness. You see, I still +have my latch key, and if you hadn't seen me, I should have merely had a +good look around, and then silently steal away, without, however, +stealing anything else!" + +Zizi smiled at her accusation of his burglarious intent, and then sat +musing. + +"I can't grapple with it," she said, at last. "It's too big. I shall +telegraph for Mr. Wise. He must come back at once and help us." + +"Now, look here, Miss Zizi, I'm not lying down on this job myself. I'm +not asking you to carry my burdens or fight my battles. I am very much +able to hoe my own row,--only I fear it's going to be a hard one. I'm +going to depend on you for help, if I may, but I'll take the helm; Peter +Boots leads, he doesn't follow." + +Zizi gazed at him, her eyes moist with emotional admiration. This man, +this splendid, fine man,--to efface himself to save his father's +reputation,--it was too bad! She couldn't stand it. + +"Now, wait," she began; "wouldn't your father,--your mother,--rather +have you back with them in the flesh,--than to have their pride spared?" + +"Answer that yourself," he returned. "I admit that if that question were +put to them, they would doubtless say yes. But that's not the thing. The +point is, they're reconciled to my loss, happy in the experiences +they're having,--delusions though they are,--and contented, even +exultant, in things as they are. Why disturb that happiness, for my +selfish reasons? Why not leave them to their Fools' Paradise,--for +that's what it is,--and not take the chance of what might easily be a +distressing disillusion?" + +"It would indeed be that," Zizi spoke gravely; "I know it would. But +what will you do?" + +"Go 'way off somewhere,--start fresh,--make a new name and fame for +myself and forget----" + +"Sacrifice your own identity to your father's reputation?" + +"Exactly that,--and, simply, it is my duty." + +"And Carlotta Harper?" + +Peter jumped. + +"Tell me about Carly," he said, speaking thickly. "Is she engaged to +Shelby?" + +"No, she isn't!" + +"I heard she was." + +"Probably he hinted it, and the report started. He's eternally after +her, but, to my certain knowledge she hasn't yet said yes." + +"Oh, my God! Dear little Carly! What can I do?" + +"She would go with you,--into a new life----" + +"No; don't be absurd! This secret must be kept inviolably. Nor could I +marry her under an assumed name, even if she were willing. Also, she may +have forgotten me." + +"No, she has not. Oh, Mr. Peter, you must come home." + +"I can't. But tell me more,--tell me of mother, of Julie,--why, I sent a +reporter to the house just to get a line on home life,--on present +conditions,--oh, little girl, you don't know what I suffered; it's all +so foolish,--so absurd,--the spook stuff, I mean,--yet, as I've learned, +it's the very breath of life to my Dad." + +"It is; but, look at the thing from another angle. Couldn't you help +unravel the Blair mystery. Here's Mr. Thorpe held for a crime I don't +think he committed; here's Julie crying her eyes out because of it----" + +"Julie! She and Thorpe!" + +"Yes, didn't you know that?" + +"No; are they engaged?" + +"In a way. If Thorpe should be freed Mr. Crane will give his consent. If +Thorpe is convicted----" + +"He shan't be convicted! He never killed Blair! I'll find out who killed +Blair, and then I'll go away after that. I'll help Julie,--why, Thorpe +wouldn't kill Gilbert, why should he?" + +"You've read the case?" + +"Yes, and thought how little evidence there was against Thorpe. But, I'm +ashamed to say, my own affairs rather blotted the matter out. But if +Julie's concerned, that's another matter. I'll free Thorpe,--and I can +do it, too!" + +"Then it's most certainly your duty, for many reasons. Look here, Mr. +Peter, don't let your ideas of duty get over-sentimental regarding your +father." + +"Oh, I don't!" Peter waxed impatient. "But I've mulled over the thing to +the very end, and I know, I _know_ father would be happier left to his +delusions. Yes, and mother, too. You see, I've read the book, and +knowing Dad as I do, I read between the lines, and I see how it would be +like stabbing his heart and draining his life blood to stultify that +book. No, Zizi, don't tempt me,--indeed, you can't." + +"Well, then, come back to the murder case. Have you any suspect other +than Thorpe?" + +"Why, sometimes, I think I have. But it's a serious thing to accuse, +without evidence. Now, I think I can get evidence, but mainly from +Madame Parlato. You see, she has been bribed by a powerful +influence,--she is absolutely under orders from some one, and it is +because of that she is so frightened for fear of exposure. I think in +the ordinary _séance_ with my father, where my spirit--ugh!--appears and +talks guff and rubbish, the medium is more fool than knave. But when the +spirit gives information concerning the murderer,--and wrong +information,--it's criminal work itself, and ought to be shown up." + +"Showing up the medium would expose the falsity of your father's book, +even without your reappearance." + +"I've thought of that, but there's duty there, too. If I can free Mac +Thorpe from unjust accusations, and incidentally, I'm thinking of +Julie,--it's in all ways my duty to do so,--even if----" + +"Even if it makes your father a butt for ridicule." + +"Yes, even that. All things are matters of comparison. Thorpe's life, or +even Thorpe's name mustn't be sacrificed to father's feelings. I may +sacrifice my own future, even my own life if I choose, but not that of +another." + +"Are you sure Mr. Thorpe is innocent?" + +"As sure as shooting! But you must tell me all the details of your +investigations. I've studied the newspaper reports, but I want your +accounts, too. When can you get Wise back here? Send for him at once, +will you? He can't get anything on Blair out there. Blair's life was +blameless. I know it as I know my own. Why, Zizi, you don't realize,-- +I've lived with my family and my friends for a whole long lot of years. +I'm no newcomer, except regarding the last six months. You can't tell me +of Blair's character, or Thorpe's either. Now, what I want to puzzle out +is whether I can do my part in producing the real murderer, without +revealing my presence here and without even showing my hand in the +matter." + +"You might appear as your own spook." + +"I've thought of that, and it offers wide possibilities. But it isn't +fair to mother and Dad. Let the medium fool them, if she will, it's not +for their own son to fool them, too! No, I can't do that." + +"You might appear to the--the criminal." + +"And give him the scare of his life! Yes, I might do that. But I'm not +yet sure he is the criminal,--I'm basing my suspicion on generalities, +not any specific evidence." + +"Tell me his name." + +"Not yet. Let's plan a little first. You see, I've arranged a fake +_séance_ with Madame Parlato. If I rearrange it a bit, it may serve our +purpose. I'll postpone it until Mr. Wise can get back, and then we'll +see what we shall see!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +The Confession + + +Peter Boots arranged and rearranged his plans for the _séance_ many +times. + +Though still living under the name of Louis Bartram, he had cast aside +fear of having his real identity discovered, pretty sure, now, that it +must come sooner or later. + +His present concern was with the discovery of Blair's murderer, and +thereby the freeing of his sister's fiancé. These accomplished he would +consider the case of his own restored identity, if it were not by that +time a foregone conclusion. + +Pennington Wise came back from the West, and was let into the secret. + +His amazement was beyond all bounds when Zizi took him over to the +Brooklyn hotel and he met Peter Crane. + +"This thing has never been equaled in my experience," he declared. "And +no one but Zizi could have found you out, unless you chose to make +yourself known. Now, we must move warily,--your quarry may get away." + +"You know whom I suspect?" asked Peter in astonishment. + +"Of course I do, and I've had the same suspect from the beginning. But I +couldn't get a shred of evidence,--haven't any yet,-- I say, Mr. Crane, +suppose you confide in me fully. You'll have no cause to regret it." + +So Peter Boots and Pennington Wise and Zizi had a long confab, in which +all cards were laid on the table, and all details of the plan settled. + +Wise agreed that it would be a fearful blow to Benjamin Crane's pride, +but he held that the author of the book about Peter would receive no +blame and the fame of the affair would be world-wide, which would make +up for the blow to the author's vanity. + +Peter was not convinced of this, but agreed to go ahead as Wise +suggested. Indeed, he had no choice, for it now rested on his statements +whether an innocent man was tried for crime or not. + +The medium was completely suborned. She was instructed that if she +obeyed orders implicitly and succeeded in fulfilling the desires of her +new employers, she would be paid a large sum of money, and enabled to +leave the country secretly and safety. + +For, after all, she was doing no more than the great army of "mediums" +all over the world, and if she achieved good at last, they wished no +harm to come to her. + +"Moreover," as Peter said, "she was a great comfort to my parents in my +absence, and when they know of my presence, they'll have no further use +for Madame!" + +The _séance_ was staged in the Crane home. + +It was a simple matter for Madame Parlato to persuade Benjamin Crane to +allow her to hold a session there, promising him a probable +materialization of his son, if allowed to attempt it in the scenes +familiar to Peter Boots. + +It was pathetic to see the hope and joy on the faces of Peter's father +and mother as they were offered this experience. Gladly they accepted +the proposition, and when the medium further advised them to invite a +few friends, they willingly did so. + +It was not announced that materialization was expected,--Madame Parlato +preferred it should not be, she said; so the friends were merely asked +to a _séance_. + +After all, Zizi, who had charge of the invitations informed them, +interest must be falling off, for no one was coming except Miss Harper, +who would also bring Mr. Shelby. + +However, with the Crane household, that made quite a group, and as +Detective Weston had heard about it, and asked to be present he also had +a seat, in the rear of the room. + +There was no air of secrecy, the waiting audience were receptive, +hopeful or skeptical as their natures prompted. + +Shelby and Carlotta whispered to each other that they were glad to see +a specimen of the genius that had hoaxed so able a mind as Benjamin +Crane's. Julie was out of sorts and sad, for she disliked the whole +subject, and pitied her father and mother for their absorption in it. + +At last Madame Parlato appeared. + +She was an impressive looking woman, tall, slender, and with the +traditional long green eyes and red hair. Her face was very white, but +she was calm and well-poised, and seemed to feel a great sense of +responsibility. + +She had not been informed of Peter's identity, but she knew him to be +acquainted with the man whom she still considered dead, and she knew +that Mr. Bartram was to impersonate Peter Crane. + +She asked the eight people present to sit in a circle and join hands, +allowing herself to make one of them. + +Weston flatly refused to do this, saying he preferred to sit alone at +the back of the room. He did so, and took his place near the door of the +small library of Mr. Crane's, the session being held in the large living +room. + +The medium requested that the lights be shut entirely off, saying that +sufficient illumination would come in from the street to prevent total +darkness. + +This proved to be true, and the dim light was just enough for them to +distinguish one another's forms but not faces. + +"Poppycock," whispered Shelby to Carlotta, as he held her hand. + +Zizi, who sat on Shelby's other side, heard it and answered, +"Absolutely." + +Then the usual things happened. The medium went into a trance state, and +the regular proceedings took place. + +She gave messages to Mr. Crane, purporting to be from his dead son. She +gave messages to Julie and to Peter's mother, all vapid and meaningless +and mentally scoffed at by all present, except the two elderly +listeners. + +At last the medium said, "I am weary,--weary,--I would sleep. The spirit +of Peter Crane himself would speak to you." + +"Will you?" eagerly asked Benjamin Crane, "will you speak yourself, +Peter?" + +"Yes, father," came a reply, and everybody started. + +Surely that was Peter's own voice! Not loud, almost a whisper, but with +the unmistakable cadence and tone of Peter, himself. + +"That's Peter!" cried Julie, excitedly, "oh, father, is it?" + +"Hush, dear," her father said, himself greatly agitated. "One must be +very calm and quiet on these occasions. Peter Boots, will you talk with +us?" + +"Gladly, Dad," came the voice again,--seeming to emanate from behind +Detective Western's chair,--as indeed it did. + +"Then tell us of yourself, my boy." + +Mrs. Crane said no word, but sat, her hand in that of her husband, full +of faith in the genuineness of it all, and ready to listen and believe. + +"I am very happy here, father," Peter's voice declared,--and Zizi bit +her lip to keep from smiling at the hackneyed phrase uttered by mortal +tongue! + +"You sound so real, Peter," Julie said, bluntly. "Is it always like +this?" + +For Julie had never attended a _séance_ before. + +"No, sister," the voice said, speaking more clearly with every word; +"this is an unusual occasion. Perhaps,--perhaps the medium can bring +about materialization to-night." + +"Oh, don't," Julie cried out, "I'm scared!" + +"Don't be frightened, Julie," Peter said, his voice faint again, "I +won't hurt you." + +The well-remembered gentleness reassured Julie, and she held tight to +her parents' hands and listened. + +"I have a message for each of you," the voice went on; "or you may each +ask me a question, as you prefer." + +"I'll ask," Julie exclaimed; "Peter, dear Peter Boots, tell me that Mac +never killed Gilbert. I know it, yet I want you to say so. They told me +you didn't know, and that you were misinformed and all that. You do +know, don't you, Peter?" + +"Yes, Julie, I know. And Mac didn't kill Gilbert at all. But I know who +did. Shall I tell?" + +"Yes," cried out several in chorus. + +And then, from out the dark shadows behind Weston's chair, there slowly +appeared a dark, cloaked form. A black-draped, hooded figure, that moved +slowly toward them. A tall, big figure that seemed to loom out of the +darkness, and then the hood fell back a little, a white ghostly face +appeared dimly and a slowly raised hand pointed to Kit Shelby. + +"Thou art the man!" came in low, accusing tones, and they were +unmistakably Peter's. + +Julie shrieked, and the accused man gave a strange, guttural sound, +expressive of abject fear, and as the tall figure drew nearer, he rose +to flee from its avenging shape. + +Shelby didn't go far, for his progress was stopped by the burly form of +Detective Weston, who advised him to sit down. + +"Confess!" went on the figure that seemed to be Peter, and with wild +eyes, fairly starting from their sockets at the sight, Shelby cried out, +"I did, oh, Peter, I did!" and then he fell in a convulsion of fright +and terror. + +And then, Peter Boots himself switched on the lights, threw off his long +cloak, and turned to take his mother in his arms. + +"My boy, my boy!" she said, knowing intuitively and instantaneously +that it was her son, alive and found. + +Benjamin Crane was a picture of utter perplexity. Unable to accept the +obvious, he tried for a moment to believe in a marvelous +"materialization," but Peter came to him, smiling and holding out an +eager hand. + +"Welcome me home, Dad," he said, a quiver in his strong voice. "I know +what a shock it is, but brace up and meet it,-- I'm here, and very much +alive. In fact, I never have been dead at all." + +"Peter,--Peter," his father muttered, and fearing ill effects, Zizi came +quickly to his side. + +"Yes, Mr. Crane," she said in her brisk little way. "Peter Boots, home +again. Never mind the spook stuff now. Cut it out,--forget it,--let him +tell us of his adventures." + +And now Carly came toward Peter. + +One glance passed between them, and she was in his arms, a smiling, +sweet Carly, who kissed him right before everybody, and said +triumphantly, "I knew you'd come back!" + +"Of course," said Peter, happily holding her to him. "I had to, the +gypsies prophesied it, you know. They didn't mean come back as a silly +old spirit, they meant come back in the flesh, and here I am. Kit, old +man, I'm sorry." + +And there was infinite sorrow and pity in the face that Peter turned on +Shelby, who was still trembling and mouthing in a vain effort to speak. + +"Get his confession," said Wise, lest when the shock wore off Shelby +might dare deny it all. + +But he couldn't speak, and out of very pity, Peter said, "I'll tell the +details, and Shelby can nod assent." + +"Go ahead," said Weston, his eye on his prisoner. + +"I'll not tell of my experiences now, only to say there is no blame to +be attached to Shelby or to Blair or to the guide for my accident. I +fell in the snow, and somehow so managed to double my half-frozen legs +under me that the silly things both broke. I floundered in the drifts +but couldn't get up, nor could I make the boys hear my shouts, for the +wind was against me. Well, I was picked up--after many hours--by some +lumbermen and my tale of woe thereafter would fill a set of books. But +never mind that now, I got home just as soon as I possibly could, having +been absolutely unable to get a letter here any sooner than I could come +myself. I came back to find that Dad, supposing me dead, had written a +book,--oh, my eye! Dad, how you did butter me! Well, then I was up a +stump to know whether to make my joyous presence known and spill the +beans entirely or whether to sneak off, disappear forever and leave Dad +to his laurel and bay." + +"Peter! how could you dream of such a thing!" Benjamin Crane was himself +now. "I'd a million times rather have you back than to have written all +the books in the world!" + +"But, father, think what people will say! I understand your book is read +and discussed from pole to pole----" + +"And it may be hooted at from pole to pole for all I care! Oh, Peter! +Peter Boots! Good old chap!" + +Peter's blue eyes beamed. The thing that had worried him most had turned +out all right. Moreover, Carly seemed still kindly disposed toward him. + +Remained only the dreadful business of Shelby and that must be put +through. + +"Then," Peter resumed, "I came home, and found old Gilbert Blair was +dead. Murdered. And Mac Thorpe arrested for the crime. + +"I know Thorpe, and I know he never did it. And I wondered. Then I read +in father's book about that old tobacco pouch of mine being +'materialized.' So I knew there was trickery afoot. For I had handed +that pouch to Kit only a short time before I fell down. And he hadn't +handed it back. So, that accounted for its presence in the possession of +the medium, though it didn't necessarily incriminate Shelby. He might +have lost it or had it stolen from him. + +"But, next I went to the Picture Show of 'Labrador Luck.' That, or at +least the plot, the backbone of it, was Blair's and mine. Together we +doped it out, sitting by our camp fire up there in the wilds, old Kit +dozing near by. He talked with us about it now and then, but his plans +were different from ours. All for a monster, spectacular production +which he has achieved, while Blair and I planned a little light comedy +affair. But the plot, the great theme of the thing, was Blair's,--and I +denounce Kit Shelby as the murderer of Gilbert Blair for the purpose of +using that plot alone and in his own way! Another motive lay in the fact +of his admiration for Carlotta Harper, whom, he thought, Blair was about +to marry. + +"And, if these do not seem to you, Mr. Weston and Mr. Wise, sufficient +motive for murder, I will inform you that Blair had discovered Shelby's +visits to the medium, Parlato, and had learned that it was he who was +responsible for the tobacco pouch, the handkerchief and that forged +letter. Blair discovered or suspected all this, and went to the medium +and forced her to admit he was correct. + +"Wherefore, Shelby had to be exposed and ruined, or--had to close +Blair's lips forever. He chose the latter course. The method was by a +poisoned soda mint, as has been suspected, and this I know, because +Shelby and I talked over methods of murder, when we were discussing +detective stories, and he detailed to me the very plan that I am sure he +used himself, that of putting one poisoned pellet in a bottle of plain +ones, and letting the result happen when it might. His argument was, +that the murderer would be far from the scene at the time death took +place. These statements I submit, and if Christopher Shelby can deny or +refute them, none will be more glad than I." + +Shelly maintained a sullen silence, refusing to look at Peter at all. + +But Weston adjured him to reply to the accusations with either +confession or denial, and he muttered: "Of course it's all true. I got +in deeper and deeper and there was no way out but to do for Blair. I +began giving the medium things just for fun,--the whole matter seemed to +me such rubbish, and I never dreamed Mr. Crane would take it so +seriously. Then when he did, and when Blair found out I had primed the +medium, and when I wanted his play and he wouldn't let me have it, and +when I wanted his girl,--and when he declared he would expose the medium +business,--I fell for the temptation. That's all." + +He lapsed again into utter dejection and Weston led him away before he +should collapse utterly. + +"Now, Julie, you can have your Mac," Peter went on, smiling at his +sister. "It's too late to-night----" + +"Not a bit of it," declared Penny Wise, "come along, Miss Crane, I'll +take you to him, and let you tell him yourself, and I shouldn't be +surprised if he came back with you." + +The two went off joyfully, leaving Peter to be lionized and petted by +his adoring people. + +Madame Parlato had long since disappeared, being allowed to get away +unmolested because of the help she had been. + +Then Peter and his parents had a talk, while Carlotta just sat and +looked at the group, knowing her turn would come. Zizi, too, like a +little _dea ex machina_, sat, gloating over the outcome of it all. + +Benjamin Crane utterly refused to listen to a word of regret at his +discredited book,--he only laughed happily and declared it was a joke on +himself, and he didn't care what the result might be or what loss he +might suffer in reputation or in pocketbook. + +Mrs. Crane said little but she held tight to the hand of her boy, and +lost herself in an oblivion of happiness. + +And then, turning to Carlotta, Peter said, "And you thought I'd never +come back?" + +"Peter," Carly said, "I'm an expert Ouija Boarder. I have the reputation +of making the Board say whatever I want it to. But my own theory is, +that the little pointer always goes straight to the message that the +performer wants. And whenever I tried it alone, and asked it if you'd +come back to me,--it said you would." + +Peter smiled at her, a little quizzically. + +"I don't know, Carly, whether you're making that up or whether you mean +it, but it doesn't matter, I did come back,--and I came back to +you,--and for you. Which, being interpreted, means, that when you're +ready to go home, I'll walk along with you. I'll have time to see the +family here to-morrow." + +Whereupon Carly smiled happily, and they two "walked along." + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Come Back, by Carolyn Wells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + +***** This file should be named 30868-8.txt or 30868-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/8/6/30868/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Come Back + +Author: Carolyn Wells + +Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30868] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print project. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>The Come Back</h1> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>CAROLYN WELLS</h2> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h3><span class="smcap">By CAROLYN WELLS</span></h3> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Come Back</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Onyx Lobby</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Man Who Fell Through the Earth</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Room with the Tassels</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Faulkner's Folly</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Bride of a Moment</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Doris of Dobbs' Ferry</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Book of Humorous Verse</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Such Nonsense</span>! <i>An Anthology</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> + +<h4>GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE COME BACK</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CAROLYN WELLS</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Author of "In the Onyx Lobby," "The Man</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Who Fell Through the Earth," Etc.</i></p> + +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> + +<h4>GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h4> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h4>COPYRIGHT, 1921,</h4> + +<h4>BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">The Prophecy</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">The Labrador Wild</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">The Snowstorm</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">The Prophecy Recalled</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">Madams Parlato</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">Strange Revelations</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">The Tobacco Pouch</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">Blair Knows</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Investigation</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">Evidence</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">Carlotta and the Board</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">Wise and Zizi</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII. "<span class="smcap">Labrador Luck</span>"</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">A Prophecy Fulfilled</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">An Interview</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">Zizi's Opportunity</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">The Heart Helper</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">The Confession</span></b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>The Prophecy</h3> + +<p>Even when Peter Crane was a baby boy, with eyes the color of the chicory +flowers that grow by the wayside along New England roads, and hair that +rivaled the Blessed Damosel's in being "yellow like ripe corn," he was +of an adventurous disposition.</p> + +<p>His innocent face was never so devoid of guile, his winning smile never +so cherubic as when he remarked that he would "jes' run froo the front +gate a minyit," and the next instant he was out of sight. Far afield his +roving spirit led him, and much scurrying was needed on the part of +nurse or mother to bring him back.</p> + +<p>At four he achieved a pair of most wonderful russet-topped boots,—aye, +even with straps to lift himself over a fence, if a fence came his way. +And these so accentuated and emphasized his world-faring inclinations +that he came to be known as Peter Boots.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>The name stuck, for Peter was always ready to boot it, and all through +his school and college days he led his willing mates wherever he listed. +He stalked forth and they followed; and, as he stopped not for brake and +stayed not for stone, the boys who eagerly trailed Peter Boots became +sturdy fellows.</p> + +<p>And now, at twenty-seven, Peter Boots was more than sturdy. He was tall +and big and strong, and the love of adventure, the dare-devil spirit of +exploration still shone in his chicory blue eyes, and his indomitable +will power was evident in his straight fine mouth and firm jaw.</p> + +<p>He had traveled some, even before the war, and now, comfortably settled +in his chosen niche and civilly engineering his way through the world, +he grasped at vacation seasons because they offered him a chance to don +his boots and be off.</p> + +<p>This year he had a grand plan,—its objective point being nothing short +of Labrador.</p> + +<p>He had read many books of the North lands, but a delightful chance +meeting with a doctor who lived up there gave him a sudden impetus to go +and explore a little for himself. His decision to start was +instantaneous, and there remained but to make the necessary +arrangements.</p> + +<p>For Peter Boots these arrangements consisted merely in getting two +congenial companions, and to them he left all minor details of +paraphernalia and equipment. Not that Peter was lazy or inclined to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +shift his burdens to others' shoulders, but he was so engrossed with the +itinerary and calculations of distance, climate and season that he had +no time to engage guides or buy camp outfits.</p> + +<p>But the two men he picked,—and who jumped at the chance,—were more +than willing and perfectly capable of all this, and so all details of +the expedition were carefully looked after.</p> + +<p>There had been opposition, of course. Peter's parents were emphatically +unwilling to let their only son run dangers, all the more fearsome +because only vaguely apprehended.</p> + +<p>But their big boy smiled genially at them and went on with his +calculations.</p> + +<p>His sister, too, pretty Julie, besought him not to go. "You'll get lost +in the ice," she wailed, "and never come back to me—and Carly."</p> + +<p>Now Carly,—otherwise Miss Carlotta Harper—was a disturbing element in +the even tenor of Peter's life, and of late her disturbance had attained +such importance that tucked away in a corner of his big, happy heart was +a cozy, cuddly little notion that when he came back from Labrador he +would take her to embark with him on a certain Great Adventure.</p> + +<p>Perhaps her womanly intuition sensed danger, for Carly joined with +Peter's sister in her entreaties that he spend his vacation nearer home.</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to," stated Peter, with the air of one giving a full +explanation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That settles it," sighed Julie; "what Peter Boots wants is law in this +house."</p> + +<p>"Autocrat! Tyrant! Oppressor!" and Carlotta wrinkled her little nose in +an effort to express scornful disdain.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Peter agreed, with his benignant smile, "despot, demagogue, +dictator, oligarch, lord of the roost and cock of the walk! It's a great +thing to be monarch of all one surveys!"</p> + +<p>"To the surveyor," flouted Carlotta, "but if you knew what the surveyed +think of you!"</p> + +<p>"I'd be all puffed up with pride and vanity, I suppose," Peter nodded +his still golden head, though Time's caressing fingers had burnished the +yellow to a deeper bronze.</p> + +<p>"You'll break mother's heart," suggested Julie, but in a hopelessly +resigned tone.</p> + +<p>"Only the same old break, sister, and it's been cracked and mended so +many times, I'm sure it'll stand another smash."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's going, and that's all there is about it," said Carlotta with +the air of a fatalist.</p> + +<p>"I'm going," Peter assented, "but that isn't all there is about it. I'm +coming back!" and he looked at the girl with unmistakable intent.</p> + +<p>"Maybe and maybe not," she returned, with crushing carelessness, whether +real or assumed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, maybe and maybe not!" put in Julie. "You don't know about +the prophecy, Carly! Shall I tell her, Peter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me, of course," and Miss Harper looked eagerly interested. "Who +prophesied what? and when?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was years ago," Julie began, "we met a lot of gypsies, and +mother would have them tell the family fortunes. And one of them said +that Peter would go off on a long journey and that he would die a +terrible death and never come home."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Carly shuddered, "don't tell me any more!"</p> + +<p>"But the more is the best part of it," said Peter, smiling; "you see, +mother was so upset by this direful news, that another gypsy took pity +on her and amended my cruel fate. The second seeress declared that I +must meet the destiny number one had dealt me, but that to mitigate the +family grief, I would return afterwards."</p> + +<p>"As a spook?" cried Carlotta, "how interesting!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps; but it doesn't interest me at present You see, this trip is +not the fatal one——"</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" from Julie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's too soon. That old prophecy isn't fairly ripe yet. Moreover, +I'm not ready for it. I'm going to Labrador,—and I'm coming back,—and +then, if all goes well, perhaps I'll never want to go away again. And if +not,——" he looked at Carly, "I may be glad to take the last and final +trip! But if I go on with the program and return as my own ghost, I'll +lead you girls a dance! I'll haunt you in season and out of season!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pooh, I'm not afraid," Carly tossed her head; "I've no faith in any of +this spiritist foolery."</p> + +<p>"Don't call it foolery, my child," said a serious voice, as Peter's +father came into the room.</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane gave the impression of power and gentleness, a fine +combination and rarely seen in its perfection. A man of sixty, he looked +older, for his thick hair was white and his smoothly shaven face was +lined with deep furrows.</p> + +<p>He joined the group of young people, and it was indicative of his nature +that there was no pause in the conversation or appearance of constraint +of any sort.</p> + +<p>"But it is foolery, Mr. Crane," Carlotta defended, "I've tried the Ouija +Board myself, and it's a silly business."</p> + +<p>"Not so silly as to condemn something you know little or nothing about," +Mr. Crane said, in his serious, kindly way. "My dear Carlotta, even +though you don't 'believe in' the supernatural, do try to realize that +your lack of belief doesn't bar the rest of us from having faith in +revelation."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Crane," Carly wasn't a bit offended, "don't +mind me! Believe all you want to. But, do you believe in this 'Gypsy's +Warning' about Peter? That's different, you know, from the usual +claptrap."</p> + +<p>"It's not exactly a question of belief," Mr. Crane said, slowly. "You +will, I am sure, agree that Peter may be killed on some of these wild +and dangerous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> adventures in which his soul delights. Let us hope the +day is far off, if it must come at all. And as to his spirit's +return,—that is, of course, possible,—to my mind, at least."</p> + +<p>"If possible, then extremely probable," declared Peter, laughing; "I've +just told the girls, Dad, that I'll haunt them like a continuous +performance, if conditions allow. Want me to appear to you, too?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be so flippant, Son. If you die while away from us, and if your +spirit can return and communicate with me, I shall, indeed, be glad to +receive such messages, no matter through what medium."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness, gracious!" exclaimed Carlotta; "not through a medium, I +beg of you, Peter! I don't want spook messages that way! I don't mind a +nice little Ouija or Planchette, but a common, blowsy, untidy medium +person,—and they're all like that,—I can't stand for!"</p> + +<p>"Why, you little rascal, what do <i>you</i> know about mediums?" Peter Boots +frowned at her.</p> + +<p>"I went to a <i>séance</i> once,—but, wow! never again!"</p> + +<p>"I should hope not! You stay away from such places, or I won't come home +to you at all,—dead or alive! How would you like that?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, oh, despot, oligarch, Grand Panjandrum,—or whatever you +call yourself. Please come back, and all will be forgiven."</p> + +<p>It was tea time in the Crane home, and though the home was only a summer +cottage, up Westchester<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> way, yet the big living room, with its +hospitable easy chairs and occasional tables, its willow and chintz, +gave an impression of an English household. It was late in July and, +though warm, it was not sultry, and the breeze coming in at the big +windows was crisp and fresh.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crane drifted into the room almost at the same moment two men +appeared from outdoors.</p> + +<p>A happy complacency was the chief attribute of Peter's mother, and this +spoke from every smile of her amiable face and every movement of her +plump but still graceful form.</p> + +<p>As Peter adjusted the cushions she took a low willow chair and smiled a +greeting at all, including the newcomers.</p> + +<p>These were Kit Shelby and Gilbert Blair, the two companions of the +Labrador trip.</p> + +<p>They were good-looking, well set-up chaps, quite evidently unable to +talk of anything save the plans for the momentous journey.</p> + +<p>"Got a wonder for a guide," began Shelby, as soon as decent greetings +had been made. "He's just been let loose by Sir Somebody of Somewhere, +and I nailed him. Name o' Joshua,—but we can stand that. He really +knows it all,—without continually proclaiming the fact."</p> + +<p>"I'm thankful that you've a fine guide," murmured Mrs. Crane, in her +satisfied way. "It means so much to me to know that."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Lady Crane," assented young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> Blair. "And old Peter will +have to obey him, too."</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall," put in Peter. "I always bow to authority, when it's +greater than my own. Oh, won't it all be great! I'm crazy to start. +Think of it, Dad,—we three fellows sitting around a camp fire, smoking +our pipes and spinning yarns of an evening, after a long day's hike over +the ice and snow!"</p> + +<p>"Thought you were going in a canoe," said his sister.</p> + +<p>"Part of the way,—but, later, we abandon the craft and hoof it."</p> + +<p>"Maybe and maybe not," said Shelby. "It all depends on the weather +conditions. But the season is just right, and we'll have good going, one +way or another, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"You're the surest thing I know, Kit," Gilbert Blair said; "now with no +hint of pessimism, I own up I look for pretty hard lines a good bit of +the time."</p> + +<p>"Calamity Howler!" returned Shelby; "why damp our enthusiasm like that?"</p> + +<p>"Can't damp mine," and Peter beamed with glad anticipation. "Let the +hard lines come if they like. I'm expecting them and expecting to enjoy +them along with the rest."</p> + +<p>"Pollyanna Peter!" chaffed Carlotta; "shan't you mind it if the blizzard +blows down your tent and the dogs run away with your dinner and your +feets give out?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nixy! I'll set up the tent again, get some more dinner from the larder +and rest my feet for a spell."</p> + +<p>"That's right, boy," said his father, "that's the spirit. But do take +enough provisions and, if they run low, make a dash for home."</p> + +<p>"Just my idea, Dad, exactly. And as Shelby's looking after the +commissariat, and Blair attending to the tents and cooking outfit, +something tells me they'll be top hole. Maybe not such traps as +these——" and Peter nodded toward the elaborate tea service being +brought in and arranged before Mrs. Crane, who was in her element as +hostess.</p> + +<p>"No, you poor boys," she said, "I suppose you'll drink out of horrible +thick china——"</p> + +<p>"Not china at all, ma'am," corrected Blair; "lovely white enamel, +though, with blue edges——"</p> + +<p>"I know!" cried Carlotta, "like our motor lunch-box."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that sort, and not bad, either. Oh, we'll rough it more or less, +but it won't be absolutely primitive,—not by a long shot!"</p> + +<p>"It'll be absolutely perfect," said Peter, dreamily gazing off into +space, and seeing in his mind great white stretches of snowy landscape, +or black, gurgling holes in ice-bound rivers.</p> + +<p>"You are so ridiculous!" declared his sister. "You're a regular Sybarite +at home. You love easy chairs and pillows and fresh flowers all about, +and all that,—then you want to go off where you'll have nothing nice at +all,—not even a laundry!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Right you are, Sis. The Human warious is hard to understand. Come +along, Carly, take me for a walk."</p> + +<p>Rather slowly the girl rose, and the two sauntered forth, across the +wide veranda, across the lawn and down a garden path. Neither spoke +until, coming to a marble bench, they sat down and turned to look into +each other's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Going to say yes before I go, Carly, or after I come back?"</p> + +<p>"After you come back," was the prompt response.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! You promise to say it <i>then</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't say how <i>soon</i> after."</p> + +<p>"I'll decide on the soonness. Then I take it we're engaged?"</p> + +<p>"You take it nothing of the sort! You know, Peter Crane, you can't boss +me as you do your own family!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid! Why, dear, I want you to boss me! Our life together will +be one grand boss,—and you can be it!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, I'm in earnest. I couldn't be happy with a dominating, +domineering man."</p> + +<p>"Of course you couldn't. But I assure you I'm not one. You see, I only +dictate in my own family because they like to have me to do so. Mother +would be awfully upset if I didn't tell her what to do. Dad the +same,—although I'm not sure the old dear knows it himself. And as for +Julie,—why she just depends on me. So I naturally gravitate to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +place of Grand Mogul, because I can't help it. But with you, it's +different. You're a whole heap wiser, better and more fit to rule than +I. And if you'll rule me, I'll be greatly obliged,—honest, I will."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're so absurd, Peter! I don't want to rule, either. I want us to +be equally interested in everything, and have equal say in any matter."</p> + +<p>"All right,—equality goes. I'll race you to see which can be the +equalest. Now, are we engaged?"</p> + +<p>"No, Peter, not till you come back."</p> + +<p>"But I want to kiss you, and I can't, I suppose, until we are engaged. +Oh, can I?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not! Take your hand off my hand."</p> + +<p>"Lordy, can't I even touch your hand?"</p> + +<p>"Not with that ownership grasp! I am afraid of your possessive +qualities, Peter."</p> + +<p>"Meaning just what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that if I do give myself to you, you'll own me so—so +emphatically."</p> + +<p>"I sure shall! And then some. Don't imagine, my child, that I'll accept +you with any reservations. You'll be 'mine to the core of your heart, my +beauty'! Bank on that!"</p> + +<p>"I do,—and if I'm yours at all,—it <i>will</i> be that way. But wait till +you come back. There's time enough. I suppose there's no chance for +letters?"</p> + +<p>"No; not after the first few days. We'll be out of reach of mail very +soon."</p> + +<p>"And you're returning?"</p> + +<p>"I want to be home for Christmas. Kit thinks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> we'll make it, but Blair +is some doubtful. So, look for me when you see me."</p> + +<p>"Alive or dead?"</p> + +<p>"Carly! What made you say that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know." The girl shuddered and her eyes stared into Peter's. "I +seemed to say it without any volition,—the words just came——"</p> + +<p>"Well, don't let them come again. I don't like it a little bit. I'm +coming home alive, very much alive,—and I'm coming home to claim +you,—remember that."</p> + +<p>"Unless either of us falls in love with some one else. Those girls of +the far North are beautiful, I hear."</p> + +<p>"An Eskimo with a nose ring? No, thank you! My heart is true to Poll! +But don't you go and set your somewhat fickle heart on another man, +'cause if you do, I shall have to kill him, much as I'd regret such a +necessity."</p> + +<p>"My heart isn't fickle! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I say. I think it is. I think my little black-eyed, +rosy-cheeked Carly is quite capable of being on with a new love whether +she's off with the old or not."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter," and the black eyes showed moisture, "how cruel you are!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it so, Carly? Tell me it isn't,—I'll be so glad!"</p> + +<p>But the coquettish glance that answered him was not entirely +reassuring.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Anyway," Peter pleaded on, "tell me you like me better than Kit or +Gilbert. Tell me that if I'm a prey to green-eyed jealousy up there in +the camp, at least, I needn't envy either of those chaps."</p> + +<p>"Of course not!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you torment! Your words are all right,—but your emphasis is a +little too strong. Carly, look me straight in the eyes and tell me you +don't care for either of them!"</p> + +<p>"Either of your eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Silly! Well, yes, then, tell me that!"</p> + +<p>The chicory flower eyes looked into the great, dark ones, and for a +moment there was silence. The blue eyes were sweet and true, and they +burned with a strong, deep lovelight. The eyes that gazed into them fell +a little and seemed unable to meet them squarely.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Carly? What is it, dear?" he begged.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said, lightly. "I do l-like you, Peter,—better than any +man I know——"</p> + +<p>"Better than Kit Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Better than Gil Blair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"They're the ones I most feared. And mostly because I didn't want to go +on a trip with a man I'm jealous of! That would be a fine kettle of +fish!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, you won't do that. Don't worry about them,—or any one else."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you blessed little girl! Carly, dearest, why can't you say yes, +now? Won't you, Carly,—please."</p> + +<p>The caressing voice was low and gentle, the pleading blue eyes were very +earnest, but Carlotta still shook her head.</p> + +<p>"When you come back," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"All right, then," and Peter's face showed one of its masterful looks. +"I'll accept your decree,—as I can't very well help myself, but just as +sure as you're sitting there, Carly Harper, I'm going to kiss you!"</p> + +<p>And he did; gathering her into his arms with a gentle insistence and +kissing her squarely on her surprised red lips.</p> + +<p>"There!" he said, "I guess you'll remember now that you belong to +me,—whether you call yourself engaged or not! Mad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she responded, but the one swift glance she gave him belied her +words.</p> + +<p>"You'll get over it," he said, cheerfully. "I'd like to kiss you again, +though. May I?"</p> + +<p>"When you come back," she said, and Peter waited.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>The Labrador Wild</h3> + +<p>It was late in July before Peter Boots marshaled his merry men and let +himself be marshaled by the guide, Joshua, on the trip of exploration +and recreation.</p> + +<p>A liner took them as far as Newfoundland, and at St. John's, a smaller +steamer, the <i>Victoria Lake</i>, received them for their journey farther +North. This ship belonged to a sealing fleet and also carried mails. It +was not especially comfortable, and neither staterooms nor food were of +the best.</p> + +<p>But Peter was discomfort-proof, and his negligence of bothersome details +and happy acceptance of existing conditions set a standard for the +manners and customs of their party. Joshua, who had come to New York +City to meet them, was not, by nature, possessed of the sort of heart +that doeth good like medicine. But under the sunny smile of Peter's blue +eyes, his customary scowl softened to a look of mild wonder at the +effervescent gayety of the man who was yet so efficient and even +hard-working when occasion required it.</p> + +<p>Shelby was a close second in the matter of efficiency.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> He was a big +chap, not handsome, but good-looking, in a dark, dignified way, and of a +lithe, sinewy strength that enabled him to endure as well as to meet +hardship bravely.</p> + +<p>Not that they looked especially for hardships. Discomfort, even +unpleasantness, they did anticipate, but nothing of more importance than +inclement weather or possible colds or coughs. And against the latter +ills Mrs. Crane had provided both remedies and preventions to such an +extent that some were discarded as excess weight.</p> + +<p>For the necessities of their trip, including as they did, canoe, tent, +blankets, tarpaulins, duffel bags, shooting irons and cooking +utensils,—besides food, were of no small bulk and weight even divided +among four porters.</p> + +<p>And Blair, though possessed of will and energy quite equaling the +others', was less physically fit to stand the hard going.</p> + +<p>It was already August when they were treated to a first sight of the +Labrador.</p> + +<p>"Great Scott!" exclaimed Shelby, "and Shackelton, and Peary,—yes and +old Doc Cook! What an outlook! If those breaking waves were looking for +a stern and rockbound coast to dash on, they missed it when they chose +the New England shore instead of this! I've seen crags and cliffs, I've +climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, but this puts it over all +the earth! How do we get in, anyway?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Great, isn't it?" and Peter lay back in his inadequate little deck +chair and beamed at the desolation he saw.</p> + +<p>For the coast of Labrador is nearly a thousand miles of barren bleakness +and forbidding and foreboding rock wall. After buffeting untold ages of +icy gales and biting storms the bare rocks seem to discourage human +approach and crave only their own black solitude.</p> + +<p>The one softening element was the fog that rode the sea, and now and +then swooped down, hiding the dangerous reefs until the danger was +increased tenfold by the obscurity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, great!" mocked Shelby. "You can have mine. I'm going to stay on the +boat and go back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are!" grinned Peter, knowing full well how little importance +to attach to that speech; "inside of a week, you'll be crazy about it."</p> + +<p>"I am now," said Blair, slowly. "Most weird sight I ever saw. The rocks +seem like sentient giants ready to eat each other. Termagant Nature, +unleashed and rampant."</p> + +<p>"Idea all right," said Crane, lazily, "but your verbiage isn't +hand-picked, seems to me."</p> + +<p>"You can put it more poetically, if you like, but it's the thing itself +that gets me, not the sand-papered description of it."</p> + +<p>"Nobody wants you to sand-paper it, but you ought to hew to the line a +little more nearly——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lines be bothered! Free verse is the thing for this place!"</p> + +<p>"I want free verse and I want fresh air," bantered Peter, "and Lasca, +down by the Brandywine,—or wherever it was that Friend Lasca hung out."</p> + +<p>"You're harking back to your school days and Friday afternoon +declamation," put in Shelby, "and Lasca was down by the Rio Grande."</p> + +<p>"Only Alaska isn't down there at all," Blair informed them, quite +seriously, and the others roared.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After delays, changes and transfers made necessary by the uncertainties +of Labrador travel, they came at last to Hamilton Inlet, and the little +steamer approached the trading post at Rigolet.</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of Hamilton Harbor, Bermuda," observed Shelby, shivering as +he drew his furs round him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can you!" exclaimed Blair; "that heavenly Paradise of a +place,—and this!"</p> + +<p>"But you'd rather be here?" and Crane shook a warning fist at him.</p> + +<p>"Yes,—oh, yes! This is the life!" and if Blair wasn't quite sincere he +gave a fair imitation of telling the truth.</p> + +<p>"Will you look at the dogs!" cried Crane. "I didn't know there were so +many in the world!"</p> + +<p>The big Eskimo dogs were prowling about, growling a little, and +appearing anything but friendly. Not even to sunny-faced and +kindly-voiced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> Peter Boots did they respond, but snarled and pawed the +ground until Joshua advised Crane to let them alone.</p> + +<p>"They're mighty good things to keep away from," the guide informed, and +his advice was taken.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad we have a trusty canoe instead of those villainous looking +creatures," Blair admitted, and when, later on, they heard tales of the +brutality and treachery of the pack dogs, the others agreed.</p> + +<p>At Rigolet final arrangements were decided on and last purchases made +for the dash into the wilds.</p> + +<p>Peter Boots, in his element, was as excited and pleased as a child with +a new toy.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, where I've longed to be!" he exulted; "at least, I'm on my +way. Buck up, you fellows, and enjoy yourselves, or you'll answer to me +why not!"</p> + +<p>"I'm for it," Kit Shelby cried; "I hated that dinky little old steamer, +but now we're ashore in this live wire of a place, I'm as excited and +glad as anybody. I say, the mail from England comes every year! Think of +that!"</p> + +<p>"Once a year!" wondered Blair.</p> + +<p>"Yep; the good ship <i>Pelican</i> brought it yesterday, and it's due again +next summer! Up and coming, this place, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"It nothing means to us," said Crane, calmly; "I'm expecting no +valentines from England myself, and we'll be back home before mails from +the States get around again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And, moreover," said Shelby, who had been acquiring information by +various means, "old Captain Whiskers, forninst, says that we're bound to +get lost, strayed and stolen if we go the route we've planned."</p> + +<p>"That's our route, then!" Peter said, satisfiedly; "they always prophesy +all sorts of dismal fates, and, like dreams, they go by contraries. +'Fraid, boys!"</p> + +<p>He extricated himself from the onslaught this speech brought and then +all set about getting the outfit into shape for the start.</p> + +<p>Pounds and pounds of flour, bacon, lard, pea meal, tea, coffee, rice, +tobacco and other necessaries were packed and stowed and maneuvered by +the capable Joshua, before whose superior judgment Peter Boots had to +bow.</p> + +<p>Some natives were hired to help carry things that were to be cached +against the return trip, and three tired but happy men went to rest for +their last night beneath a real roof for many weeks.</p> + +<p>Next morning their happiness was even greater and their spirits higher, +for the day was clear and perfect, the air full of exhilarating ozone +and the golden sunlight and deep blue sky seemed to promise a fair trip +and a safe return.</p> + +<p>Gayly they started off, and gayly they continued, save when the rain +poured unpleasantly, or the swarms of Labrador flies attacked them or +steep banks or swift rapids made portage difficult.</p> + +<p>However as no threats or persuasions could induce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> Joshua to travel in +the rain, there were enforced rests that helped in the long run.</p> + +<p>Another trial was the midday heat. Though the temperature might be at +the freezing point at night, by noon it would buoyantly rise to ninety +degrees, and the sudden changes made for colds and coughs, that were not +easily cured by Mrs. Crane's nostrums.</p> + +<p>"Fortunes of war," said Peter, serenely, and Shelby responded, "If +that's what they are, I'm a regular profiteer!"</p> + +<p>Days went by, the hours filled with alternate joy and woe, but accepted +philosophically by willing hearts who had already learned to love the +vicissitudes of the wild.</p> + +<p>One morning a portage route was of necessity winding and rough. Not as +much as usual could be carried by any of them and two or three trips of +two miles must be made by each.</p> + +<p>Joshua arranged the loads to weigh about seventy pounds each, but these +became tiresome after a time. The work took all day, and when toward +sunset camp was made and the tired pleasure seekers sought rest, each +was far more exhausted than he was willing to admit.</p> + +<p>"Had enough?" asked Peter, smiling. "Turn back any time you fellows say. +Want to quit?"</p> + +<p>"Quit! Never!" declared Shelby. "Go home when you like, or stay as long +as you please, but no quitting!"</p> + +<p>"It's goin' be nice now," put in Joshua, who was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> always sensitive to +any discontent with his beloved North land. "Nice fishin', nice +sleepin',—oh, yes!"</p> + +<p>And there was. Rest that night on couches of spruce branches, that +rocked like a cradle, and smelled like Araby the Blest, more than knit +up the raveled sleeve of the hard day before.</p> + +<p>And when they fished in a small, rocky stream, for heaven sent trout, +contentment could go no further. Unless it might have been when later +they ate the same trout, cooked to a turn by the resourceful Joshua, and +then, lounging at ease before a camp-fire that met all traditions, they +smoked and talked or were silent as the spirit moved.</p> + +<p>The black firs showed gaunt against the sky; the stars came out in +twinkling myriads and the dash and roar of the river was an +accompaniment to their desultory chat.</p> + +<p>"If I were a poet," Blair said, "I'd quote poetry about now."</p> + +<p>"Your own, for choice?" asked Shelby, casually.</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> a poet, Gil," said Peter. "I've noticed it all the way along. +You don't have to lisp in numbers to be a poet. You just have to——"</p> + +<p>"Well, to what?" asked Blair, as Peter paused.</p> + +<p>"Why, you just have to want to recite poetry."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it," put in Shelby, quickly; "understand, Gilbert, dear, +you don't have to recite it, you know, only want to recite it. If you +obey your impulse,—you're no poet at all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll restrain the impulse then,—but it's hard—hard!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go ahead," laughed Kit, "if it's as hard as all that! I'll bet it's +highbrow stuff you want to get out of your system!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is. In fact it's Browning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind him. Fire away."</p> + +<p>"Only this bit:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 23em;">"You're my friend;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23em;">What a thing friendship is, world without end.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23em;">How it gives the heart and the senses a stir-up,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23em;">As if somebody broached you a glorious runlet——"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"That'll do," laughed Peter. "That's far enough. And you didn't say it +quite right, any way."</p> + +<p>"No matter," said Blair, earnestly; "I mean the thing. Without any +palaver, we three fellows are friends,—and I'm glad of it. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Shelby, "for my share. And old Pete is +fairly overflowing with appreciation,—I see it in his baby-blue +eyes——"</p> + +<p>"I'll baby you!" said Peter, with a ferocious smile. "Yes, old Gilbert, +we're friends, or I shouldn't have picked us as the fittest for this +trip."</p> + +<p>"Good you did, for the fittest have the reputation of surviving."</p> + +<p>"Let up on the croaks," Peter spoke abruptly. "Have you noticed any +fearful dangers, that you apprehend non-survival of them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; but——"</p> + +<p>"But nothing! Now, Blairsy, if you're in thoughtful mood, let's go on +with that plot we started yesterday."</p> + +<p>"What plot?' asked Shelby.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a great motive for a story or play. Setting up here in the Labrador +wilds and——"</p> + +<p>Shelby yawned. "Mind if I doze off?" he said; "this fire is +soporific——"</p> + +<p>"Don't mind a bit," returned Peter gayly; "rather you would, then Gil +and I can maudle on as we like."</p> + +<p>And they did. Both were of a literary turn, and though they had achieved +nothing of importance as yet, both hoped to write sooner or later.</p> + +<p>"A story," Peter said, "maybe a book, but more likely a short story, +with a real O. Henry punch."</p> + +<p>"H'mph!" came in a disdainful grunt from the dozing Shelby.</p> + +<p>"You keep still, old lowbrow," advised Peter. "Don't sniff at your +betters. There's a great little old plot here, and we're going to make a +good thing of it and push it along."</p> + +<p>"Push away," and Shelby rolled himself over and dozed again.</p> + +<p>"Where's Joshua?" asked Crane, later, as, the talk over, they prepared +to bunk on their evergreen boughs.</p> + +<p>"Haven't seen him since supper," said Shelby, sitting up and rubbing his +eyes. "Queer, isn't it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Queer it surely was, and more so, as time went by and they could find no +trace of their guide.</p> + +<p>"He can't be lost," said Kit; "he's too good a scout for that."</p> + +<p>"He can't have deserted us," declared Peter. "He's too good a friend for +that! He'll no more desert us than we'd desert one another."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's missing anyway," Blair said, undeniably; "then something +must have happened. Could he be caught in a trap?"</p> + +<p>"Not he! he's used to them about. No, he's had an accident, I think." +Peter's eyes were anxious and his voice told of a fear of some real +disaster.</p> + +<p>The dusk fell early and though only about nine o'clock, it was as dark +as midnight. Clouds had obscured the stars, and only the firelight +relieved the black darkness.</p> + +<p>But after an hour's worriment and distress on the part of the three men +the guide returned. He looked a little shame-faced, and was disinclined +to reply to their questions.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, Joshua, own up," directed Peter; "I see by your eyes you've +been up to mischief. Out with it!"</p> + +<p>"I—I got lost!" was the astonishing reply, and they all burst into +laughter. More at the rueful countenance, however, than at the news, for +it was a serious matter.</p> + +<p>"You, a guide, lost!" exclaimed Shelby. "How did it happen?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dunno. Jest somehow couldn't find the way."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you a compass?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I got sort of turned around like,—and I went a long hike the +wrong way."</p> + +<p>Simply enough, to be sure, but apparently it was only good fortune that +had made him find at last the road home to camp.</p> + +<p>Light-hearted Peter dismissed the whole affair with a "Look out after +this; and always carry a compass or take one of us boys along," and then +he sought his fragrant, if not altogether downy couch.</p> + +<p>Blair, too, gave the episode little thought, but to Shelby it seemed +more important. If a hardened guide could get lost as easily as that, it +might happen to any of them. And a compass was not a sure safeguard. A +man could wander round and round without finding a fairly nearby camp. +Shelby was a few years older than the other two, and of a far more +prudent nature. He had no dare-devil instincts, and not an overweening +love of adventure. He was enjoying his trip because of the outdoor life +and wildwood sports, but as for real adventure, he was content to omit +it. Not from fear—Kit Shelby was as brave as any,—but he saw no sense +in taking unnecessary risks.</p> + +<p>While risks were as the breath of life to Peter Boots. Indeed, he was +sighing because the conditions of modern camping ways and the efficiency +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> the guide left little or no chance for risk of life or limb.</p> + +<p>He didn't by any means want to lose life or limb, but he was not at all +unwilling to risk them pretty desperately. And he found no opportunity. +The days were pleasantly taken up with fishing, shooting, moving on, +setting up and taking down camp, and all the expected routine of a +mountain expedition; but, so far, there had been nothing unusual or even +uncomfortable to any great degree.</p> + +<p>The next day brought a fearful storm, with gales and sleet and driving +rain and the temperature dropped many degrees.</p> + +<p>The party experienced their first really cold weather, and though it +depressed the others Peter seemed to revel in it.</p> + +<p>The tent was practically a prison, and an uncomfortable one, for the +wind was terrific and the squalls became hourly more menacing.</p> + +<p>Shelby was quiet, by reason of a sore throat, and Blair was quiet with a +silence that was almost sulky.</p> + +<p>Not quite though, for irrepressible Peter kept the crowd good-natured, +by the simple process of making jokes and laughing at them himself, so +contagiously, that all were forced to join in.</p> + +<p>But at last he tired of that, and announced that he was going to write +letters.</p> + +<p>"Do," said Shelby, "and hurry up with them. The postman will be along +any minute now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>Peter grinned, and really set himself to work with paper and pencil.</p> + +<p>"I know what you're doing," said Blair; "you're beginning our story."</p> + +<p>"I'm not, but that isn't half a bad idea. Let's start in, Gil. We can +plan it and make up names and things——"</p> + +<p>"Why can't you really write it?" asked Shelby. "I should think it would +be the psychological moment. Isn't it to be all about the storms and +other indigenous delights of Labrador?"</p> + +<p>"You take that tone and I'll pitch you out into the indigenous +delights," threatened Peter. "Come on, Gilbert, let's block out the +backbone of the yarn right now."</p> + +<p>They set to work, and by dint of much discussing, disagreeing, +ballyragging and bulldozing each other, they did make a fair start.</p> + +<p>"What's the heroine like?" asked Shelby, beginning to be interested.</p> + +<p>"Like Carly Harper," said Blair promptly.</p> + +<p>"Not the leastest, littlest mite like Carly Harper," said Peter, his +blue eyes hardening with determination.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" demanded Blair, who cared little what the heroine was like; +but who objected to contradiction without reason.</p> + +<p>"Because I say not," returned Peter, impatiently. "The heroine is a +little rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired doll. She has blue eyes,—something +like mine,—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> a saucy, turn-up nose, and a dimple in her left cheek."</p> + +<p>"A peach," said Shelby, "but no sort of a heroine for that yarn you two +fellows are spinning. I'm no author, but I'm an architect, and I can see +the incongruity."</p> + +<p>"If you know so much, write it yourself," said Peter, but not pettishly. +"If I'm doing it, I create my own heroine or I quit."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't quit," begged Blair. "We're just getting a good start. Have +the treacle and taffy heroine if you like, only keep on."</p> + +<p>His point won, Peter did keep on, and a fair bit of work was +accomplished. For the first time it began to seem as if the two authors +would really produce something worth while.</p> + +<p>"Not likely," Peter said, as they talked this over. "I'm no sort of a +collaborator,—I'm too set in my ways. If I can't have it the way I want +it, I can't do it at all."</p> + +<p>"But you can have your own way in details," said Blair, musingly. "They +don't matter much. Give me the swing of the plot and let me plan the +climaxes, and I care not who makes the laws for the heroine's +complexion."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm for a run in the rain," said Peter. "I've worked my brain +into a tangled snarl, and I must go out and clear it out."</p> + +<p>He shook himself into his storm togs, and as no one cared to go with +him, he started off alone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>The Snowstorm</h3> + +<p>Given three good-natured young men, a satisfactory guide, a stretch of +Labrador wild, and no cares of any sort, it is not surprising that the +happy days and weeks followed one another into the maw of Time, until +the date of departure for home drew near.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to stay here forever," declared Blair, as he filled his pipe +and stretched luxuriously before the fire. "Civilization has lost all +charm for me."</p> + +<p>"Go away with you!" scoffed Peter Boots, "that's a fine, ambitious +spirit to show, and you a rising young author,—or about to become one."</p> + +<p>"Not unless you duff in and help, old chap. Our book hangs on your +efforts, I've pretty well done my part of it."</p> + +<p>"And I'll do mine, don't worry. I'm a procrastinator and a put-offer, +but I'll get there! Now, cut out the book till we get home. These last +few days up here must be given over to Nature as she is snowed under!"</p> + +<p>It was the last week in September, but snow-squalls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> were frequent, +winds were high and rains were cold and sleety.</p> + +<p>Joshua had been urging the homeward journey for several days, but the +men were loath to go, until now, a more severe bit of weather had +persuaded them. Even as they sat round the fire, with storm coats drawn +high up around their ears, the sleet-squalls drove against their faces +and the gale howled among the snowy trees.</p> + +<p>Peter loved the life, the outdoor days and tented nights, but his mind +once made up to leave, his volatile spirit turned toward home.</p> + +<p>"A couple of days more staving round in the snowdrifts and I'll be +ready," he announced, and Joshua began to pack up.</p> + +<p>The guide growled a little at the reluctance of his party to start.</p> + +<p>"You men wait too long, and you'll be sorry," he warned. "This wind +won't only let up for a little spell at a time,—mostly it'll blow like +somethin' let loose! And if a big snow comes,—and it's likely +to,—we'll be in a fix."</p> + +<p>"Now, now, old man," began Shelby, "don't growl. We've been a pretty +good sort, haven't we? We're going home, aren't we? Why croak at us?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right, sir, but meantime this Northwest wind keeps up its +force, and—well, it means business."</p> + +<p>"All right, we'll get the better of its business<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> deal," prophesied +Peter, and he and Blair went off for a hike.</p> + +<p>As they started, the sun shone clear, and though the temperature was +below thirty, the two men strode along, happy with sheer physical joy of +living.</p> + +<p>"This is the life!" said Peter, flapping his arms, and watching his +breath congeal in frosty clouds.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Blair agreed, "to a certain point——"</p> + +<p>"Freezing point?"</p> + +<p>"I guess that's right! I like it all as well as you do, but it's nicest +when the sun shines. And by Jiminy, she's clouding over again!"</p> + +<p>Clouds meant cold,—a raw, penetrating chill that seemed to strike to +the marrow, and the pair were glad to turn back toward camp.</p> + +<p>"What do you think most about, when you think of home?" asked Blair, +idly.</p> + +<p>"Carly Harper," replied Peter, speaking from the fullness of his heart.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! So do I!" exclaimed Blair, his tone that of surprise only.</p> + +<p>Peter turned and looked at him. "Not a chance for you, old chap," he +said. "Little Carly is waiting for me. Yeo, ho, lads, ho,—Yeo, ho!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say! Really?" Blair's consternation was almost comic.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir! Fair warning,—keep off!"</p> + +<p>"Engaged?"</p> + +<p>"Same as."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Meaning she hasn't said a positive yes?"</p> + +<p>"Meaning that, if you like."</p> + +<p>"Then it's fair field and no favor! We're too good friends to +misunderstand, but let's call it a case of may the best man win."</p> + +<p>"All right, but I'll win and you can be best man at the wedding, how's +that?" Peter's eyes shone with good humor, and his happy face left Blair +little room for doubt as to Peter's own view of the case. What Carly +herself thought was another matter.</p> + +<p>But the two were too good friends to quarrel, and moreover, each knew +the other too well to mistrust him for a minute. It would, indeed, be a +fair field where they were concerned.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you'd gone so far," said Blair, ruefully, "of course, +there's no chance for me."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," returned Peter, cheerfully. "But when we get back we'll +soon find out."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps find out that she's 'gone with a handsomer man,'" suggested +Blair.</p> + +<p>"Not impossible. I suppose there are such."</p> + +<p>But a disinterested observer, looking at Peter's fine, strong face, with +its radiant coloring, brought out by the sharp air, might not have +agreed.</p> + +<p>And then conversation became abstract, for the wind rose to a piercing +gale and it was all they could do to keep their balance and fight their +way along.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I said this here wind was bound to ease up some time and it has," said +Joshua, with decided<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> satisfaction, the morning of the start for home. +"We ought to make good goin' to-day, and maybe get ahead of our own +schedule."</p> + +<p>"That's the trick," said Shelby, "always get ahead of your own schedule, +and you're bound to succeed. Come on, Peter, here we go."</p> + +<p>The leave-taking was a bit silent, for all three had become attached to +the camp, and they gave long farewell glances backward.</p> + +<p>Then off they went, and throwing sentiment aside, turned their thoughts +and their talk to the coming journey.</p> + +<p>For home was yet a long way off. Many days' traveling before they +reached the mail boat and then many more before they could lift New York +Harbor.</p> + +<p>"And I'm glad of it," declared Peter. "The longer we are on the home +stretch, the better I'll be pleased."</p> + +<p>"Granting we don't miss the boat," added Blair. "When I start out I want +to arrive."</p> + +<p>It was about three days later that a big storm set in. Relentlessly it +blew and snowed and the gales were almost unbreastable.</p> + +<p>"Don't dare stop," said Joshua, in his usual laconic way; "the winter's +set in, and any day may be worse'n the day before. Old Merk is down to +twenty-four, and we want to peg ahead,—that's what we want to do."</p> + +<p>They did,—by day,—and by night they enjoyed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> the rest and warmth of +camp, but still, Joshua urged them ahead continually.</p> + +<p>He parceled out longer days and shorter nights, until even strong Peter +began to feel the strain.</p> + +<p>Shelby was of a wiry sort, and stood hard going well; Blair was a +patient, plodding nature and wouldn't have complained if he had dropped +in his tracks; but Peter was impulsive and impatient, and he growled +frankly.</p> + +<p>"We'll get there, Eli," he said to the guide; "don't hustle us so."</p> + +<p>"Got to do it, Mr. Crane. I know more about this here winter that's +closing in on us, than you do. It's a bit early, but it's sure!"</p> + +<p>So on they went, through snow that was wet and heavy, through icy sleet +that stung and cut their faces, through roaring winds that choked their +lungs, but full of indomitable courage and perseverance and of +unimpaired good nature.</p> + +<p>And yet a week of this traveling at last began to tell on their +<i>morale</i>. Not that they grew testy or irritable, but the silences were +longer, the repartee less gay, and even buoyant Peter's spirits drooped +a little.</p> + +<p>Joshua then took a turn as comforter.</p> + +<p>"The worst'll soon be over," he reassured them. "Two days will get us to +Big Lake, and once we finish that, we'll be well on our way."</p> + +<p>So on they pushed, heavily laden, traveling slowly, but all well and +sound in wind and limb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was the middle of October, when a bright sunny day beamed on them and +their spirits rose in consequence.</p> + +<p>But Joshua did not smile. "Weather breeder," he said, laconically, and +looked gloomy.</p> + +<p>The others knew better than to call him a pessimist, for when Joshua +predicted weather, it came.</p> + +<p>And come it did. Not a squall; there was little if any wind, but a +snowfall. A steady, straight down snow that was so thick, so dense, they +could scarce see one another's forms.</p> + +<p>"Keep a-going," directed Joshua; "and for the land's sake, don't get far +apart. Stay close together, single trail, and close!"</p> + +<p>Thus they went on, the guide first, then Shelby, then Blair, then Peter. +There was no reason for the order they took, it merely happened that it +was so.</p> + +<p>They kept close, as directed, but the going was hard. If one stumbled, +one must recover quickly and hasten ahead not to lose sight of the +others.</p> + +<p>And the snow continued. Soft, white, feathery flakes, more and more +thickly falling every moment. Joshua plowed ahead, the others followed, +and each had all he could do to keep his eyes clear enough to see the +man in front.</p> + +<p>Which is how it happened that when Peter stumbled and fell, and found +himself unable to rise, the others had no knowledge of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>As the big man went down, he essayed to rise quickly, but his right leg +refused to move.</p> + +<p>"Broken!" he said to himself, as one noting a trivial occurrence. +"Queer, to break a leg, falling in a bed of soft snow!"</p> + +<p>But that was exactly what he had done, and realizing it, he set up a +yell that would have made a North American Indian envy its force and +volume.</p> + +<p>But for all the good it did, it might as well have been a whisper. The +wind, though not violent, was against him, and carried the sound away +from the plodding travelers. His friends could not hear it. Not looking +back, as indeed, they had no thought of doing, they did not miss their +fallen comrade and on they toiled, ignorant of the fact that they were +three instead of four now.</p> + +<p>And Peter,—big, strong Peter Crane,—brave, intrepid Peter Boots,—sat +there in the furious snowstorm, unable to rise, but with brain and mind +vividly alive to what had happened.</p> + +<p>Quick of thought, always, he now traced with lightning rapidity, just +what the future held for him—and such a short future, at +that—unless——</p> + +<p>His only hope lay in his lung power.</p> + +<p>He yelled, screamed, whistled, hooted, and put all of his strength and +nerve force in his desperate efforts to reach the ears of his comrades.</p> + +<p>But it was impossible. The cruel wind drove his voice away from those it +was meant to reach, the snowflakes filled his open mouth as he shouted; +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> as hope failed, strength failed and Peter faced his fate.</p> + +<p>Strong, able-bodied, save for the broken leg, he tried to crawl along. +The result was pitiful, for he merely floundered in the deep mass of +soft whiteness. His share of the luggage was heavy packs, nothing of +which he could make a flag of distress or even build a fire. He felt for +his matches, and lighting a cigarette, waved it aloft, almost smiling at +his tiny beacon.</p> + +<p>Then came despair. His mind seemed to grow more alert as his body was +overcome by the cold. His blood boiled, even as it froze in his veins. +He felt abnormally acute of intellect, and plead with himself to think +of something,—to invent something that would save his life.</p> + +<p>Yet he knew there was no hope. The fast-falling snow obliterated all +tracks almost instantly. Even though the others missed him, they could +never find him, and,—this thought struck a new chill through his +veins,—in a short time the snowfall would even obliterate him!</p> + +<p>What a death! Helpless; unable even to meet it standing, he must lie +there, and let the snow bury him alive!</p> + +<p>He could maintain a half-sitting posture,—but what use? Why not lie +down flat and get it over quickly? Yet he must hold on as long as +possible, for the men might come back,—he began to think what they +would do—but, he was sure they would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> not miss him until too late to do +anything. If the snow would only let up. It was such a pity to have his +whereabouts hidden by a foolish fall of snow! As Peter grew colder he +grew calmer. His senses mercifully became numbed at last, and as the +actual moment of his freezing to death came nearer and nearer, he cared +less and less. A state of coma is a blessing to many dying men, and into +this state Peter gently drifted, even as the snow drifted over and +covered his stiff, silent form.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And his friends trudged on; not that it could be called +trudging,—rather, they plodded, stumbled, pitched, fought and merely +achieved progress by blindly plunging ahead.</p> + +<p>It was nearly a half hour after Peter's fall that Blair, accidentally +turned round by a gust of wind, called out an exasperated "Halloo!" +which gained no response.</p> + +<p>"Halloo!" he repeated, "Peter! how goes it?"</p> + +<p>Still no return call, and Blair called to those ahead.</p> + +<p>They turned, and, huddling together in the storm, they looked at one +another with scared faces.</p> + +<p>"I warned you to keep close together," began Joshua, but forbore to +chide, as he saw the dumb agony in the eyes of the other two men.</p> + +<p>"Turn back," said Shelby, "and quickly. How long do you suppose he has +been gone? Has he missed the track? What happened, Joshua?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He must have fallen," the guide replied. "Or maybe just strayed off, +blinded by the snow, and he's wandering around yet. He has a compass and +he knows where to head for. Small use our trying to turn back and find +him. He's 'way off by this time,—or, maybe, he ain't. Maybe he's close +behind,—we couldn't see him ten yards off in this snow."</p> + +<p>"I never saw such a thickness of white!" exclaimed Blair. "I've heard +that when snow is so white and feathery, it doesn't last long."</p> + +<p>"This snow does," returned Joshua, "and I tell you, Mr. Shelby, there's +no use turning back. We'd just waste our time,—maybe our lives——"</p> + +<p>"But, man, we can't go without Crane!" Shelby cried. "I won't go on and +leave him to his fate!"</p> + +<p>"'Tain't likely he's in any real danger," said Joshua, almost believing +his own statement. "If it was one of you two, now, I'd feel more +alarmed. But Mr. Crane,—he's got a head on him, and a compass, and he +knows the route we're taking,—he went over it with me before we +started. Lord knows I'd be the first one to go to his rescue, if it was +rescue he needed, but I don't think it is."</p> + +<p>"Rescue or not," said Blair, "I will not go on without Peter. You two do +what you like. I'm going to turn back and hunt for him."</p> + +<p>"So am I," declared Shelby, and the two turned to face the backward +trail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All foolishness," muttered Joshua, "but of course, I'll go along."</p> + +<p>It was all foolishness, there was no doubt of that. The snow had covered +all signs of their own tracks, there was no road to follow, no landmarks +to go by. Though Joshua had pursued his route by compass, he could not +retrace it surely enough to find a lost man.</p> + +<p>However, they persisted; they dashed at snow-covered mounds only to find +them hummocks or rocks. They hallooed and shouted; they stared into the +snowy distance, hoping to discern smoke; but though their big, strong +Peter was less than half a mile away from them, they could get no hint +of his presence.</p> + +<p>Night came on. They built their camp fire of enormous dimensions, hoping +against hope that it might attract the lost man.</p> + +<p>None slept, save for a few fitful dozes from sheer exhaustion and grief. +Joshua stolidly insisted that Peter was undoubtedly all right, and +though they could scarcely believe it, this comforted the other two.</p> + +<p>Next morning they held council. Joshua was all for going on and giving +up the search for Crane.</p> + +<p>Blair, too, felt it a useless waste of time to remain, but Shelby begged +for a few hours.</p> + +<p>"If the storm abates just a little——" he began.</p> + +<p>"It won't," declared Joshua. "It's a little mite less windy but this +snowfall's only just begun. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> won't quit for days,—lessen it turns to +rain,—and then the goin''ll be a heap worse."</p> + +<p>It didn't seem as if the going could be much worse. Already the men had +difficulty in moving because of their wet, half-frozen clothing. +Available wood was buried under the snow, their strength was becoming +impaired, and all things pointed to even worse weather conditions.</p> + +<p>Reluctantly Shelby and Blair agreed to Joshua's plans, realizing that +Peter might be all right and on his homeward journey, and further delay +might result in their own loss of life. For the outlook was menacing, +and Joshua's knowledge and advice were sincere and authoritative.</p> + +<p>And still it snowed. Steadily, persistently, uninterruptedly. There +seemed a permanency about that soft, downward moving mass that foreboded +danger and defeat to any one who remained to dare it further.</p> + +<p>And so they started again, half glad to go, half unwilling to leave. It +was the terrible uncertainty that told on them. They shrank from facing +the thought of what it would mean if they didn't find Peter, and forced +themselves to believe that they would meet him.</p> + +<p>Their objective point was a trapper's log house on the shore of the +lake.</p> + +<p>They reached it, tired, footsore, but full of hope for good news. A +quick glance round the tiny interior,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> consisting of but two rooms, +showed no smiling-faced Peter.</p> + +<p>A few words from Joshua to the trappers gave no cause for rejoicing, and +further conversation and explanation revealed the fact that the +experienced trappers had no doubt as to Peter's fate.</p> + +<p>Nor did they blame Joshua in any way. Had he stayed for a longer search, +they averred, there would have been four dead men instead of one.</p> + +<p>And then both Shelby and Blair realized that Joshua's expressed +hopefulness of finding Peter safe at the end of their journey was merely +by way of urging them to move on, knowing the result if they did not.</p> + +<p>They also realized that he was right. The opinions and assertions of the +experienced trappers could not be gainsaid. The two came to know that +there was but one fate that could have overtaken their comrade and that +there was no hope possible.</p> + +<p>If Shelby had a slight feeling that Blair ought to have looked back +oftener, he gave it no voice, for he knew he himself had never looked +back with any idea of watching over Blair. To be sure the last one of +the four was in the most dangerous position, but Peter had come last by +mere chance, and no one had given that point a thought.</p> + +<p>They surmised something must have disabled him. Perhaps a cramp or a +fainting spell of exhaustion. But it was necessarily only surmise, and +one theory was as tenable as another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>Long parleys were held by Blair and Shelby as to what was best to be +done. It proved to be impossible to persuade any one to start on a +search for the body of Crane. The winter had set in and it was a +hopeless task to undertake in the snows of the wild. No, they were told, +not until March at the earliest, could a search be undertaken, and there +was small chance of finding the body until later spring melted the snow. +It was to be an especially bad winter, all agreed, and no pleas, bribes +or threats of the men could move the natives from their decision.</p> + +<p>Then, they debated, should they go home, or wait till spring?</p> + +<p>The latter plan seemed foolish, for it was now nearly November and to +wait there idly for five or six months was appalling. Moreover, it +seemed their duty to go home and report Peter's loss to his father, even +if they returned in the spring to search for the body of their chum.</p> + +<p>The last boat left for Newfoundland the middle of November, and they +concluded that if there was no news of Peter by that time they would +sail on it. "I feel cowardly to go," said Shelby, whose brain was weary, +working out the problem of duty. "Yet, why stay?"</p> + +<p>"It's right to go," Blair said, gravely. "You see, Mr. Crane must be +<i>told</i>,—not written to."</p> + +<p>"One of us might go,—and one stay," Shelby suggested.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No use in that," Blair said, after a moment's consideration; "the +remaining one couldn't do anything."</p> + +<p>"You men talk foolishness," said Joshua, gravely. "Mr. Peter Crane is by +this time buried under eight feet of snow. You can do nothing. You'd +both better go home."</p> + +<p>So they went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>The Prophecy Recalled</h3> + +<p>The steamer from Newfoundland that brought Shelby and Blair to New York +arrived during Christmas week.</p> + +<p>The two men, however, were far from feeling holiday cheer as they +reached the wharf and faced the hard trial of telling Mr. and Mrs. Crane +of their son's death.</p> + +<p>But it had to be done, and they felt it their duty to lose no time in +performing the sad errand.</p> + +<p>No one met them at the steamer, for its hour of arrival was uncertain +and they had discouraged their friends from the attempt.</p> + +<p>Indeed only telegrams from Newfoundland had apprised any one of their +arrival, for letters would have come by the same boat they came +themselves.</p> + +<p>"Let's go straight to the Cranes' and get it over," said Blair; with a +sigh. "I dread the ordeal."</p> + +<p>"So do I," Shelby confessed. "I wish we could see Mr. Crane alone, +first."</p> + +<p>"We must do that, of course. It's only eight o'clock, and we're ready to +start now. Come ahead."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>They sent their luggage to their homes and took a taxi for the Crane +town house, on upper Park Avenue.</p> + +<p>By good fortune, Mr. Crane was at home and received them in his library. +They had asked to see him alone, giving no names.</p> + +<p>"My stars, if it isn't the wanderers returned!" exclaimed their host, as +he entered and saw the two. "Where's my boy? Hiding behind the window +curtain?"</p> + +<p>But the expression on his visitors' faces suddenly checked his speech, +and turning pale, Benjamin Crane dropped into the nearest chair.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he whispered, in a shaking voice. "I know it's bad news. +Is Peter——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Shelby, gently, but feeling that the shortest statement was +most merciful. "The Labrador got him."</p> + +<p>By a strange locution, Labrador, as we call it, is spoken of up there as +The Labrador, and the phrase gives a sinister sound to the name. It +personifies it, and makes it seem like a living menace, a sentient +danger.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it," said Benjamin Crane, and his tense, strained voice +told more of his grief than any outburst could have done.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Lost in the snow! My little Peter Boots——" he said, after he had +listened in silence to their broken recital. "Tell me more," he urged, +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> eagerly drank in any details they could give him of the tragedy and +also of the doings of the party before that last, fatal day.</p> + +<p>Blair looked at him in secret amazement. How could the man take it so +calmly? But Shelby, a deeper student of human character, understood how +the fearful shock of tragedy had stunned the loving father-heart. Slowly +and quietly, Shelby related many incidents of the trip, drew word +pictures of Peter in his gayest moods, told tales of his courage, +bravery and unfailing good spirits.</p> + +<p>But, though these things interested Crane and held his attention, there +was no way to lessen the poignant sorrow of the last story,—the account +of the terrible storm and the awful fate of Peter.</p> + +<p>Shelby broke down, and Blair finished, with a few broken sentences.</p> + +<p>The deep grief of the two, the sincere love of Peter and sorrow at his +death proved better than protestations that they had done all mortal +effort could do.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure, sir," Shelby said, finally, "that we acted wisely, but +it seemed the only course to take. We could not persuade any one to go +for us or with us in search of Peter's body, until March at the +earliest. To go alone, was mere suicide, and though I was tempted to do +even that, rather than to return without him, it would not have been +allowed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I understand perfectly," Crane said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> quickly, "I wouldn't have had +you do otherwise than just as you did. There was no use trying the +impossible."</p> + +<p>"But we will return in March——" began Blair.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Crane, a little preoccupied in manner, "or I will send a +search party myself. There's no reason you boys should go."</p> + +<p>This was a real relief, for though more than willing, the two men were +far from anxious to undertake the gruesome errand.</p> + +<p>"And now," their host went on, "if you agree, I'll send for Mrs. Crane. +At first, I thought I'd rather tell her the news when we were by +ourselves,—but, I know there are questions she will want to ask you, +things that I might not think of,—and I know you'll be willing to +answer her."</p> + +<p>All unconscious of the scene awaiting her, Mrs. Crane came into the +room.</p> + +<p>A bewildered look on her sweet, placid face showed her inability to +grasp the situation quickly.</p> + +<p>Then, "Why, boys," she cried, "when did you come home? Where's Peter?"</p> + +<p>To the others' relief Benjamin Crane told his wife of their mutual loss. +Very gently he told her, very lovingly he held her hand and comforted +her crushed and breaking heart. Shelby and Blair instinctively turned +aside from the pitiful scene and waited to be again addressed.</p> + +<p>At length Mrs. Crane turned her tear-stained face to them. Not so calm +as her husband, she begged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> for details, then she wept and sobbed so +hysterically she could scarcely hear them. Her thoughts flew back to the +years when Peter was a lad, a child, a baby,—and her talk of him became +almost incoherent.</p> + +<p>"There, there, dear," Benjamin Crane said, smoothing her hair, "try to +be quieter,—you will make yourself ill. Perhaps, boys, you'd better go +now, and come round again to-morrow evening."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried Mrs. Crane; "stay longer,—tell me more. Tell me +everything he said or did,—all the time you were gone. Did he know he +was going to die?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Mrs. Crane," Shelby assured her. "It was an accident, you see. +The storm was beyond anything you can imagine. The wind was not only icy +and cutting, but of a sharp viciousness that made it impossible to hear +or to see. Almost impossible to walk. We merely struggled blindly +against it,—<i>against</i> it, you understand, so that if Peter, who was +behind, had called out, we could not have heard him."</p> + +<p>"Why was he last?" demanded Mrs. Crane.</p> + +<p>"It happened so," replied Shelby. "I've tried hard to think if we were +to blame for that,—but I cannot see that we were. Whenever we walked +single file, we fell into line in any order. The subject never was +mentioned or thought of. And so, that day, Peter was the last one. If +Blair or I had fallen or been overcome by the cold,—which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> is what we +know must have happened,—we would have been seen by Peter, of course. +But when he gave out, no one looked backward."</p> + +<p>"You had been trudging like that long?" asked Crane.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, for hours. We were all pretty nearly all in, but Joshua +wouldn't let us stop,—dared not, in fact, for he knew the danger of +that storm far better than we did. No, Mr. Crane, on the part of Blair +and myself, I want to say that we had no thought other than our +individual progress. That was all any one could think of, as Peter +himself would say if he could speak."</p> + +<p>"He has spoken," returned Crane, quietly; "he did say it."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed the two men together.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the older man went on; "I think I will tell you, though I had +half decided not to: What do you say, Mother?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crane looked up. Her expression of dumb despair gave way to a look +of quiet peace as she said, slowly: "Yes, dear, tell them. But let it be +held confidential."</p> + +<p>"You'll promise that, boys, won't you?" asked Crane, and only half +understanding Blair and Shelby promised.</p> + +<p>"Well, it was this way," Crane began, "You know we couldn't get letters +from you chaps all the time you were away,—except the few early ones. +Of course we knew that before you went, but we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> didn't realize how +lonely we would be without Peter Boots. Whenever he has been away before +we could hear from him frequently. Julie is a dear girl, but she is a +busy little butterfly, and many a time my wife and I are alone of an +evening."</p> + +<p>"And we're happy enough together," Mrs. Crane put in, gently; "but being +alone, we naturally talked a great deal of Peter, and—and we couldn't +help remembering the Gypsy's warning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd forgotten that!" exclaimed Blair. "What was it, now?"</p> + +<p>"A prophecy that Peter would go on a long journey, and would meet with a +terrible death. Now, the prophecy is fulfilled." Mrs. Crane's face, as +she gazed upward, her eyes filled with tears, was like that of a seeress +or prophetess. She appeared exalted, and unconscious of her grief for +the moment.</p> + +<p>"And there was further prophecy," Benjamin Crane continued, "that after +his death, Peter would return. And when I say he has done so, I expect +you to respect my story and not to doubt its truth."</p> + +<p>"We shall most certainly respect your story, and no one could doubt your +veracity, Mr. Crane," said Shelby, sincerely, though with a mental +reservation that believing in Benjamin Crane's veracity did not +necessarily mean subscribing to his hallucinations.</p> + +<p>Blair's face showed his interest and curiosity, and Benjamin Crane went +on with the tale to a breathlessly absorbed audience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It did come about, I've no doubt, because of our talks of Peter; and +also, because we chanced to hear of some neighbors who had wonderful +success with a Ouija Board."</p> + +<p>A sudden, involuntary exclamation on the part of Blair was immediately +suppressed by a warning glance from Shelby. It would never do to show +scorn of the Ouija Board and all its works in the presence of this +afflicted couple. If any comfort from its use had reached them or could +reach them, it must be a blessing indeed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Crane said, catching the meaning of the look on Blair's face, "I +know how you feel about such things, but just reserve judgment until you +hear our experiences. We bought a Board, and mother and I tried to use +it alone. We had no success at all. It would spell nothing +coherent,—only meaningless jumbles of letters,—or simply refuse to +move. Of course, you understand, we had no thought that our boy was—was +in any danger,—but we had been told that sometimes living persons +communicated by such means. So we persevered, but we never got a +message."</p> + +<p>"Then what happened?" asked Blair, eagerly, seeing from the faces of the +older people that something had.</p> + +<p>"Why then," Mrs. Crane spoke now,—"we found somebody to help us. I'd +rather not tell the name,—it was a lady——"</p> + +<p>"A medium?" asked Shelby.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I mean, not a professional medium,—a lady we've known for +years. She had had some experience with the Board, and she tried it with +us. And then,—you tell it, father."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mr. Crane, speaking very seriously, "then we got a message +from Peter. The message said that he had died in the snow."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Shelby, "incredible! When was this?"</p> + +<p>"In November."</p> + +<p>"Peter died the seventeenth of October."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it was the tenth of November that we had the message."</p> + +<p>"Just what did it say?" asked Blair, his eyes wide with amazement.</p> + +<p>"It was a little stammering and uncertain, as if hard to get it through. +But the Ouija spelled out Peter's name, and when she—Miss—when the +lady with us asked if it had a message from Peter, it pointed to 'yes.' +Then she tried to get the message. But the words were a little mixed up. +There was <i>snow</i> and <i>ice</i> and <i>storm</i> and at last the word <i>dead</i>. When +we asked if Peter had died in a snowstorm the Board said yes. So, we +knew the prophecy was fulfilled at last. The news you brought us was +corroboration, not a surprise."</p> + +<p>Shelby restrained himself by an effort. His sharp glance at Blair made +him keep quiet also. Neither was at all impressed at the story Crane +told them, except to be moved to ridicule. Well they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> knew how a Ouija +Board will make glib statements as startling as they are untrue.</p> + +<p>But this one happened to be true. Even so, the fact of its relation by +such means was unbelievable to both the hearers.</p> + +<p>Yet, they could not disturb the faith of the parents of their lost chum.</p> + +<p>"I am glad, for your sakes, that you had a premonitory warning," said +Shelby, in all sincerity. "Such things are indeed beyond our ken. Did +you get any further details?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Crane; "but, I learn, you have no further details yourselves. +My boy perished in the snowstorm, alone and helpless. What more is there +to know?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing that we could tell," spoke up Blair, a little excitedly, "but +surely, the spirit of Peter,—if it was he speaking to you,—could have +told more!"</p> + +<p>"It is clear you have had no experience in these matters," Crane said, +mildly; "the messages are not easy to get, nor are they concise and +clear, like a telegram. Only occasionally does one get through, and then +if it is informative we are duly grateful,—and not dissatisfied and +clamoring for more."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Mr. Crane; I am inexperienced, but I assure you I am +not a scoffer. And of course, I believe your statements."</p> + +<p>"Of course!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> crisply. "Surely we would +not invent such a story!"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," said Shelby. "It is strange, you must admit. Have you had +any further communications from Peter?"</p> + +<p>"A few," Mr. Crane spoke a bit reluctantly, for he could see that the +men were receptive from a motive of politeness, and not with sympathetic +interest. "He has sent other messages, but they would not, I fear, +convince you."</p> + +<p>"Now, don't blame us, Mr. Crane," Blair broke out, impetuously; +"remember, we're just from the place where we left Peter,—remember, we +love him, too,—and remember, if we could be convinced that he had +spoken we would be as interested as you are."</p> + +<p>"Well put, my boy," and Crane seemed greatly mollified. "Now, merely as +an admission of facts, do you believe that the Ouija Board gave the +messages exactly as I have detailed the proceedings to you?"</p> + +<p>"I do," said Blair, "that is, I believe you have told the exact truth of +what you observed."</p> + +<p>"Then, can you refuse to believe that the message came from the spirit +of my dead boy? Who else knew of his death? How could any one know of +it?"</p> + +<p>"True enough," and Blair shook his head, noncommittally.</p> + +<p>Crane sighed. "You don't believe," he said, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> without annoyance. +"Yet, remember, greater minds and wiser brains than yours believe. Are +not you a little presumptuous to set your opinion against theirs?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to be presumptuous, Mr. Crane," Blair spoke decidedly, +"but I do think my opinion on this subject as good as any man's."</p> + +<p>"Then you are condemning the matter, unheard, which you will allow is +not strictly just."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Blair," said Shelby, distressed at his attitude, "don't +discuss things of which you know nothing. Mr. Crane has gone deeply into +the subject and must know more about it than we do." He gave Blair a +positive glance of reproof, and tried to make him see that he must stop +combating their host's theories, if only for reasons of common +politeness.</p> + +<p>"But I'm interested," persisted Blair. "If Peter came here and told his +father he was dead,— I want to look into these things. You see, it's +the first time I've ever been up against a real case of this sort. Own +up, Shelby, it's all mighty queer."</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane looked kindly at Blair. "That's the talk, my boy. If +you're really interested, come round some night, and with you here, +Peter may talk through, all the better."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" Shelby thought, silently, but aloud, he only said:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Blair, do that. And drop the subject for the present. Is Julie at +home, Mrs. Crane?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; she's away for a few days. Poor child, she will be heartbroken. She +adored Peter Boots," and Mrs. Crane again gave way to tears.</p> + +<p>"What does Julie think about the messages?" asked Blair, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"We didn't tell her," said Crane. "She's so emotional, and—well, of +course, we couldn't help hoping that it mightn't be true. And, too, +Julie hates all talk of spiritism."</p> + +<p>"Sensible girl!" thought Shelby, as Mrs. Crane was saying:</p> + +<p>"But Julie went to Sir Rowland's lectures and she was deeply +interested."</p> + +<p>"Lectures?" asked Blair.</p> + +<p>"Yes; there have been a great many this season. I'm sorry you had to +miss them. They're over now. But I can't see how any one could listen to +that delightful man talk on such subjects in his beautiful way and not +be convinced of the truth of it all."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked Shelby.</p> + +<p>"That's too big a question to be answered in a sentence," and Crane +smiled a little, "but he gave us incontrovertible proof that the spirits +of the dead return and communicate with their friends who are still on +earth."</p> + +<p>"Through a Ouija Board?" Blair inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and by actual manifestation as well. I've never consulted a real +medium, but now that I know Peter is gone, I shall do so."</p> + +<p>"Don't!" Shelby said, quite involuntarily. Then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> seeing the look in +Crane's eyes, he added: "Forgive me, sir, I have no right to advise. But +I've been told that all professional mediums are frauds."</p> + +<p>"We are told many things,—both for and against," returned Crane, "but +if Sir Rowland is willing to consult them, and believes in them, I'm +ready to sail under his flag."</p> + +<p>"Of course. And you've a perfect right to do so." Shelby felt he +couldn't control his real opinions much longer, and wanted to go. "May I +come to see you again, soon,—and talk over the matters of Peter's +things,—which, of course, we brought home? And, I'd like to see Julie."</p> + +<p>"She'll be home by to-morrow evening. Of course, we'll send for her. And +I know she'll want to see you both. Perhaps not just at first, but after +a few days. Please come to the house whenever you will,—just as you +used to do."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," added Mrs. Crane, her lip quivering at the remembrance of the +old days when the boys were jolly together.</p> + +<p>"And Miss Harper, how is she?" asked Blair, who had been longing to put +the question for some time.</p> + +<p>"Well, as usual," replied Mrs. Crane. "She was here last night. She——"</p> + +<p>"She's a dear girl," Crane interrupted his wife, and a peculiar look +crossed his face. "You come round soon again, boys, but I fear we must +let you go now. My wife is keeping up bravely, but——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> he glanced at +the little woman tenderly, and took her hand in his. "And I, too, don't +feel like talking more now. So good-night,—and, thank you for all your +good comradeship with my boy,—my Peter Boots."</p> + +<p>"We want sympathy, too, Mr. Crane," said Blair; "Peter was very dear to +us both. We're not given to spilling over, but we have lost a dear +friend and chum whose place can never be filled by another."</p> + +<p>"Right!" said Shelby, in a choked voice, and his handclasp with Peter's +father said the rest.</p> + +<p>But once on the street his exasperation broke forth in words. "I can +stand any sort of idiots," he said, "except spook idiots! They make me +want to go back to the Labrador!"</p> + +<p>"Sort of queer, though, that message,—from Peter——"</p> + +<p>"From Peter—nothing! Don't desecrate that boy's memory by even an +implication that he'd fiddle with a Ouija Board! Ugh!"</p> + +<p>"How do you explain it, then?"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to explain."</p> + +<p>"You think Crane,—er—misstated?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think he thought he had a message,—but he was duped. They all +are. I know all about that Sir Rowland. I've read his books. He's dotty +on the subject. Keep off the rocks, Blair. You've a leaning that way, +and if you don't look out you'll fall for it, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wonder why Mr. Crane shut his wife up when she started to say something +about Carly Harper."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was nothing particular. Anyway, you can see Carly for +yourself. I expect she'll be hard hit by Peter's death. They were +practically engaged."</p> + +<p>"How'd you know?"</p> + +<p>"Peter told me,—not in words, bless his heart! He just let it out when +he was in a babbling mood. I mean, he let fall side remarks, and I just +gathered the truth. I didn't tell him I knew. Open-hearted as he was, +Peter was reserved in some ways."</p> + +<p>"Dear old chap, so he was. Our great work will never materialize now. +Unless I write it alone. I'd like to do that,—and publish it over both +our names, and explain in a preface."</p> + +<p>"Do," said Shelby; "it would please the old people a lot."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>Madame Parlato</h3> + +<p>Blair's first interview with Carly Harper was painful for both. The +Cranes had told her of Peter's death, but the sight of Blair seemed to +bring home to the girl a further and more vivid realization of her loss.</p> + +<p>"I wish now I'd been kinder to him," she said, her voice quivering.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now, Carly, I know you weren't unkind."</p> + +<p>"No; but I wouldn't—wouldn't do what he asked me——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear; I think I know what you mean, and, let me tell you, +old Peter was happy enough—about you. He seemed pretty sure that things +were coming his way."</p> + +<p>"Of course," the girl said frankly. "I only wanted him to go away, free, +and then if he still wanted me when he came back—and now he'll never +come back!" she gave way to silent weeping.</p> + +<p>"His parents say he has come back," offered Blair, more by way of +diversion than comfort.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>Carly looked up quickly. "They told you that?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, told me pretty much all about their 'messages.' Foolishness, of +course, but it seems to comfort them."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't comfort me," and Carly sighed. "I don't believe in it, you +see." And she looked at him with a curious glance.</p> + +<p>"No; I don't either. But the old people do, and if it helps them bear +their grief,—why——"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I understand. How—how much did they tell you?"</p> + +<p>"All, I suppose. They said some medium,—well, not a professional, but +some friend of theirs,—helped them to get messages 'through,' as they +call it."</p> + +<p>"Didn't they tell you who the friend was?"</p> + +<p>"No; but they weren't mysterious about it. They simply didn't say. I +believe Julie doesn't like to have them try it,—the Ouija, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she feels as I do,—as anybody must,—if they like it let them have +it. She went to the lectures."</p> + +<p>"Everybody did, it seems."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the whole town went crazy on the subject. Is yet, but not quite to +the same extent."</p> + +<p>"The war brought it all about, of course. After a short time, the fad +will die out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if it is a fad. But,—do you never think there may be a grain of +truth in it all?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I haven't seen the grain yet, but I'm open to conviction."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I've no intention of trying to convince you. Tell me all +about your trip,—tell me all the queer experiences you had, and +everything you can think of. And tell me lots about Peter."</p> + +<p>Blair did her bidding. He described their life in the Labrador, told of +their exploits and discomforts and also of the glorious outdoor days and +nights that were so enjoyed by them all.</p> + +<p>"I'd love it!" Carly declared. "Oh, not all the tramping and portaging, +but the camp life."</p> + +<p>"Better try it nearer home. The Adirondacks would give you enough +excitement. There's no use braving that cold up there, and those fierce +storms."</p> + +<p>"If it hadn't stormed, Peter wouldn't have been lost, would he?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not. You see, we've mulled it over and over. He must have +fallen and hurt himself in some way, or he would have followed us +somehow."</p> + +<p>"He would have called out."</p> + +<p>"That's the point. The wind was in our faces, it was a villainous blast, +and nothing any one said could be heard by one in front of him, unless +they were near each other. If Peter had shouted, the wind would have +carried his voice back and away from us. That is undoubtedly what +happened."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think the guide was greatly to blame?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; he had no reason to look back at us, as if we were sheep. We had +always followed his trail, there was to all appearances no difference +between this trip and any other. We had breasted equally severe storms, +and come home, laughing. I feel sure Peter met with an accident,—or, it +may be,—probably enough,—his strength suddenly gave out, or even his +heart went bad, or something like that. Perhaps he couldn't shout. I +blame myself, of course, for not looking back sooner, but I do honestly +feel that it was not a culpable omission."</p> + +<p>"Of course it wasn't! I see just how it was. Great, big, stalwart Peter +was not a baby to be looked after by you others. But—oh, Gilbert,—it's +so dreadful to think of his dying there alone! Perhaps he—he didn't die +right away——"</p> + +<p>"Don't, Carly! Try not to think about that. Think only that old Peter +Boots is gone,—that he lived a fine, clean, splendid life, and met his +end bravely, whatever happened. And, too, I'm told that he couldn't have +suffered much. He must have lost consciousness very quickly."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—I suppose so. But—oh, Gilbert, I didn't know how much I cared, +until—until I lost him."</p> + +<p>"I know, dear,—it's awful hard for you. Come on, get your hat and let's +go over to Julie's. I haven't seen her yet, and I promised to call +to-day."</p> + +<p>They went to the Cranes', and found Shelby already there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was tea hour, and several people were gathered about Julie's pretty +tea table.</p> + +<p>For the Crane family, though in mourning, received gladly the intimate +friends who had loved Peter, and who came, full of sympathy, to talk of +him.</p> + +<p>Julie received Blair with a warm welcome, but,—or at least so Blair +thought,—she was a little cool in her greeting to Carlotta.</p> + +<p>The two girls were pleasant enough, but there was an evident constraint +between them, and both turned quickly aside to talk to some one else.</p> + +<p>Blair pondered. He was by way of noting significant details and his own +interest in Carly Harper made him quick to resent any slight put upon +her. Not that Julie's attitude could be called really slighting, nor was +it more so than Carly's own, but there was some dissonance there.</p> + +<p>His observation, though veiled by a pleasant, general interest in +everything, was no less acute, and he continued to note that the girls +really avoided each other. It was none of his business, but he was +curious and surprised at a state of affairs so different from the +intimacy he had known them to enjoy of old.</p> + +<p>He bided his time, and at last, finding an opportunity, he spoke to +Julie alone. She still sat at the tea table, but all having been served, +she was idle and a little distrait.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to see you again, Gilbert," she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> at last, looking at him +through tearful eyes, "but it makes me think of Peter, and—oh, +talk,—or I shall go all to pieces!"</p> + +<p>Knowing Julie's emotional nature, Blair tactfully talked, telling +Peter's sister of trifling occurrences that were interesting in +themselves rather than of personal import. He succeeded in restoring her +calm and at last a chance allusion brought up Carly's name.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble between you two girls?" Blair asked, lightly.</p> + +<p>"Trouble? There isn't any," and Julie's blue eyes,—so like +Peter's,—looked straight at him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just a school-girl squabble, is it?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't anything," Julie persisted, "why do you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Julie Crane, you can't fool me. I'm a mind reader, and +I see there's a rift in the lute that you and Carly used to play duets +on."</p> + +<p>Julie smiled at the way he put it, and said, half unwillingly: "Well, +you see, Gilbert, Carly's a snake-in-the-grass."</p> + +<p>"What! Oh, I say, Julie, don't talk like that! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"She's underhanded, sly, deceitful, dishonest——"</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop! You're losing your mind! Suppose you let up on vituperation +and do a bit of explaining. What has Carly done to merit those terms?"</p> + +<p>"What has she done? She has come over here,—when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> I've been away,—and +stirred up father and mother with that silly, hateful, vicious old Ouija +Board performance,—that's what she's done!"</p> + +<p>"Ouija! Carly! Surely you're mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I'm not. Father and mother couldn't make the silly thing go at +all, till Carly helped them. She pushes it, of course,—and they are +gulled and duped——"</p> + +<p>"But, Julie, wait! Why should Carly do such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's got the fad. Lots of people have, you know. And I haven't—I +hate it all—and so Carly comes over when I'm not home."</p> + +<p>"And was it she who got the messages from Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was; that is, she pretended to."</p> + +<p>Blair was amazed. Carly had given him the impression that she didn't +believe in occult manifestations. Why should she do that, if she had +assisted at the Crane <i>séances</i>? He hated to think of Carlotta Harper as +insincere, but—he mused—that sort of thing tends to make people +insincere. He came to a quick decision that he would observe for himself +and not seek further enlightenment directly from either of the two +girls.</p> + +<p>So he only said, carelessly, "There's no accounting for the doings of +people who are obsessed by that sort of thing. But, look here, Julie, if +it is any comfort to your parents to think they have messages<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> from +Peter, you wouldn't disturb their belief, would you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't. That's why I don't have a real quarrel with Carly. I think +she knows I've discovered her part in it all, and I think she knows I +resent it; but, as you say, if it helps dear old dad and mother to bear +their grief, I'm willing they should wear out one Ouija Board after +another!"</p> + +<p>"Good girl. You attended the lectures, I hear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and they meant nothing to me. What was produced as evidence seemed +to me no evidence at all. I'd like your honest opinion, Gilbert."</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear the lectures."</p> + +<p>"But you can read the books. Sir Rowland has written several, and there +are hundreds of others. Do read some, and see if you can find anything +in them—anything at all that is conclusive proof."</p> + +<p>"Proof of what? Of continuity of existence?"</p> + +<p>"Not that, no. But proof that the spirits of the dead have ever +communicated with the living."</p> + +<p>It was during this conversation that Benjamin Crane came in. He was +evidently in a happy mood, his face was radiant and his fine features +glowed with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"I've had such an experience," he exclaimed. "I've had a <i>séance</i> with a +real medium——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!" Julie cried out, involuntarily, but he only smiled +benignly at her.</p> + +<p>"Just listen, Julie, dear. Reserve your comment till you hear it all. +Then we'll see."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>He drew his armchair nearer the fire and rubbed his hands to the blaze, +then settled back in comfort, taking the cup that Julie brought him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he went on, "a wonderful experience. You know," he looked +round, including all his hearers, for all present had drawn near to +listen, "you know I felt sure we had no real mediums here in America. +When Sir Rowland told of the trustworthy ones he has consulted in +England, I almost decided to go over there myself. But I heard of one +here in New York, and I investigated fully her credentials and +references before going to her. Truly, she is a marvel."</p> + +<p>"I thought they weren't allowed," observed Shelby, smiling a little.</p> + +<p>"'Not allowed' is sometimes a mere figure of speech," and Mr. Crane +smiled, too. "However, I was allowed to see her and have a real +<i>séance</i>—oh, Helen," he turned to his wife, "I can scarcely wait to go +there again and have you go with me."</p> + +<p>"Father, I can't stand this!" Julie's eyes were blazing. "Please drop +the subject—at least, for the present."</p> + +<p>"There, there, my daughter, don't lose your temper. If you don't want to +hear about this, you may be excused." He smiled at her lovingly but with +a decided intention.</p> + +<p>"You're all interested, are you not?" he went on, turning to the various +attentive faces, and receiving nods and words of assent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I'll go on," and he glanced at Julie, who sat still, controlling +her expression of face but with tumult in her heart.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy," Shelby whispered to her, "you'd better hear it, you +know, whatever it's all about."</p> + +<p>"The lady," Crane said, "is a medium, well recommended by members of the +Society for Psychical Research, and by individuals who have been her +clients."</p> + +<p>"What sort of recommendations does she offer?" asked an interested +voice, "letters?"</p> + +<p>The speaker was McClellan Thorpe, a friend of Blair's, who shared a +studio with him.</p> + +<p>Thorpe was frankly skeptical, but by no means controversial. He asked +his question in an honest desire to know of the credentials.</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned Crane, "letters from many well-known Spiritists, +Psychics, Scientists and plain citizens, who are enthusiastic and +sincere in their praise of this lady."</p> + +<p>"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Crane, who, it was plain to be seen, +fairly hung upon her husband's words.</p> + +<p>"Madame Parlato," returned Crane. "She is no fraud, no charlatan, but a +refined, gracious lady, whose sympathies are as wonderful as her occult +gifts."</p> + +<p>Carlotta Harper, who sat by Thorpe, was absorbed in the tale, and her +large dark eyes glowed, with intense interest as she listened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell us just what happened," she said, and Julie gave her a look of +mingled scorn and apprehension.</p> + +<p>"I will," Crane's deep voice went on. "The lady, you understand, knew +nothing of me or of Peter. I was careful about this, for I know there +are unscrupulous mediums, and I wanted to feel sure of this one's +honesty."</p> + +<p>"How do you know she'd never heard of you?" asked Thorpe. He had a +manner of speaking that was definite without being annoying. Apparently +he was curious, and not, necessarily, incredulous.</p> + +<p>"How could she?" returned Crane, "we have no mutual friends. I heard of +her through a comparative stranger, and I went to her at once. Don't be +carping, Thorpe, just wait till you hear my story. Well, she greeted me +pleasantly, and with a most courteous and lady-like demeanor. I had an +appointment, of course, and she directed me to sit at a table opposite +herself. I did so, and for quite a time nothing happened.</p> + +<p>"Then—she was not exactly in a trance, I should say, but rather she +seemed absorbed in deep thought—she said, 'I see a man, a fair-haired +man with a sunny, boyish smile. Do you recognize that description?' I +didn't say much, for I'm no fool to give myself away, you understand, +but I nodded assent, and she went on: 'He seems very active, full of +life and energy, and of a loving, affectionate nature.' You may guess +how I felt when she described Peter so exactly! I wanted to exclaim,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +'Yes, that's my boy!' but I'm always careful not to help in any way. So +I just nodded, and she went on. 'He passed away about two or three +months ago, and he seems willing to communicate with me. What shall I +ask him?'</p> + +<p>"Now, I'm canny, you know, and I said, 'Make sure of his identity first. +Ask him what name we used to call him by?' And, will you believe it? +after a short pause, she said, 'Peter Boots!' She seemed surprised +herself at such a name. I thought I ought to tell her how true that was, +so I did. She looked pleased to think it was all right, and waited for +me to ask another question. So I said, 'Ask him how he died.' She did, +and he told her he was frozen to death in a fearful snowstorm. Think of +that! And I said, 'Ask him how it happened.' And she did, and Peter said +he couldn't exactly say—he lost consciousness, and he knew nothing more +until he found himself on the other side. He said for me not to grieve, +for he should carry on over there all he had attempted to do here. He +said he retained all his ambition and energy and hope—you know he was +blessed abundantly with those traits—and——"</p> + +<p>"Did he say he was happy?" asked Mrs. Crane, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"He said he was content, and though it was all a little strange as yet, +he was becoming accustomed to that life and did not wish to return."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did he send any message to me?" urged the anxious mother.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming to that, dear. Yes, he said for you not to grieve for him, +but to think of him as busy and happy and entirely contented. Oh, Helen, +isn't it wonderful? I arranged for another <i>séance</i>, and you shall go +with me. She held out a hope of materialization later, but she wasn't +sure she could compass that for some time to come. You needn't look +skeptical, Thorpe; that expression on your face only proves your +ignorance of these things. I tell you, man, if it were somebody you +loved and cherished you'd be mighty glad to hear from him!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind my expression, Mr. Crane," Thorpe returned, looking +apologetic, "I'm deeply interested, I can tell you, and I'd like to hear +more."</p> + +<p>"There's little more to tell. It was a quiet session—none of that +curtained cabinet, tambourine-playing business, you understand; but a +plain revelation from my boy's spirit through the medium of a refined, +cultured woman. I'm sorry, now, I didn't take my wife with me to-day, +but I feared it might not be so agreeable, and I tried it out myself +first. But we will go together soon."</p> + +<p>Crane beamed happily, and it was impossible not to rejoice with him in +his delight and satisfaction at his experience.</p> + +<p>Julie, her lips pressed tightly together, made no comment on her +father's story. Christopher Shelby, who sat beside her, eyed her +covertly, not quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> decided whether to speak to her on the subject or +not.</p> + +<p>He concluded to do so, and whispered, "How does it all strike you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she returned, passing her hand across her white brow +with a wearied gesture. "If it had been those foolish cabinet affairs I +should have been disgusted, but the really nice woman,—as father +describes her,—and he never misrepresents,—gives a slightly different +face on it. Still, I can't believe——"</p> + +<p>"Shall you go to the next <i>séance</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't been asked. I doubt if they'll want me. I wonder what Carly +thinks of it all."</p> + +<p>But Carlotta was talking with Blair and Mr. Thorpe, and their +conversation had no connection with the subject in hand. They were +discussing a wedding of two of their mutual friends, which had proved a +surprise to them all. Blair and Julie joined that discussion, and the +matter of the <i>séance</i> was not again referred to by the young people.</p> + +<p>But on the way home Thorpe spoke his mind to Blair, who accompanied him.</p> + +<p>"How can a sensible, otherwise well-balanced man like Benjamin Crane +fall for that fake?" he exclaimed. "I've known Mr. Crane for years and +he never showed signs of paresis before!"</p> + +<p>"I don't attempt to explain it," returned Blair, casually, "but I do +know that lots of other equally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> hard-headed citizens are tarred with +the same brush."</p> + +<p>"That's true enough, but this is the first time I've run up against it +so closely. I say, Blair, how did the lingo tally with the facts of +Peter's death? Or would you rather not talk about it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mind talking about it at all. Why should I, among Peter's +friends? As to facts, we know none ourselves except that he was lost in +the snow. You've no idea of that snow, Thorpe! It was like a thick, +white feather-bed, falling, falling continually. It was impenetrable to +sight or hearing. The wind blew it about some, but it fell so thickly +that it seemed a solid mass that we struggled through. And it was quite +all we could do to get along——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't think for a minute I feel you were in the least derelict! I +know you weren't. It merely chanced that Peter's heart gave out—or +whatever it was that did happen—while he was the last one of the +procession."</p> + +<p>"And not only that. If, say, I'd fallen, a man behind might not have +seen me go down. If we swerved ever so little from a straight line, and, +of course, we did,—couldn't help it,—we lost sight for a moment of the +man in front. And as we all went along, eyes down or closed much of the +time, we might have lost a man who wasn't walking last. I wish I could +make you see it, Mac! See the traveling, I mean. I've never progressed +against such difficulties."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know, old chap. Do get out of your head that anybody blames any of +you in the least. And if they did, the blame would fall on the guide, +not on you fellows."</p> + +<p>"Joshua was not a bit to blame either. Surely you see that. It was every +man for himself,—and—fate took the hindmost! Oh, I hate to think about +it! It's even worse to me now than when it happened. The more I think +about it the more I grieve for dear old Peter. We were good pals, you +know."</p> + +<p>"I know it; we all were. Mighty few chaps like Peter Boots!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>Strange Revelations</h3> + +<p>"Old man Crane's gone nutty," Shelby remarked.</p> + +<p>"Been going for some time," agreed Blair, and McClellan Thorpe nodded +his head decidedly.</p> + +<p>The three sat in the studio apartment occupied by Blair and Thorpe, who +had just returned from dining at their club.</p> + +<p>Shelby had come home with them, but was soon to leave to keep an +engagement.</p> + +<p>"You'll scarcely believe what I'm up to to-night," Shelby went on, "I'm +going to a <i>séance</i> with Mr. Crane."</p> + +<p>"I say, Kit," remonstrated Thorpe, "I don't think you ought to encourage +him. He's daft enough on the subject now, and your approval makes him +worse."</p> + +<p>"I'm trying to stop him," Shelby said, quietly. "I think if I go to the +fool thing I can see how she works it and tell Mr. Crane, and he'll be +convinced of her trickery."</p> + +<p>"Are you convinced of it?" asked Thorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've never seen this one, but it's my opinion all professional mediums +are fakes," Shelby replied, seriously; "it may not be so, but I believe +I can tell after one investigation. I shall pretend to be greatly +impressed and all that, but I'll keep my eyes open. And I'm not going to +upset Mr. Crane unnecessarily. But if I think she's just fooling him +along for the money that's in it, I'm going to tell him so."</p> + +<p>"Even at that," Blair put in, "maybe it's worth the money to him to be +fooled. He's rich enough."</p> + +<p>"Maybe. But I hate to see a man swindled. However, I've agreed to go +with him once, and I'm glad to go. Good-by, I'll report results later."</p> + +<p>"You see," Blair said to Thorpe after Shelby had gone, "Kit and I can't +help feeling a sort of responsibility for this fad of Mr. Crane's. It +may be foolish and sentimental, but we feel an interest in Peter's +father, and we watch over him as if Peter had asked us to do so, which, +of course, he never did."</p> + +<p>"But the medium business is such awful rubbish," objected Thorpe.</p> + +<p>"It is and it isn't," Blair said, musingly. "It's six weeks now since we +came home, and all that time Mr. Crane has been receiving messages from +Peter, and every one of them that I've heard are sane and believable. +Moreover, Carlotta Harper has almost convinced me there's something in +it. That girl is a sort of medium herself. She denies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> it, says she only +uses her common sense, but I think she's clairvoyant."</p> + +<p>"There's a heap of difference between being clairvoyant, in a common +sense way, and being a fake medium! I don't care what Miss Harper does +with a foolish Ouija Board, but I'm like Kit Shelby, I hate to see +Benjamin Crane stung by a wily faker!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meantime Mr. Benjamin Crane was altogether enjoying the process that +Thorpe called stinging.</p> + +<p>Shelby, deeply interested, and looking innocently credulous, sat by +while the medium conducted the <i>séance</i>.</p> + +<p>Madame Parlato was, as Crane had asserted, a quiet-mannered, refined +looking woman, of a gracious and pleasant personality. She was tall and +fair, rather English in type, and spoke with a noticeable English +accent. She frequently ended sentences of simple statement with a rising +inflection and was addicted to the use of the word <i>very</i>, which she +pronounced <i>virry</i>.</p> + +<p>"You are a bit skeptical?" she said, with a careless glance at Shelby.</p> + +<p>"Only by reason of lack of occasions for belief," he returned. "I am, +however, open-minded and fair-minded enough to be willingly convinced. +You may or may not know, this son of Mr. Crane's was one of my closest +friends, and——"</p> + +<p>"Don't advance information, please," she remonstrated, "lest I be +thought to make use of it. I will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> ask you both to be quiet, whilst I +compose myself."</p> + +<p>"Hush up, Shelby," growled Crane, and Shelby did.</p> + +<p>The medium closed her eyes and leaned back in her armchair.</p> + +<p>She did not seem to be asleep, but she breathed heavily and a trifle +irregularly, and now and then gave a slight convulsive shudder.</p> + +<p>At last she spoke, very slowly, and in a voice decidedly different from +her own. Shelby couldn't quite make up his mind whether it seemed to him +like Peter's voice or not.</p> + +<p>The voice said, "I am here, father," and, after a moment's pause, +repeated the words.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," breathed Benjamin Crane, enthralled, as always, by the +sound; "talk to me, Peter, tell me things."</p> + +<p>"I can't talk much this time, father, it is hard to get through. There +is some obstacle."</p> + +<p>These words did not follow each other in natural succession, but came +haltingly, with waits between. Madame Parlato seemed unconscious of the +delays, and merely acted as a mouthpiece for the revelations.</p> + +<p>"What sort of an obstacle?" asked Crane.</p> + +<p>"An unbeliever is near," the voice hesitatingly asserted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Shelby, "tell him who I am!"</p> + +<p>"It's only Shelby," Mr. Crane said, "Kit Shelby.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> He's not really an +unbeliever, only inexperienced."</p> + +<p>"May I speak to him?" asked Shelby, as if permission were necessary.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," consented Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"It's old Kit, Peter—Kit Shelby, who went on the trip with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kit—all right—all right, old fellow—can't say much +to-night—something wrong——"</p> + +<p>"Well, but Peter," Shelby begged, "give me some sort of a sign—a test, +you know. I can't help wanting that."</p> + +<p>"All right," very slowly, "what test."</p> + +<p>"Let me see—well, tell me whose picture you carried in your watch +case."</p> + +<p>"Why, it was—Caroline—Caroline Harper."</p> + +<p>Shelby looked dazed. True, they had never called Carly Caroline, but the +Harper was undeniable, and the test quite near enough to the truth.</p> + +<p>The medium sat still, save for frequent slight shivers. Suddenly she +opened her eyes:</p> + +<p>"Who is talking?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I am," Shelby told her. "Please let me say a few more things."</p> + +<p>Madame Parlato's eyes closed, and she was motionless.</p> + +<p>"Are you still there, Peter?" asked his father, who was not at all +pleased with the presence of Shelby. It seemed to interfere with the +continuous talk he had hitherto enjoyed at the <i>séances</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yes, father. Is Kit there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can't you see me, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Not—not clearly. There's a haze in the room."</p> + +<p>There was no haze visible to the mortals present, but Shelby went +eagerly on.</p> + +<p>"Never mind seeing me, Peter, but do tell me this: What happened to +you?"</p> + +<p>"When?" asked the voice, with a far-away, fading sound.</p> + +<p>"When—when you died, you know. Oh, Peter, don't go away until you tell +us!"</p> + +<p>"Tell you—tell you—what?"</p> + +<p>"What killed you? How was it? Did you fall down?"'</p> + +<p>"I—I fell down, yes."</p> + +<p>"In the snowdrifts?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the snow was so cold—"</p> + +<p>"But why couldn't you get up? What happened to you? Did any attack——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was attacked. Attacked by a——"</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"By a wild animal of some sort."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter! What was it? Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"No, not sure—but attack by——"</p> + +<p>The voice grew fainter and more incoherent, and in a moment the medium +sat up straight and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"He was troubled," she said, "I could see him though you couldn't, and +he was sad and worried."</p> + +<p>"What about?" asked Shelby, abruptly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not sure, but I think because he didn't want to tell the awful +details of his death."</p> + +<p>"What were they? Could you see them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she pushed her loose hair back from her brow, as if exhausted. +"Yes, I saw it like a picture, but like a clouded, indistinct picture. +The poor chap was fighting a wild beast! Oh, it was fearful!" she shut +her eyes and shook her head violently. "That's the worst of it, I see +too clearly."</p> + +<p>"Tell us more, then," begged Shelby. "How did Peter look?"</p> + +<p>"Glorious, transfigured! His face was shining and his eyes sparkling."</p> + +<p>"H'm—queer to look like that when he was so worried."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was before the anxious look came. It is, I fear, difficult for +you to understand the conditions. The discarnate spirit has a sort of +secondary personality, not unlike a hypnotic state, and sometimes this +is jarred by any untoward influence and develops into a delirium, and +the statements cannot then be relied on. A novice always expects a +clear, definite style of speech from a spirit communicating through a +medium. This is not always the case. And the medium must merely take +what comes and repeat it without change or addition. If, therefore, you +are disappointed, I cannot help it. Surely you would not wish me to +embroider the messages I receive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Surely not," returned Shelby, "indeed, I think it wonderful that you +succeeded in getting as much coherence and information as you did. It is +something to know that Peter was attacked by a wild beast, for, horrible +as is the news, it does explain why he couldn't proceed on the journey."</p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Mr. Crane. "And I am so avid for word from my boy, that +even if the messages are disturbing and harrowing, I want them all. I +have always told Madame Parlato not to spare me. I prefer to know the +worst. For my boy is happy now. We have had several sittings; my wife +has attended some, and they are always comforting because of Peter's +assertions that he is now happy and contented."</p> + +<p>At Shelby's urgent request, the medium endeavored to induce Peter's +spirit to return for a further word.</p> + +<p>Her success was only partial, but they did hear a message to Shelby +direct.</p> + +<p>"Persevere, Kit," Peter said, "you're doing right in that matter. Go +ahead, Kit."</p> + +<p>"Your voice sounds queer, Peter," Shelby said, frowning a little. "It +used to be pitched in a higher key."</p> + +<p>"It's the medium," came a reply, and the pitch was higher. "I don't mean +the human medium, but the medium through which I must talk—the ether, I +suppose it is. Good-by, Kit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>Madame Parlato then came out of her trance, or whatever term she used to +designate her half-conscious state.</p> + +<p>"The session is over," she said, pleasantly. "I fear, Mr. Crane, you did +not get your usual degree of satisfaction from it, but that was because +of a third party here. I don't think Mr. Shelby's antagonistic exactly, +but he's—well, uncertain whether to believe what he hears or not."</p> + +<p>"That's quite true, Madame," said Shelby, with due respect, "but you are +doubtless accustomed to people in my frame of mind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," and the lady smiled a little, "but I trust, Mr. Shelby, you +will come some time by yourself and let me see what I can do to help you +make up your mind."</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad to do that. You have a strange power, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Strange, yes; but by no means unique. There are minds tuned by nature +to receive spirit messages, as wireless stations are tuned. I cannot +explain my strange power, I marvel at it myself, but I recognize it, and +I use it humbly and gratefully as a God-given treasure."</p> + +<p>"And that's what it is!" declared Benjamin Crane. "I'm glad you came +to-night, Shelby, but, after this, I admit I prefer to come alone, or +with only my wife. The messages from Peter to his father are naturally +more of a loving and domestic nature, and I revel in them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at that, Mr. Crane. And I congratulate you on having +found such a capable and skillful medium."</p> + +<p>Madame Parlato gave Shelby a quick glance, almost as if doubting his +sincerity. But his frank, honest face reassured her, and she said:</p> + +<p>"And, I'm proud to say, I'm not only a medium, but I am possessed of the +power that is called impersonation or transfiguration. This is +comparatively rare, and it enables me to perform what really seem like +miracles. I am taken possession of by the departed subject, and I speak +and act so perfectly with that other personality that sometimes I even +resemble the person who is talking through me."</p> + +<p>"It is indeed wonderful," Shelby said, and Benjamin Crane looked happily +contemplative of the <i>séances</i> in the future when Madame would utilize +this miraculous gift of hers in his behalf.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Shelby did go alone to see the medium, and it happened also that, about +a week later, going again, he chanced to meet Mr. Crane there. The +younger man offered to leave, but Crane said, "No, come along. Madame is +going to try to-night to materialize Peter's face, and I want you here +to see it."</p> + +<p>And so the strange <i>séance</i> began.</p> + +<p>Materialization, of course, called for a darkened room, and Shelby's +naturally suspicious mind was alert for possible fraud.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he could discover no chance for such. There was no cabinet, no +tambourine, bell or trumpet, and no curtain was drawn or screen set up.</p> + +<p>After they had sat in darkness and silence for a time, a face seemed to +form in mid-air. It was a misty, vague countenance, and was wrapped +about with a soft, floating drapery or veil, which exposed only the +features.</p> + +<p>"Peter!" exclaimed Benjamin Crane in a half-gasping voice. "My boy +himself!"</p> + +<p>"Peter Boots!" cried Shelby, and slowly the face vanished.</p> + +<p>Not another word was spoken, and in a moment the lights were turned on. +This was done by Madame Parlato, at whose elbow the light switch was.</p> + +<p>"Did you see anything?" she asked, in an exhausted, harassed way, yet +with an air of eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried out Crane. "I saw Peter, my own son!"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't be sure," she went on, speaking wearily. "It always exhausts +me utterly to induce a materialization, and I doubt if I can achieve +anything more to-night."</p> + +<p>"Nor do you need to," declared Mr. Crane. "That's enough for one +<i>séance</i>. Some time you may do that again, and also get speech from +him."</p> + +<p>"May be," she rejoined, with a gentle politeness, "and now I should be +glad to say good-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>The two men walked off, Crane in a tumult of delight, Shelby wondering +at it all.</p> + +<p>"You accept marvels very easily, Mr. Crane," the latter said.</p> + +<p>"Because they are marvels," said the older man simply. "If they were +fraud it would be no marvel. But being genuine, it is a marvel, it is a +miracle, and I am glad, rejoiced to accept it!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was soon after this that Shelby, calling on Carlotta Harper, asked +her what she thought of it all.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish," she replied flatly.</p> + +<p>Shelby looked at her. "But," he said, "I've been told that you can work +the Ouija Board wonderfully!"</p> + +<p>"Work the Ouija Board! What sort of talk is that? Do you mean push it, +to spell what I want it to?"</p> + +<p>"No; I spoke carelessly. I mean use the Board with results that are +surprising."</p> + +<p>"Who can't do that?"</p> + +<p>"Lots of people—myself, for one. Let's try it now, Carly. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you like. And, if you'll give me your word of honor that +you won't voluntarily or purposely urge the thing in any direction or +toward any letter."</p> + +<p>"Of course I promise that! Where'd be the fun if we cheated? You +promise, too?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. Like you, I've no interest if either pushes the least +mite."</p> + +<p>They placed themselves with the board between them on their knees.</p> + +<p>It was but a short time before the little heart-shaped block began to +move.</p> + +<p>Carly, who was no novice, said in a sing-song way: "Is there a spirit +present?"</p> + +<p>The board slid quickly to the corner marked "yes."</p> + +<p>"Will you spell out your name?" Carly went on in a very matter-of-fact +voice.</p> + +<p>The pointer went from letter to letter, now hurriedly and now making +wide circling sweeps, but it spelled correctly "Peter Boots."</p> + +<p>Shelby kept most careful watch on Carly's finger-tips. He could see that +there was no apparent muscle movement, no surreptitious pushing and no +motion of any sort save to follow the moving board. Her hands were quite +evidently resting as lightly as his own on the wood, and the board +without doubt moved without the voluntary help of either.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go on?" asked Carly, in a half whisper.</p> + +<p>"Go on? Of course!" returned the other.</p> + +<p>"Peter, have you a message for us?" Carly asked, again using that calm, +uninflected tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes," pointed the board, and then, as they settled down to receive it, +the wooden heart spelled rapidly: "Do not grieve for me— I am happy."</p> + +<p>Carlotta looked disappointed. "Oh, dear," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> said, "I'm so tired of +that message! I thought Peter would do better than that! Let's try +again."</p> + +<p>Again the board moved, and the message came, "Tell mother not to +grieve——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter," Carlotta said, in real impatience, "do say something beside +those stereotyped phrases! Tell us something we don't know, something +about yourself."</p> + +<p>"Tell us how you died," said Shelby, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell us that," Carly repeated.</p> + +<p>The board moved more slowly.</p> + +<p>"I was," it spelled, and "Go on!" the girl urged "I was—in the +snow——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes—go on."</p> + +<p>"And I fell down, and I—I—couldn't get up."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" this sharply from Carly.</p> + +<p>"H——" the board stopped; then went on, "Heart failure."</p> + +<p>"I thought so!" exclaimed Shelby; "there aren't any wild animals up +there in——"</p> + +<p>"Hush—it's moving again," said Carly.</p> + +<p>"Heart gave out," the board spelled, moving rapidly now. "Couldn't make +the boys hear. Could only gurgle in my throat. Couldn't shout. So I +died."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe it?" asked Carly, her big, brown eyes solemn and +serious.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Shelby. "It's highly probable, anyway. Go on, Peter, +tell us something else."</p> + +<p>Whether Shelby "believed" or not, he was deeply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> interested, and his +breath came faster as he saw the revealing letters spell various +messages.</p> + +<p>Both performers watched the four hands as the board moved under them. +And, the most intense scrutiny could discover no voluntary movement or +assistance to the uncanny instrument.</p> + +<p>Many messages were of slight importance, and then came a sudden, "I say, +Shelby, why don't you marry Carly?"</p> + +<p>The girl gasped, then smiled, but Shelby looked up, dumbfounded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Carly," he said, "if you only would!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she reproved him. "I'll put the board away if you do such +things! You know you pushed it that time!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't, Carly, truly—word of honor, I didn't! I'd no idea what was +coming! Oh, Carly, darling, I love you, and—dear, whether Peter sent +that message or not—won't you—can't you——"</p> + +<p>They had risen, casting aside the board, and Shelby took her hands in +his. "Dearest," he said, "I wanted to tell you, but I was +waiting—for—for Peter's sake. Now—he wants it! So, dear heart—my +little girl—won't you——"</p> + +<p>"No," said Carlotta.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>The Tobacco Pouch</h3> + +<p>It was doubtless owing to Benjamin Crane's attitude regarding his son's +death that the home did not present more the aspect of a house of +mourning. Both Crane and his wife were not only resigned to Peter's +fate, but they seemed positively happy in what they believed to be +continued communion with his spirit.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Crane said, "When Peter was a child the gypsies said he would go +away and be lost, but he would return to us. He has done so, he is doing +so—why should we grieve? He tells us he is happy and contented in his +new sphere of existence, therefore, we are, too."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," Carlotta Harper would respond, "but I don't look +at it that way at all. I want my Peter Boots back again in the flesh. +I'm not contented at all with a lot of spirit talk communicated through +a paid medium!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say paid medium, as if the paying detracted from her worth," +Benjamin Crane chid the girl. "Of course, we pay Madame Parlato for her +time—why should we not? It's the best money I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> ever spent! And you're a +medium yourself, Carlotta. You hate to acknowledge it, but you are. Your +work with the Ouija Board is perfectly marvelous, and I have proved to +my own satisfaction that you never use the least fraud."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I don't," said Carlotta, earnestly, "but what's the use? What +do I care to have Peter talk on that wooden board—if it <i>is</i> Peter—I +want him, himself!"</p> + +<p>Carlotta was passing through strange moods. Living alone with her +mother, their home seemed far more a house of mourning than the Cranes'.</p> + +<p>The girl grieved deeply for Peter. Though not definitely engaged, she +knew their betrothal would have been sealed on his return. And not +having the comfort that the Cranes so gladly accepted, she sorrowed for +her lost love.</p> + +<p>Her success with the Ouija Board was a matter of mystery to her mother +and to all who knew of it. It seemed that she must be a medium, or +possess some occult power, for whenever she placed her finger-tips on +the little board it immediately began to move, and told such remarkable +things that there was occasion for surprise. Nor did Carlotta move the +board of her own volition. It was easily seen that she did not "push" or +urge it in any direction. The most careful scrutiny could not only +discern no effort of hers, but could not fail to be convinced that she +made none. Her friends came often to beg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> her to give them a session. +Her fame spread until it began to annoy her.</p> + +<p>Gilbert Blair talked to her about it.</p> + +<p>"You know, Carly," he said, "it's not really a message from a spirit you +get, it's——"</p> + +<p>"It's what, Gilbert?" she asked, smiling. "Don't you tell me it's fraud +on my part, because it isn't."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think it's conscious fraud, but——"</p> + +<p>"But you don't know what it is, do you?" the girl smiled at him, and +Blair, looking deep in her eyes, said: "No, I don't know what it is, and +I don't care. But I care about you. Carly, dear, can't you learn to love +me? I'm not as good a chap as Peter—dear old Peter. But I love you—oh, +girl, how I love you!"</p> + +<p>"The Ouija Board said that Peter wanted me to turn my affections toward +Kit Shelby."</p> + +<p>"It didn't! did it? Then that proves that it was no real message from +Peter! He would rather you'd turn toward me."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we used to talk about you up in the snows of Labrador. And Peter +loved you lots, but he knew I did, too, and we agreed that the best man +should win. I don't mean the best man, but the one who stood best in +your heart. And now—oh, Carly, if you only would——"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Gilbert—don't let's talk about it yet."</p> + +<p>"But Peter's been dead nearly six months, and you weren't actually +engaged, you know——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Peter told me, oh, we were confidential up there. And, now, Peter's +gone, and try, won't you, Carly, try to love me. Shelby isn't in my way, +is he?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—he wants to be."</p> + +<p>"Of course he does! But I won't give up to him! Peter was different. He +was a wonder, that chap!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, he was. And I care too much for his memory to think about any +one else—yet."</p> + +<p>"But some day, Carly—dear, some day?"</p> + +<p>"Some day we'll see about it. Gilbert, what do you think of that medium +the Cranes go to all the time?"</p> + +<p>"Absolute rubbish."</p> + +<p>"I think that, too. But she's doing queer stunts. She's begun +materializing things."</p> + +<p>"What sort of things?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know exactly. Flowers, I believe, and hands and faces."</p> + +<p>"You know all the legerdemain people do that."</p> + +<p>"That's no argument, Gilbert, and you know it. The charlatans can do all +the things that the real mediums do. The question is not whether the +fakers can do them, but whether the real mediums can."</p> + +<p>"Meaning whether the real mediums are real or not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's what I mean. If ever there was a real one. I think Madame +Parlato is one. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> I'm not sure. She does the Cranes a lot of good. +They believe——"</p> + +<p>"Not Julie."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Julie hates the whole business. I think she'd be convinced, +though, except for Mr. Thorpe. He's such a skeptic that he influences +Julie."</p> + +<p>"I <i>thought</i> Thorpe was rather interested in that direction."</p> + +<p>"Well, rather! Why, they've been exclusively interested in each other +all winter."</p> + +<p>"Thorpe's a close-mouthed chap. We live together, but we seldom exchange +confidences. I like him pretty well, but——"</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"I oughtn't to say it, but I don't altogether trust him. We're working +for a prize, you know, the Callender medal, and sometimes I've imagined +that he——"</p> + +<p>"I know, he steals your ideas."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but he is an unconscious +kleptomaniac, I think. He watches my drawing—I go astray sometimes to +mislead him—and next thing I know he incorporates the same motive in +his own sketches. I wouldn't say this to any one else, but I'm a little +worried about it. Not so much about his taking my stuff as the fear that +some one will think I've taken his."</p> + +<p>"How's your work progressing?"</p> + +<p>"Well—if Thorpe lets me alone."</p> + +<p>"Can't you lock yourself in?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no; we use the same studio, and if I seemed fearful he would be +angry at once. He's a strange nature, Thorpe. Morbid and secretive, yet +a good friend and a first-rate living companion. You see, we've separate +bedrooms, of course, but we've only the one big room that's studio and +sitting-room combined. We have to use it together, but as our friends +are pretty much the same bunch, we get along all right. We have lockers +and all that, but I hate to lock up my sketches when I go out. It looks +as if I didn't trust him."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't."</p> + +<p>"No; but I can't tell him so. Nor do I want to hint it—at least not +until I find some definite proof. Get out your Ouija Board, Carly, and +see if it will tell us anything."</p> + +<p>"Oho, you believe in it fast enough when you want to use it?"</p> + +<p>But a trial of the occult only brought Blair the advice to beware of a +friend who might be at heart an enemy. To be careful of his plans and +sketches, for there was some one near who might be guilty of deceit.</p> + +<p>All of which Blair knew before.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The sessions which the Cranes held with Madame Parlato increased in +importance and interest.</p> + +<p>She had succeeded in materializing the face and form of their son to +their satisfaction of his identity. They told remarkable tales of seeing +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> hearing Peter Boots, until Julie ran out of the room lest she voice +her disapproval too strongly. For Julie Crane, though an absolute +unbeliever in Madame Parlato and all her works, was a devoted daughter, +and would do nothing to disturb the happiness her parents felt in the +<i>séances</i> with the medium.</p> + +<p>But one performance fairly staggered the group of listeners to whom the +Cranes recounted it.</p> + +<p>They returned from the medium's to find the young people sitting round +the hospitable Crane fireside. It was mid March and the weather still +allowed of the cheerful open fire.</p> + +<p>Carlotta was there and Shelby, and Blair and Thorpe, with Julie, of +course, made up the little party.</p> + +<p>"The most marvelous yet!" Benjamin Crane exclaimed, as he drew near the +fire. "Julie, dear, if you don't want to hear, run away, for I must tell +about it."</p> + +<p>But Julie stayed, and her parents told the story.</p> + +<p>It seemed the medium had promised them something very definite by way of +proof, and she had certainly kept her promise.</p> + +<p>The materialization of Peter had taken place, and, as the spirit form +slowly dissolved and faded from their view, there was left behind, lying +on the table, an object that had not been there before.</p> + +<p>It was a tobacco pouch, old and worn, and bearing Peter's initials.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Julie looked at it with horror-stricken eyes, as her father produced it +from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Why," she gasped, "it's the one I gave him on his birthday."</p> + +<p>"Not really!" cried Shelby, and both he and Blair leaned eagerly forward +to look.</p> + +<p>"It's the one he always carried with him in Labrador," Blair said, with +an expression of blank wonderment. "How did it get down here?"</p> + +<p>"I offer no explanation, save the true one," Benjamin Crane said, +seriously. "That is, as you see, a real object. It is Peter's property. +You, Blair, recognize it. Do you, Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"I do," Shelby replied, his eyes staring at the thing.</p> + +<p>"Julie recognized it at once," went on Crane. "So there's no doubt of +its identity. Now, I submit that it would be impossible for Madame +Parlato to have come by this in any natural way, therefore it is +supernatural."</p> + +<p>"Supernatural!" McClellan Thorpe exclaimed, with utter scorn in his +voice. "How could that be, sir?"</p> + +<p>"It was materialized by my son, Peter," Crane returned, looking at +Thorpe, calmly. "That may seem incredible to you, but it is not so +incredible as any other explanation you may offer. You cannot think my +wife or I would misstate what happened, can you? You cannot assume that +Madame Parlato obtained this in any underhanded way, for you cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +conceive of any way in which she <i>could</i> do so. Then, what do you +suggest?"</p> + +<p>"Anything, but that Peter brought it!" Thorpe cried.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes; anything but the truth. You glibly say 'anything,' but I ask +you to suggest what you mean in that 'anything,' and you fail to reply."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to suggest," Blair said; "I confess myself utterly at +a loss to suggest anything. To my certain knowledge Peter had that on +his person when he died! Why, that morning he had given me a pipeful out +of it, and had then returned it to his pocket! My explanation is that +Peter is alive!"</p> + +<p>"I wish that were the true one," said Benjamin Crane, fervently, "but if +you'll think a minute, Gilbert, you'll realize that if Peter were alive +he would come to us in the flesh, and not send his tobacco pouch by a +medium."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, he would!" agreed Carlotta, "much as I'd love to believe Peter +alive, this episode contradicts such a belief, not proves it!"</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Shelby, thoughtfully; "I, too, can believe anything +rather than that the medium caused the materialization of this thing, +but——"</p> + +<p>"The medium didn't cause it, exactly," broke in Mrs. Crane's gentle +voice; "you see, we had begged Peter so hard for a material proof that +he promised to try to give it to us. And at last he succeeded. It is +miraculous, of course, but no more miraculous than the strange things +recorded in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> Bible. You see, I hold that the day of miracles is not +past."</p> + +<p>Shelby said gravely, "You must be right, for there's surely no other +explanation. I, too, saw this in Peter's hand that last day we were +together. I can't believe he's alive——"</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" interrupted Blair, "if he were, he'd have no use for +mediums! Whatever is the truth, it's not that Peter's alive! I only wish +it might be, but as Carlotta says, this thing contradicts such a theory. +I'm beaten. I see no light at all."</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane smiled. "You boys admit you see no explanation yet you +refuse to accept the obvious and only one possible. But I'm not going to +try to persuade you, I've no reason to do so. It all means little to +you, but it is as the breath of life to me and to Peter's mother. I +trust that some day Julie will be convinced of these truths, but that is +for her to decide. I shall add this revelation to my book, by way of an +appendix. It's too late to incorporate it in the body of the work."</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane's book had been a work of absorbing interest to him if +not to his friends. He was entirely obsessed by the whole matter of +Spiritism, and his book, following the style of a celebrated work of a +similar nature in England, was even now in the publisher's hands.</p> + +<p>The book was a memorial to Peter and an account of the experiences of +his parents during the sessions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> with the medium. Crane possessed a +pleasant, convincing style, and the book was well written and of a real +interest quite apart from the question of the reader's belief in its +matter.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the volume was published, and that was early in April, it became an +immediate success. Not the least of the reasons for this was the +astounding account of the materialization of the tobacco pouch, detailed +exactly as Benjamin Crane had told the story the night of the +occurrence.</p> + +<p>The book went like wildfire. Edition after edition was sold, and +Benjamin Crane found himself famous. The benign old gentleman took his +notoriety calmly, and refused to see the people who thronged to his door +unless they were personal acquaintances. He had to engage secretaries +and other assistants, but his methodical and efficient mind easily coped +with all such matters. Mrs. Crane, too, was serenely indifferent to the +publicity of it all, and pursued her simple ways of life undisturbed.</p> + +<p>But Julie was angry at it all. Her life, she said, was spoiled by being +known as the daughter of a demented monomaniac.</p> + +<p>Her father smiled at her and told her she would change her views some +day, and her mother scolded her now and then, but mostly ignored the +subject when talking with her.</p> + +<p>Julie found sympathy in the views of McClellan Thorpe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>Neither of these two would believe in the materialization of the tobacco +pouch, yet neither of them could arrive at any satisfactory explanation +of the incident.</p> + +<p>"Of course, it's Peter's pouch," Julie would say; "but it came to that +woman by some natural means. Maybe, somebody found it up there in +Labrador and brought it home——"</p> + +<p>"No," Thorpe would object, "in that case it would be weather-worn and +defaced, and, too, nobody would have any reason to find it, bring it +home, and give it to Madame Parlato! No, Carly, that won't do."</p> + +<p>"Maybe he had two—duplicates," Carly suggested once. But inquiries of +the Crane family proved that was not so. It was the very one Julie had +given her brother, she was sure of that.</p> + +<p>And so that mystery remained unexplained, save by the acceptance of a +miracle.</p> + +<p>A very material result of the success of Crane's book was a large amount +of money that came to him from its royalties. Some of this he decided to +use in fitting out an expedition to recover his son's body.</p> + +<p>This, he decreed, was to be under the direction of Shelby and Blair, who +knew just how it should be conducted. With his usual efficiency, Crane +made all the arrangements and then told the young men about what he had +done.</p> + +<p>They agreed to go, but Shelby advised first that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> he write to Joshua, +their old guide, as to their reception.</p> + +<p>This was done, but the reply received caused a halt in the preparations.</p> + +<p>For the letter, which Shelby brought over for Crane to read, ran thus:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mister Shelby</span>:</p> + +<p>"I think youd better not try to take back the boddy of Mister +Peter. We berried it verry deep and it better remain here. Anny +way, you cant mannage it till late summer. Say about August or +so."</p></div> + +<p>"However, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, "if you say so, we can go ahead in +spite of Joshua's letter. He's a good guide, but he always was a bit +dictatorial."</p> + +<p>"No," Benjamin Crane said, "I believe in taking advice from one who is +undoubtedly good authority. We'll postpone the plan until August."</p> + +<p>When Blair was told of it he was rather relieved, for he was busy with +his prize drawings and he didn't want to leave town.</p> + +<p>"Let's see the letter," he said to Shelby.</p> + +<p>"I haven't it, Blair. I left it with Mr. Crane. But I've told you the +gist of it."</p> + +<p>"All right, Kit," and Blair went on with his work.</p> + +<p>It was the next night at the Crane house that Mr. Crane again spoke of +his disappointment at not putting through his hoped-for expedition.</p> + +<p>"You see, Kit," he said to Shelby, "I want to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> write another book, and I +want it to be about the recovery of Peter's body."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't do that, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, impulsively; "it would be +anti-climax. You've done a big thing, and scored a success. Another book +would spoil it all."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Crane, not at all annoyed at Shelby's attitude. +"Anyway, I hate to give up my plan. See here, Shelby, are you sure that +man Joshua wrote the letter you got?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. What makes you ask that?"</p> + +<p>"Only because it's in a big sprawly hand, and once Blair showed me a +letter from Joshua, which he's kept as a memento, and it was in a small +cramped hand."</p> + +<p>"That's queer. But I expect Joshua might have got somebody to write for +him. Those half-breeds are not very scholarly, you know. However, if +there's any doubt about it, the matter must be looked into. Do you mean +that maybe we can go now, after all? But I can't help thinking that +Joshua wrote that. I know he's not very strong on spelling!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Blair will know. You ask him for that letter he has of Joshua's."</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Crane, I will. I'll see him to-night. There's a dinner +on at the Club, and he'll be there. You know he's in a fair way, I +think, to get that Callender prize."</p> + +<p>"I hope so, I'm sure. A rising young architect,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> Blair is, and I hope he +wins it. I suppose he wouldn't want to go to Labrador until that matter +is settled?"</p> + +<p>"No, probably not. But the award will be made this month."</p> + +<p>"And he's in a fair way to get it?"</p> + +<p>"Looks that way to me. His sketches are fine, though I haven't seen his +finished work. Thorpe's a close second, I imagine."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I'd rather see Thorpe get it, but don't tell Blair that. A +man is naturally interested in his future son-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's gone as far as that, has it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it's not announced yet. So say nothing till Julie tells you +to. She's a dear girl, but as hard as adamant where belief in the occult +is concerned."</p> + +<p>"She and Thorpe are at one there."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that helped the affair along, I fancy. But it's all right. Julie +can think what she likes. Peter used to hate the subject, too."</p> + +<p>"I know it. We touched on it now and then, but he usually veered off to +something else at once."</p> + +<p>"What do you think about the pouch, Shelby? I'm not sure I ever asked +you."</p> + +<p>"I don't think, Mr. Crane. I mean I can't explain the thing by natural +means, and I'm unable to believe in the supernatural. What more can I +say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. I suppose most people are like that. Thank heaven. I'm made so +that I can believe!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>Blair Knows</h3> + +<p>Gilbert Blair was a lovable sort of chap, one of those fine, gentle +natures that will put up with annoyance rather than annoy another. +Although he would have preferred to live alone, yet it was greatly to +his pecuniary advantage to have Thorpe share his place, and, on the +whole, they got on fairly well. But, being of different habits and +temperaments, the details of their home life were not always harmonious.</p> + +<p>Blair was methodical, liked his drawing implements and sketches kept in +order, and the rooms tidy. Thorpe was not particular in these respects, +and his belongings were always scattered about not only on his own +tables or desk, but on Blair's. Moreover, he did not hesitate to use his +chum's materials if his own were not immediately available.</p> + +<p>So it happened that when Shelby stopped in on his way home from the +Cranes' he found a mild war of words in progress.</p> + +<p>"You know, old dear," Thorpe was saying, "you'd be quite welcome to use +my drawing paper, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> call it rough of you to kick because I took a +couple of sheets of yours."</p> + +<p>"Couple of sheets!" exclaimed Blair, "you took six or eight, and I had +only about enough to complete this series of sketches. You know how I +hate to use paper that doesn't match——"</p> + +<p>"At it again?" said Shelby, coming in. "You two never have an out and +out row, but you're always bickering. Thorpe, you ought to mend your +ways—it is a confounded nuisance to have other people using your +things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Blair's an old granny. It does him good to get stirred up once in a +while. That paper of his——"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Shelby, quietly, "it's a special paper that he bought for +his prize drawings—it's not only expensive, but he wants the sheets +uniform. You knew this, Thorpe, and yet you grab it and use it for your +trial sketches."</p> + +<p>"Now, now, Kit," and Blair smiled good-naturedly, "you needn't take up +my quarrel. I'm jumping on Thorpe myself."</p> + +<p>"You jumping! You'd lie down and let him walk over you!"</p> + +<p>"Not much, he wouldn't!" Thorpe growled; "he's been ballyragging me for +half an hour! Not only about the paper, but he——"</p> + +<p>"Let up, Thorpe," Blair spoke angrily, "at least let's keep our +skeletons in our closet!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is there a real row on?" Shelby inquired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no," Blair declared, but Thorpe jumped up, and, going into his +bedroom, closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"Drop it," commanded Blair, quietly, and Shelby changed the subject.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane says you had an old letter from Joshua," he began, "let's see +it, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, if I can find it," and Blair began rummaging in his desk. +"Confound it, Kit, if Thorpe hasn't been poking in here among my +letters!"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't stand for it, Gilbert. What would he do that for?"</p> + +<p>"Hush," with a glance toward Thorpe's closed door, "never mind now. But, +anyway, I can't find that letter. What do you want it for?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane thinks the one I received from Joshua looks so different that +I wanted to compare them."</p> + +<p>"Let me see yours. I can tell at once. Joshua wrote a small cramped +hand——"</p> + +<p>"This one was rather large and of loosely formed letters, but, of +course, some one may have written it for him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Joshua hated to write——"</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind, don't hunt for it any more. Pretty queer thing about +that tobacco pouch of Peter's, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>Blair looked up quickly. "No, I don't. I know, or at least I think I +know, the explanation of that."</p> + +<p>"You do! Well, out with it!"</p> + +<p>"No, not now," and Blair gave a significant glance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> toward Thorpe's +door. "But I've had my suspicions roused, and I'm going to verify them, +and then I'm going to expose somebody. I can't stand any more of this +sort of thing. I tell you, Kit, I know!"</p> + +<p>Shelby looked at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you won't talk now, we'll whoop it up some other time. See you +to-night at the dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; get along now, and we'll meet there later."</p> + +<p>Blair looked anxious and preoccupied. As he went toward the door with +Shelby he said suddenly, "I say, Kit, will you drop Carlotta Harper?"</p> + +<p>"Drop her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; stop calling on her or paying her any attention."</p> + +<p>"I will not! Just why——"</p> + +<p>"All right." Blair's voice was cold and sharp. "Good night."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Gil. You're queer to-night. See you later."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>While dressing for the dinner Kit Shelby thought long and earnestly of +Blair's strange words and his peculiar mental attitude. He thought Blair +was like a man who had reached the end of his rope. A sort of +exasperation had showed in his face and manner, and Shelby wondered what +it meant.</p> + +<p>He went over every word of the conversation they had had, including +Blair's demand that Shelby desist from future acquaintance with Carly +Harper!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> That was some demand, Shelby decided. And one to which he had +no intention of acceding.</p> + +<p>His ruminations resulted in his calling again at Blair's on the way to +the dinner.</p> + +<p>He found Blair nearly ready, and Thorpe, too, waiting to start.</p> + +<p>Shelby scrutinized the faces of both men, and concluded they were still +at odds. He went into Blair's bedroom, where that correct young man was +carefully tying his immaculate evening tie.</p> + +<p>"There, you made me spoil it," Blair exclaimed, as Shelby's sudden +entrance caused a nervous gesture and a resultant wrinkle of the strip +of lawn.</p> + +<p>"Fiddle-de-dee! Don't be a fuss! Only men, you know. That's good +enough."</p> + +<p>But Blair selected another tie, and, while he manipulated it, Shelby +fussed around the room. He could say no word in confidence to Blair, for +Thorpe was impatiently tailing them to hurry, and shortly the three +started off, gay of manner on the surface, whatever they might be +thinking about.</p> + +<p>They carefully avoided all mention of the Cranes, and also avoided the +coming prize competition as a subject of discussion.</p> + +<p>This, itself, proved the rift in the lute was still recognized in the +souls of Blair and Thorpe at least. The two had enough artistic +temperament to feel the inevitable jealousy of each other's designs, and +if Blair suspected Thorpe of appropriating his ideas, whether +consciously or unintentionally, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> would have the effect of making him +unusually quiet, even morose, rather than to result in so much as a +spoken hint of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>Moreover, habit is strong, and the three walked off to keep their +engagement with much the same gay laughter and chatter as usual.</p> + +<p>Shelby, especially, was purposely talkative and jocular, for he wanted +to get the other two in complete good humor before the feast began.</p> + +<p>In a general way he succeeded, and though Blair was a bit quiet, Thorpe +regained his ordinary temper, and the men met and mingled with their +fellows, their attitude properly in the key of the occasion.</p> + +<p>It was a merry little dinner, and at last the talk drifted to Mr. +Crane's book about Peter. Everybody present had known and loved Peter +Boots, and various were the opinions regarding Benjamin Crane's +extraordinary work.</p> + +<p>"All rubbish," declared one man. "Strange, how sensible men can fall for +that stuff! Makes me sick!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now," another urged, "there must be something in it. Benjamin +Crane never made up all that."</p> + +<p>"No, he didn't make it up, but he was fooled, gulled, taken in."</p> + +<p>"By the medium?" asked some one.</p> + +<p>"Partly," answered somebody else. "But I think there's been underhand +work going on."</p> + +<p>"Such as what?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, some of Peter's people or friends helping the medium along. I've +read that book with the greatest care, studied it, and I get a lot +between the lines. And I think——"</p> + +<p>"Don't say it," put in Blair, quietly. "Unless you know something, +Knight, better keep still."</p> + +<p>"But why, Blair? We're all friends of Peter here, why not discuss the +thing freely and frankly?"</p> + +<p>"Better let it alone," insisted Blair, and then the talk drifted to the +coming competition, which was even more dangerous.</p> + +<p>"Of course nobody has a look-in but Blair and Thorpe," declared the +talkative Knight. "They're sure to get the prize, separately or +together."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"Heard you were working on a big scheme on which you had joined forces."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort," declared Blair, shortly, and Thorpe added, "And +if we were, we wouldn't say so."</p> + +<p>Then the more peaceable minded of the group introduced other subjects, +and art and spiritism were left out of it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On the way home, as several were walking together, Shelby turned off at +his home street and refused all invitations to go on with the others.</p> + +<p>"Can't do it," he said. "I've got a piece of work to finish, and I've +got to go home. See you all to-morrow night. By-by."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm going along with you," Knight said to Blair. "I want to see your +sketches, you said I might."</p> + +<p>"All right," Gilbert returned, and, Thorpe with them, they went on to +the studio.</p> + +<p>Knight acted as a peacemaker, though not knowing it. He was a jolly, +good-natured man, and he guyed the work of both his friends until they +joined forces to contradict him.</p> + +<p>Late they sat, smoking and talking over general matters. Also they +discussed the Crane book, and agreed that, whether true or not, it was a +great document and wonderfully popular.</p> + +<p>"People are crazy over it, who always hooted at that sort of thing," +Knight asserted. "It's partly the charm of Mr. Crane's manner, for the +book is delightfully written, and somehow it does carry conviction."</p> + +<p>"Thought you didn't believe in it!"</p> + +<p>"Me? Oh, I don't," and Knight winked; "I mean it carries conviction to +those who like that sort of thing. No, I don't believe a word of it is +truth."</p> + +<p>"Yet you have confidence in Mr. Crane's sincerity?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; he's merely fooled by a medium and——"</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>"And somebody who's telling her things."</p> + +<p>"Who'd do that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know, but it's too palpable. Look at that tobacco pouch affair. +You know somebody must have given her that. Who did?"</p> + +<p>"Hush up," said Blair, determinedly. "If you want to discuss that, do it +somewhere else."</p> + +<p>"You're all on edge to-night, Blairsy. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, and I'm not."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you are," Knight went on. "But, of course, it's nervousness +about the competition. What'll either of you boys do if the other gets +the prize?"</p> + +<p>"Congratulate him," said Thorpe, but there was not much ring of +earnestness in his tone.</p> + +<p>Blair looked at him moodily, and Knight rose to go.</p> + +<p>"You chaps are out of sorts, and I'll not see you again till the prize +business is settled. Then I hope you'll be your own sweet sunny selves +once more. Good night."</p> + +<p>He went off, and the other two began a desultory conversation. It +lagged, however, and soon they separated for the night.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Nobody in the Leonardo Studio apartments was an early riser. For that +reason it was nearly eleven o'clock when Thorpe, his face very white, +telephoned downstairs and asked the doorman to come up at once.</p> + +<p>When Hastings appeared he found Thorpe sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> on the edge of a chair +in the studio in a state of agitation.</p> + +<p>"Blair——" Thorpe said, speaking with difficulty. "Mr. Blair,—you +know,—he's—he's very ill——"</p> + +<p>"Ill, sir? Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"In bed—in his room—go in, Hastings."</p> + +<p>The man went in, and it needed only a glance to tell him that Blair's +illness, whatever it had been, was fatal.</p> + +<p>"He's dead," Hastings said, in an awe-stricken voice. "He's surely +dead."</p> + +<p>"Well, do something," Thorpe said; "what's the thing to do? Get a +doctor?"</p> + +<p>"A doctor couldn't help him, but yes, we ought to send for one. Who, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I've never had a doctor. This unnerves me, Hastings. I +wish you'd do what's necessary."</p> + +<p>"Ain't you a friend of his, sir? Can't you show a little heart?"</p> + +<p>Hastings had never liked Thorpe, but had always been an admirer of +Gilbert Blair. There was no special reason for this, unless that Blair +was of a kindlier nature, and rarely found fault with Hastings, while +Thorpe was sometimes irascible and even unreasonable.</p> + +<p>Moreover, if Thorpe was nervously upset, Hastings was, too, and neither +man knew exactly what to do.</p> + +<p>"Well, you must get a doctor," Thorpe went on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> a little peevishly. +"You're responsible in cases of emergency——"</p> + +<p>"Me responsible, sir? What do you mean, Mr. Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to make you look like that. But you're in a position of +responsibility, and it's up to you to do something. Now, do it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." The tone of authority brought Hastings to his senses. He was +responsible in a case like this, and he went to the telephone. He called +the superintendent, who did not live in the building, and asked him to +come at once, and to bring a doctor. Then, his work done, he left the +room, and Thorpe was alone with his dead comrade.</p> + +<p>But McClellan Thorpe made no move. He sat still on the edge of the +chair, his face turned away from Blair's bedroom and toward the outer +door.</p> + +<p>At last Somers, the superintendent, arrived, and with him was Doctor +Frost.</p> + +<p>They went straight to Blair's bedroom, scarcely speaking to Thorpe.</p> + +<p>"Hastings tells me he's dead," Somers merely said, as he passed Thorpe's +chair.</p> + +<p>With practiced experience, the doctor examined the body.</p> + +<p>"The man has been dead about eight or nine hours," he said, "it's +impossible to fix the time of his death exactly,—but I place it at +about three o'clock this morning. Though it may have taken place an hour +sooner or later."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What caused it?" Somers, asked, "a stroke?"</p> + +<p>"Can't tell without an autopsy. There is positively no indication of any +reason for it."</p> + +<p>"A natural death, of course?" Thorpe asked, jerkily.</p> + +<p>The doctor gave him a quick glance. "Looks so," he returned. "Maybe a +stroke,—though he's young for that. Maybe acute indigestion, is he +troubled that way?"</p> + +<p>"With indigestion? Yes," Thorpe said; "he has it most of the time. But +not acute,—merely a little discomfort when he overeats,—which he often +does."</p> + +<p>"Does he take anything for it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know,—yes, I've seen him take remedies now and then. I've not +paid it much attention."</p> + +<p>"Queer case," the doctor mused. "If it had been that, he would have +cried out, I think. Did you hear no disturbance?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," said Thorpe. "Are you sure it's not a stroke?"</p> + +<p>"He's too young for a stroke. Where are his people?"</p> + +<p>"'Way out West. And he hasn't many. An invalid mother, and a young +sister,— I think that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well,—who should be notified? Those relatives? Where are they? Will +you take charge?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't!" Thorpe spoke shrinkingly. "I'm— I'm no relation,—you +know,—merely a fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> lodger in his apartment. I'd—rather get out, +any way."</p> + +<p>"You and he chums?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; both architects. Of course, I know all about Mr. Blair's work and +that,—but I know nothing of his private affairs. Can't you get somebody +to—to settle up his estate?"</p> + +<p>"If he has an estate to settle. But somebody ought to look after things. +Who are his friends?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane is one,—Benjamin Crane. And Christopher Shelby,—he's an +intimate chum."</p> + +<p>"Crane, the man who wrote the book about his son's spirit?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that one. Shall I telephone him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; you'd better do so. And I think it necessary to have an autopsy. +This death is mysterious, to say the least. It's unusual, too, in some +of its aspects."</p> + +<p>"Do what you like," said Thorpe, "but—but I'd rather not be present. I +think I'll go down to the Cranes' and tell them,—while you—you go on +with your work."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Doctor Frost, "I'd just as lief have you out of the +way. Leave me the telephone call that will reach you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As Thorpe went off, he realized that he'd had no breakfast. He felt +little like eating, but dropped into a restaurant for a cup of coffee.</p> + +<p>He found himself totally unable to drink it, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> leaving it untasted he +went on to the Crane house.</p> + +<p>He told the story to Benjamin Crane, who was shocked indeed.</p> + +<p>"But I'm not greatly surprised," Mr. Crane said; "I've been thinking for +some time that Blair didn't look well. A sort of pallor, you know, and +he was thin. I don't think the Labrador trip agreed with him at all. And +Peter's death affected him deeply. No; Blair hasn't been well for +months."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here at this time in the morning, McClellan?" asked +a laughing voice, as Julie Crane came into the room.</p> + +<p>But her laughter was hushed as she was told the news.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mac, what an awful ordeal for you," she exclaimed, her sorrow at +Blair's death apparently lost sight of in sympathy for Thorpe.</p> + +<p>"It was, Julie," he returned, earnestly; "I'm—I'm positively foolish +about such things,—death, I mean. I,—I almost went all to pieces."</p> + +<p>"Of course you did! Had you had your breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"No; I tried to take some coffee, but I couldn't."</p> + +<p>"You will now," said the girl, decidedly. "You come with me, to the +dining room, and I'll make you some coffee myself, on the electric +percolator, and some toast, too, and if you don't enjoy them, I'll be +mad at you."</p> + +<p>He followed her in a sort of daze, turning back to say:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you going up to the studio, Mr. Crane?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at once. You go along with Julie, and let her look after you. And, +Julie, you must tell your mother. It will be a shock,—she loves all +Peter's friends."</p> + +<p>The two went to the dining-room, where Julie, housewifely girl that she +was, brewed golden coffee and made toast with no aid from the servants.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crane joined them, and Julie told her mother the sad news.</p> + +<p>"Poor Gilbert," she said, wiping her tears away. "Peter loved him. Have +you told Kit Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," Thorpe said; "I'm so broken up myself——"</p> + +<p>"Of course you are," Julie said; "I suppose father will send him word. +Don't think about that, Mac, father will attend to everything."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Thorpe, "and I'm so relieved. Don't think me a +weakling, but death always unnerves me,—I can't help it,—and when I +found Gilbert,—like that——"</p> + +<p>"There, there," Julie soothed him, "you did all you could. Now let me +make you one little piece more of brown toast——"</p> + +<p>But Thorpe declined. To please the girl he had managed to eat one tiny +crisp bit, but another he could not accept. Nor could he take more than +a small part of the cup of coffee she gave him.</p> + +<p>"I'm a fool," he said, "but—I'm all in!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>Investigation</h3> + +<p>Nor did Thorpe's nerves grow calmer. Both Mrs. Crane and Julie tried to +soothe him, but he was jumpy and his mouth twitched spasmodically.</p> + +<p>The women endeavored to change the subject and talked of other things, +whereupon Thorpe sat, brooding,—his dark, handsome face strained and +despairful.</p> + +<p>"Now, McClellan," Julie said, at last, decidedly, "it's awful enough, +goodness knows, but I'll go crazy if you sit there like that any longer! +Let's think what's to be done. In the first place, there's Carly to be +considered. She's worse hit than you are. Oh, I know you and Gilbert +were great friends and all that,—but I think he and Carly were more +than friends."</p> + +<p>"Julie," said her mother, "don't assume more than you know. Carly hasn't +forgotten Peter,—of that I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"No; and I don't say there was anything definite between her and Gil +Blair, but I think it would have come in time. Gilbert was crazy over +her, even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> before they all went on that trip, and when Peter didn't come +back, I think Gilbert felt he had a right to win Carly if he could."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he had right enough," Mrs. Crane conceded, "but—I suppose I'm a +bit jealous of my son's memory. However, I'm sorry for poor little +Carly, if she did care for Gilbert in that way."</p> + +<p>And then Carlotta came in. Shelby was with her; he had heard the news +and had gone straight to Carlotta's home, and they had come over to the +Cranes' together.</p> + +<p>Carlotta's eyes were red with weeping, but she was even more indignant +than sad.</p> + +<p>"Who could have killed Gilbert?" she cried, "and why should any one do +so?"</p> + +<p>"Killed him!" cried Julie, "what <i>do</i> you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes,—haven't you heard? Gilbert was poisoned."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Carlotta! Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"Kit told me;—tell them about it,—I can't."</p> + +<p>So Shelby told them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane telephoned me," he said, "only about half an hour ago. He +said the doctor found that Gilbert was poisoned, either by himself——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he never did it himself!" Carlotta cried out. "Why should he? He +was just on the eve of the great competition,—and he was so excited +about it, and so hopeful,—it's absurd to say he killed himself!"</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," agreed Julie. "But are they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> sure it was poison? Mac +thought it was acute indigestion,—or a stroke, or something like that."</p> + +<p>"No," Shelby said. "Mr. Crane said there was no doubt about it, I mean +about the poisoning. But don't be too sure that Gilbert didn't take it +himself. It might have been by mistake, you know. And anyway it's a +mistake to theorize much until we know more of the details. I'm going up +to Blair's place. Coming along, Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"No,—no,—I don't believe I will,—I'll stay here a while, if Mrs. +Crane will let me."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Mrs. Crane, in her kind, motherly way, "Mac is all +broken up. And no wonder! The shock of finding Gilbert dead——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Thorpe, did you make the discovery?" exclaimed Carlotta. "How +awful! I don't wonder you're upset. Yes, Kit, you go up to Gilbert's. +There may be something you can do."</p> + +<p>Shelby went away, and when he reached the studio the first one to greet +him was Mr. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Shelby, I'm glad you came. This is a bad business."</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it,—I know only the main fact,—of Gilbert's death."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the main fact, and the next one in importance is that the +boy was poisoned. It's not known whether he took the poison himself or +whether——"</p> + +<p>"But how? I mean, what are the circumstances?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come on in,—the police are here and the doctor. Listen to them."</p> + +<p>The two went into the familiar studio, the big room where Blair and his +friends had so often forgathered with jests and laughter.</p> + +<p>There were two doctors there and two or three men from the Police +Department.</p> + +<p>The Medical Examiner was talking.</p> + +<p>"It's one of those cases," he said, "where there seem to be no clews at +all. The autopsy revealed the mere fact that Mr. Blair was poisoned by +prussic acid, taken into the stomach. But there is no evidence in the +way of a glass or container of any sort, there is no odor of prussic +acid about his lips, no real reason to suspect foul play, and yet no +apparent reason to think he killed himself. It may have been an +accident, yet I can see no real evidence of that. It's mysterious from +the very lack of anything suspicious."</p> + +<p>"Was he—was he in bed?" asked Shelby, who had heard no detail of +Thorpe's finding the body.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Doctor Middleton, the Examiner. "It seems his room-mate +found him, in bed, in his night-wear, and immediately called the doorman +of the house."</p> + +<p>"And then Thorpe lit out," remarked Detective Weston. "I want to see +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Thorpe's all right," said Mr. Crane. "He's down at my house. I'll +vouch for him. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> needn't look that way for the criminal,—if there is +a criminal."</p> + +<p>"I should say not!" declared Shelby. "McClellan Thorpe and Mr. Blair +were the greatest friends."</p> + +<p>"But I can't think Gilbert was killed," Mr. Crane went on. "Seems to me +if that were the case, there'd be some evidence of an intruder. And as +Gilbert has no friends,—I mean no relatives or family in the city, I'll +take up the matter myself. I'd like a thorough investigation, not so +much to prove there was a criminal as to prove there wasn't one. I don't +think there was, but I'd like a search made for any light that can be +thrown on the matter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll investigate all right," said Weston; "I think somebody bumped +the man off. I don't see any possibility for an accident, but it's more +like suicide to me."</p> + +<p>"Let's look around a bit," said Shelby. "I'm with you, Mr. Crane, in +assuming responsibility. Why, who is there to take charge of Gilbert's +things,—his estate?"</p> + +<p>"It's hardly a big enough matter to call an estate," Crane said; "of +course, I know more or less of Blair's affairs, and he wasn't by any +means affluent. Indeed, his hopes of the prize in the coming competition +represented his chief asset."</p> + +<p>"Thought he'd get a prize, did he?" said Weston, "for what?"</p> + +<p>"For his architectural design," Crane answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> "He was working hard, +and was hopeful. That's why I feel sure he never killed himself."</p> + +<p>"Here are his designs," said Shelby, as he opened a big portfolio. "Why +don't you take these, Mr. Crane, and take them home with you. They're +really valuable."</p> + +<p>"Of course they are,—I'll do that," agreed the older man. "Blair has a +sister, somewhere out West. If anything comes of the drawings, it will +be hers."</p> + +<p>"Can you get in touch with his family?" asked Middleton.</p> + +<p>"Don't know anything about them," Crane returned. "I suppose there must +be letters or an address book or some such matters in Blair's desk. +Thorpe may know more about it than I do."</p> + +<p>"Thorpe may know a lot of things," suggested Weston. "Better get him up +here, I say."</p> + +<p>"All right," Benjamin Crane said, after a moment's pause. "He's down at +my house,—I'll telephone him to come up here now."</p> + +<p>But when connection was made it transpired that Thorpe had left the +Crane house and nobody knew where he was.</p> + +<p>"Looks bad," said Weston, shortly. "Why'd he run away?"</p> + +<p>"See here, Mr. Weston," Crane said, "if you've any suspicion against +McClellan Thorpe just put it out of your mind. He had no hand in Mr. +Blair's death——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I didn't say he had."</p> + +<p>"I know you didn't, but you implied it, and I want to quash any such +suggestion at once."</p> + +<p>"It's absurd," Shelby agreed. "You don't know the friendship that +existed between the two men. Why, they were fellow architects and have +lived here together for over two years. They were like brothers."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, but why did Thorpe run away?"</p> + +<p>"He hasn't run away!" Crane said, "what a ridiculous charge! Merely +because he left my house, you say he's run away! He's probably on his +way up here. This is his home."</p> + +<p>"Well, until he gets here, I'll look around his room a bit," Weston +remarked, and as he went into Thorpe's bedroom, Crane followed.</p> + +<p>There was nothing sinister there. Merely the usual appointments, and +rather plain ones, for the young architects were not of luxurious tastes +or means.</p> + +<p>With a practiced eye and deft hand, Weston went through dresser drawers, +and cupboard shelves. Looked into the books on the night table, and in a +short time had satisfied himself that there was no evidence apparent, so +far.</p> + +<p>Into the bathroom next, they all went. This the two men shared, and the +detective scrutinized the glasses and brushes that were on shelves, +either side of the wash stand. They were of tidy appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> and +presented merely the array that might be expected.</p> + +<p>Weston sniffed hard at the glasses, but could detect no untoward odors, +nor any sign of poison or drugs of any sort.</p> + +<p>The small white cupboard on the wall showed only a few bottles +containing toilet appurtenances and simple medicines.</p> + +<p>"Witch Hazel, Peroxide, Talcum powder, Cholera mixture and soda mints," +he said, from the various labels,—"hello, here's laudanum! How about +that?"</p> + +<p>"No," Doctor Middleton declared, "it wasn't laudanum poisoning. It was +prussic acid. The effects are quite different, and there's no mistaking +them. I don't know what the young men were doing with laudanum, but it +wasn't that that killed Mr. Blair."</p> + +<p>"Curious, to have poison around at all," said Shelby, musingly.</p> + +<p>"Gives a hint of intended suicide," suggested Weston. "Though not +necessarily——"</p> + +<p>"I should say not!" broke in Benjamin Crane. "Gilbert Blair wasn't +coward enough to take his own life for any reason. Why, he was my son's +friend. It was an accident,—and the fact of finding that other poison +about, points toward accident, to my mind."</p> + +<p>"Just how do you make that out, Mr. Crane?" asked Weston, with a slight +smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why"—began Crane, a little lamely—"I'm not sure that I can explain, +but it appeared to me that if Blair had one poison in his possession, he +might have had the other, and——"</p> + +<p>"How do you know this laudanum was Mr. Blair's possession?" asked +Weston. "Might it not have been Mr. Thorpe's?"</p> + +<p>"How you hark back to Thorpe!" exclaimed Crane, with real petulance. "I +wish you'd stop it, Weston. If you've a definite suspicion that he +killed Gilbert Blair, say so, but don't throw out these silly hints."</p> + +<p>"Nothing especially silly about them, Mr. Crane," the detective was +quite unruffled, "only I hold that the poison we've just found is quite +as likely to be Mr. Thorpe's as Mr. Blair's. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," Shelby said, placatingly, "but that's neither here +nor there. If you have reason to think Mr. Blair was murdered, you've +reason to look for the criminal. But I don't think you've proved it was +not an accident, and until you do, it's well to be careful how you throw +suspicion about."</p> + +<p>"It's not so easy to prove an accident,—or a murder, either,—when +there's practically no clew to be found. Therefore, it's our duty to +question any one who can give any material evidence, especially one who +was presumably the last one to see Mr. Blair alive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Except the murderer,—if there was one," said Shelby.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and if he was not the murderer himself," grunted Weston.</p> + +<p>"Send for that doorman," said Middleton, a bit curtly. "Let's get +somewhere."</p> + +<p>Hastings, being summoned, appeared, and told all he knew, which was +little, and all he surmised, which was more.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "Mr. Thorpe called me, this morning, and when I came, he +was all of a shiver. He sat on the edge of that chair there, and his +teeth chattered and his voice shook——"</p> + +<p>"Small wonder!" said Crane. "Mac is a very nervous man, and a shock such +as he must have had——"</p> + +<p>"Go on, Hastings," ordered Doctor Middleton.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Thorpe said Mr. Blair was ill, and told me to go in and see +him. Now, of course, Mr. Thorpe knew Mr. Blair was dead, but he said he +was ill. Why did he do that?"</p> + +<p>"Tell your story," said Crane, scowling at him. "Don't ask fool +questions as you go along!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Well, I went in and I saw Mr. Blair was dead. And I told Mr. +Thorpe so, and he didn't seem surprised, but he was all of a blue funk, +and he said, 'Well,—get a doctor—or whatever is the thing to do.' Just +like that. He didn't show any grief or any sorrow,—only just seemed +scared to death."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And he didn't show any surprise?" This from Middleton.</p> + +<p>"Of course he didn't!" Crane cried; "of course he knew Blair was dead +when he called Hastings. I know Thorpe, and he's a most nervous +temperament. And when he called for help, as of course he had to do, it +was the most natural thing in the world for him to say that Mr. Blair +was ill. Nor would he be apt to show his grief then and there. He was +stunned, and moreover, he's not the man to talk over his sorrow with the +janitor! I say Thorpe acted as any of us would do in the same +circumstances. Now, I for one, object to having him misjudged."</p> + +<p>"You're a good champion, Mr. Crane," said Doctor Middleton, "and I don't +blame you for standing up for your friend. But he'll have to speak for +himself,—Mr. Thorpe will,—and the sooner we get hold of him the +better."</p> + +<p>"I agree to all that," Crane replied, "all I ask is that he shall not be +condemned unheard."</p> + +<p>"That's reasonable enough," granted Middleton, "but we must get hold of +him soon."</p> + +<p>"He'll come back here," Mr. Crane assured them. "He hasn't run away, as +you seem to think, but he has a natural aversion to this place, and I +shouldn't be surprised if he stayed away for a few days."</p> + +<p>"A few days! Where would he stay?" asked the Examiner.</p> + +<p>"Probably at his Club."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Which Club? I'll call it up and see if he's there now," Weston said, +briskly.</p> + +<p>"The Artists' Club. Call it, and they'll tell you something about him, +I'm sure."</p> + +<p>Weston called the Club and received word that Thorpe was there.</p> + +<p>"Ask him to speak to me," he ordered, and in a moment he was talking to +Thorpe himself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll come home right away," Thorpe agreed, when urgently invited +to do so.</p> + +<p>"I told you so," said Crane, triumphantly; "that man had no thought of +running away, but he dreads this place just now. He's of a sensitive, +nervous nature, and I hope, Mr. Weston, you'll be decent to him. No +third degree manners,—that won't help with McClellan Thorpe."</p> + +<p>They all remained awaiting Thorpe's return. Shelby busied himself +looking over some of Blair's books and papers, while Benjamin Crane +talked to Dr. Middleton.</p> + +<p>He rather liked the Medical Examiner, but he did not at all admire +detective Weston or his ways. So he endeavored to give Doctor Middleton +a mental picture of Thorpe, and prepare him for an interview that should +temper justice with mercy, or at least, consideration.</p> + +<p>Weston spent the time prowling round Blair's bedroom in search of clews. +But his keen glances could find no single thing that gave any hint of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +means or reason for suicide, nor any that suggested an accident.</p> + +<p>"Wherefore," he concluded to himself, "it's a murder. No clew, means a +careful removal of any clew,—and a mighty clever criminal at that. +Maybe it wasn't friend Thorpe, but a few words with him will convince me +one way or the other."</p> + +<p>Thorpe came, and though his expression was inscrutable and his face set +and stern, it seemed to those who knew him best that he was trying to +hold himself together and not give way to his nervousness.</p> + +<p>"Take a seat, Mr. Thorpe," Doctor Middleton said, courteously, after +Crane had introduced them; "we expect from you a straightforward account +of all you can tell us of your experiences this morning."</p> + +<p>"Why should my account be other than straightforward?" Thorpe said, +breathing hard, and making an evident effort at self-control. "I have +nothing to conceal, and if I seem distraught, it is, I dare say, not +astonishing."</p> + +<p>"Now, Mac," Mr. Crane said, kindly, "don't bristle. We're all your +friends, and we only want you——"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, Mr. Crane, why do you take that conciliatory attitude? +I've no confession to make,— I— I didn't kill Blair——"</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that?" cried Weston. "Who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> even hinted that you killed +Mr. Blair? Why do you think anybody killed him?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you?" countered Thorpe, turning an angry glance at the +detective.</p> + +<p>"I haven't said I did."</p> + +<p>"Not in so many words,—but you imply it. I tell you I didn't kill him! +I <i>didn't</i>!"</p> + +<p>Thorpe was not excited of manner, he was very calm, but his blazing eyes +and quivering mouth, and his intensity, rather than force of speech gave +him the effect of intense excitement.</p> + +<p>"Don't deny or assert, Mr. Thorpe," said Middleton, coldly. "Just tell +your story. At what time did you rise?"</p> + +<p>"About ten o'clock," was the short reply.</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"Then I bathed, shaved and dressed just as usual. I generally dress +before Mr. Blair, and I thought nothing of his silence."</p> + +<p>"His bedroom door was closed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; then, after I was dressed and about to go out to my breakfast, I +called to him through the door."</p> + +<p>"What did you say?"</p> + +<p>"I can't repeat the exact words, but it was only to the effect of +'good-by, old chap,' or maybe, 'I'm off, Blair,' or something of the +sort."</p> + +<p>"And you went on?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear him reply,—he usually says, 'All<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> right, Mac,' so I +repeated my call. Then, when he didn't respond that time, I knocked at +his door."</p> + +<p>"Fearing something was wrong?"</p> + +<p>"N-no,—not wrong,— I think I just wanted him to say something——"</p> + +<p>"Why were you so anxious he should say something?" This last from +Weston, with a direct glance.</p> + +<p>"Why, good Lord, man," Thorpe's eyes blazed, "because I am accustomed to +a reply, and when it didn't come, I naturally wondered why."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you think he might merely be asleep?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think anything about that. I acted on impulse. I didn't hear +him, and I wanted to see him."</p> + +<p>"And you did? You opened the door?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, after I knocked twice,—then I— I opened his door."</p> + +<p>"It was not locked?"</p> + +<p>"No; we never lock our bedroom doors."</p> + +<p>"Go on,—and then?"</p> + +<p>"Then"—Thorpe spoke slowly, as if choosing his words—"then, I saw him +lying in the bed,—still,—as if asleep. I went closer, and I saw by the +look on his face that he was dead."</p> + +<p>"You knew that at once?" asked Middleton. "You didn't think he was only +asleep——"</p> + +<p>"No,—the pallor was unmistakable——"</p> + +<p>"Have you often looked upon death?"</p> + +<p>"Never before,—except at a funeral."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And yet you knew at once it was death you saw,—not sleep. That is +remarkable, Mr. Thorpe."</p> + +<p>Thorpe met Middleton's eyes, and then his own fell.</p> + +<p>"I can't help that, Doctor," he said; "I was sure,—that is,—almost +sure Mr. Blair was dead."</p> + +<p>"Yet you called Hastings and told him Mr. Blair was ill."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—I couldn't seem to say the—the other——"</p> + +<p>"Why did you kill him, Mr. Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"I— I kill him! Oh, I didn't!— I told you I didn't!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but we can't believe you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>Evidence</h3> + +<p>The few days following Gilbert Blair's death were like a nightmare to +his friends. A search of his papers had revealed a probable address of +his mother, but a telegram sent there had as yet brought no reply and +though a letter was despatched, no answer could be expected to that for +a week or more.</p> + +<p>Meantime, by general consent, Benjamin Crane took charge of Blair's +affairs. The funeral took place in an undertaker's establishment and the +body was placed in a receiving vault, until Blair's people could be +heard from. His immediate possessions remained in the studio rooms, for +the lease had still six months to run, and the police objected to any +removal of the dead man's effects. It was practically impossible to seal +them up as Thorpe occupied the same rooms, but a strict surveillance was +kept, and Weston doggedly asserted he would yet track down the murderer.</p> + +<p>For no one could doubt Blair had been murdered. On the eve of the prize +competition, in which he was so deeply interested,—on the eve, as he +hoped,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> of being engaged to Carlotta Harper, whom he loved, full of life +and energy, why should he kill himself? It was impossible to accept the +theory of suicide, and the detectives were hard at work on the case.</p> + +<p>McClellan Thorpe was suspected, but as there was no evidence against +him, save his indubitable and exclusive opportunity, he had not as yet +been arrested.</p> + +<p>"His opportunity was not exclusive," Mr. Crane contended. "Those studio +apartments are not burglar proof! Anybody might have got in during the +night and administered the poison."</p> + +<p>"No," Weston objected. "It would be practically impossible for any one +to go into those rooms, force or persuade Blair to swallow poison and +get away without being heard by Mr. Thorpe or without leaving any trace +of his presence."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, Weston," Mr. Crane spoke very seriously, "you know me +well enough to know I've no notion of evading justice for anybody. But +knowing McClellan Thorpe as I do, and knowing his peculiar temperament, +I wish you'd let him alone,—at least, until you have a bit of +indisputable evidence."</p> + +<p>"I've got it, Mr. Crane."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>The two were sitting in Benjamin Crane's library, where they often met +to talk over the case. Julie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> was present, for she wanted to know every +detail of any discovery that might be made.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it!" she flared out at the detective's statement.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Crane," Weston said, "I found a pretty suspicious +circumstance to-day. Nothing less than a very small bottle, without cork +or label, but smelling unmistakably of prussic acid."</p> + +<p>"Where was it?" demanded Crane.</p> + +<p>"Hidden in an old and unused paint-box of McClellan Thorpe's."</p> + +<p>"Where was the paint-box?"</p> + +<p>"'Way back, on a cupboard shelf. Pushed back, behind a pile of old +books."</p> + +<p>"Planted evidence," suggested Crane. "The real criminal put it there to +incriminate Mr. Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"Not a chance!" said Weston, smiling. "I've had that place watched too +closely for that, sir! Nobody could get in to plant evidence, or to do +anything else without being seen by my men. No, sir, that bottle in Mr. +Thorpe's paint-box was put there by his own hand, and it will prove his +undoing."</p> + +<p>"But it's absurd!" flashed Julie. "Mr. Thorpe never killed his +friend,—but if he had done so, he wouldn't be fool enough to leave such +evidence around!"</p> + +<p>"He couldn't help himself, Miss Crane. When he used the bottle that +night, he had to secrete it somewhere, and since then he has been too +closely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> watched to dare to take it from its hiding-place and dispose of +it."</p> + +<p>"But I don't see how he could have done it," Crane objected. "How could +he persuade Blair to take a dose of poison?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in lots of ways. Say, they had a highball or that,—all he had to +do was to drop the tiniest speck from the little vial into the drink. He +could easily do that unobserved. Anyway, he did do it. Then, of course, +afterward, he had ample chance to clean the glasses and remove every +trace of crime, except that he had to conceal the bottle. This he did in +the most obvious way. Exactly the way any one would try to secrete such +a thing. The bottle had been emptied and washed, but that poison has +such an enduring odor that it is practically impossible to eliminate it +entirely. But there's the fact, Mr. Crane, now, unless another suspect +can be found, it's all up with Mr. Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll find another suspect!" exclaimed Julie.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Miss. I'll investigate your new man, as soon as you name him. +That's the important part of this affair, there's no chance of another +suspect. No one has been so much as thought of——"</p> + +<p>"That doorman?" said Julie.</p> + +<p>"Nixy! He had no motive, no opportunity,—and there's not the slightest +reason to suspect him."</p> + +<p>"Some outsider, then," went on Julie, desperately,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> "some fellow artist, +who feared Gilbert would win that prize——"</p> + +<p>"Miss Crane, you must know that's the motive attributed to Mr. Thorpe. +You must know that he and Mr. Blair were rivals in that competition +and——"</p> + +<p>Julie's eyes flashed fire. "And you mean to say that he killed his +friend,—his chum,—in order to be sure of winning the prize!"</p> + +<p>"That's the motive we're assuming. But there was doubtless a scrap,—a +row about the pictures or drawings,—in fact,— I hate to tell you these +things, but we have learned that there was bad blood between the two +men, for each thought the other had imitated his own ideas. This brought +about more or less dissension, and—well, probably both men lost their +temper, and real hatred ensued."</p> + +<p>Weston tried to adapt his language so as to spare Julie's feelings as +much as possible, for the girl was highly wrought up, and he was +genuinely sorry for her. He knew of the state of things between her and +Thorpe, knew, too, that it explained Benjamin Crane's determination to +free Thorpe from suspicion, if it could be done.</p> + +<p>But Crane was staggered by the disclosure of the hidden vial.</p> + +<p>"It's a clew," he said, but he spoke slowly and thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a clew," agreed Weston, "and it will convict the criminal. +The label,—if it ever had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> one,—has been washed off. The cork is +missing,—and, by the way, if that cork could be found it would help a +lot! But all the same, I've a notion I can trace that bottle to its +source."</p> + +<p>"How?" asked Crane. "Is it of a peculiar shape or style?"</p> + +<p>"No; just a common, ordinary two-ounce bottle, such as most druggists +use all the time. But there's no name blown in it,—that's important, +for many dealers have their names on their glassware, and a blank bottle +is conspicuous of itself."</p> + +<p>"Conspicuous by its rarity,—but not therefore traceable," said Mr. +Crane.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so,—by elimination——"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Julie cried; "you can't trace it, and you know it! You're +just making believe,—you're what do you call it? framing a case! you're +railroading McClellan Thorpe to prison! I won't have it! Father, surely +you can do something! You <i>must</i>!"</p> + +<p>Stifling her sobs, Julie ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>There was an uncomfortable silence and then Benjamin Crane said:</p> + +<p>"You see what a hard position I'm in, Weston."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"But of course," Crane sighed deeply, "justice must be done,—only I beg +of you, Weston, use every effort to find another suspect,—a logical +one,—now, don't misunderstand me! I mean, if there can possibly be a +doubt of Thorpe's guilt, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> chance of another man's guilt,—for +Heaven's sake find that other man!"</p> + +<p>"Not a chance."</p> + +<p>"But, at least, keep an open mind. And spare no expense. Get a special +detective,—a big one,—there now, don't bristle! I don't suppose you +think yourself the cleverest in the world, do you? Don't you admit any +superior? If so, get him; if not, then prove your own worth. I repeat, I +want no undue favor shown to McClellan Thorpe, but if he is not the +guilty man, then I want you to move heaven and earth to find the real +criminal. Can't you conceive, Weston, of a murderer so clever as to have +committed the crime, planted the vial as evidence against Thorpe and +made his escape leaving no clew?"</p> + +<p>"I can conceive of such a thing, sir, as I can conceive of a ghost,—but +there is no evidence for either conception."</p> + +<p>"Evidence enough for ghosts, Weston! Haven't you read my book?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I clean forgot that book you wrote, Mr. Crane. No, I haven't read +it, but my folks have, and I dare say you do believe in spooks. But, +come, now, you don't believe a spook killed Mr. Blair, do you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No,—and yet, it is within the bounds of possibility——"</p> + +<p>"Not as the police count possibility! There's small chance of any human +agency other than Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> Thorpe, but far less chance of a supernatural +agent! I'll be getting along, Mr. Crane, if you're going off on that +track."</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Weston, I'm in earnest about this special detective. Suppose I +engage a private one. Can you and he work in harmony?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'm not pig-headed. So long as he don't interfere too much, or +get me into any scrapes with his highfalutin tricks,—which they all +have, go ahead and get him. I'll do my own duty, as I see it and as it's +dictated to me by Headquarters; but if you want to engage a dozen +private detectives, there's no law against it. And, sir, I'm free to +confess I feel mighty sorry for that pretty daughter of yours, and if +anybody else can save her man for her, when I can't—why, let him at +it!"</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Weston, I hoped you'd be above petty jealousy. Go on, +now, and see if you can't connect up that empty vial with somebody whose +name isn't Thorpe,—and, I say, you're not going to arrest him yet, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Not just yet,—but,—well, I'll let you know—soon, where we stand."</p> + +<p>His visitor gone, Benjamin Crane put on his hat and went at once to see +Madame Parlato. He had acquired the habit of an interview with her when +anything bothered him, and his faith in her powers was unshaken.</p> + +<p>His request for a <i>séance</i> was granted, for since the book of Benjamin +Crane's had made such a success,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> the medium was besieged with patrons, +yet she always gave Crane the preference over other sitters.</p> + +<p>Admitted to the private sanctum, Crane told the Madame he wished to +learn anything possible concerning the death of Gilbert Blair.</p> + +<p>The medium went into a trance as usual, and after a short interval, +announced in her low monotone that the spirit of Peter Crane was +present.</p> + +<p>"My boy," said Crane, eagerly, "do you know who killed Blair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," came the reply, through the voice of Madame Parlato; "do +not seek further than you already know."</p> + +<p>"You mean it was——"</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane hesitated. He was a cautious man, and often as he had had +this sort of interviews with Peter's spirit, he was always particular to +give no information unnecessarily.</p> + +<p>"Yes,—dad,—it was."</p> + +<p>"Well, who? who, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Must I say the name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, boy. But only if you're sure you know. It would be a grave error +otherwise."</p> + +<p>The medium stirred uneasily, and was silent for a time. Then, with a +long drawn sigh, she resumed, "Well, father, if I must tell you, it was +Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter, not really!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, dad. Don't look any further,—it was Thorpe."</p> + +<p>The medium was silent after that. She came out of her trance state, +looking a little bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Did you get anything?" she asked, for, as she had frequently told her +sitter, she herself knew nothing of what transpired while she was +unconscious.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Crane returned, and knowing there would be no further +communication that day, he went home.</p> + +<p>He found Thorpe there, discussing the matter with Mrs. Crane and Julie.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do," Thorpe said, as Mr. Crane joined the group. +"I didn't kill Blair,—at least, I don't think I did."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?" Crane asked.</p> + +<p>"Only that if I did do it, it was unconsciously."</p> + +<p>"In your sleep?"</p> + +<p>"No; but under hypnotism. I've not much belief in that sort of +thing,—but,—well, you know about occult matters, might it not be +possible?"</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane was disappointed. He had hoped for a vigorous denial on +Thorpe's part, but this halfway confession seemed to him a mere quibble. +He found himself believing the man guilty and that he was using this +hypnotism suggestion as a last resort to prove innocence.</p> + +<p>"Stop it, father!" Julie cried. "You are thinking Mac did do it, having +been hypnotized by somebody!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> Well, he didn't! and I <i>know</i> he didn't +and I'll <i>prove</i> it!"</p> + +<p>"Good talk, Julie, but does it mean anything!" asked her father, giving +her a look of gentle sadness.</p> + +<p>"I'll make it mean something! That thick-witted detective doesn't know a +thing! Now, I don't believe in the hypnotism theory——"</p> + +<p>"Why, Julie," said her mother, "I've heard you say you believed in +hypnotism!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I do, but I mean not in this case. Nobody hypnotized McClellan +to kill Gilbert. I'm sure of that, and I wish you wouldn't repeat it, +Mac. People will only laugh at you."</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you going to do, my child?" asked her father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know! I'm desperate,— I will find out something!"</p> + +<p>"Of course you will, Julie, for I'll help you."</p> + +<p>It was Thorpe who spoke, and he seemed to have suddenly acquired a new +energy.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to turn detective myself," he went on. "We'll work together, +Julie, and,— Mr. Crane, if we succeed,— I mean succeed in freeing +myself from suspicion——"</p> + +<p>"And finding the real criminal," put in Crane with a very serious face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and find the real criminal," but Thorpe's face was less bright, +"then, sir, will you give us your blessing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, McClellan," but Crane's voice had no hearty ring, "yes, when you +are a free man in every sense of the word, you may take my little girl +for your own."</p> + +<p>Thorpe gave him a searching look. "I can't help seeing, Mr. Crane," he +said, "that you think,—or perhaps I may say, you fear I am guilty. I +hope I can prove to you that I am not."</p> + +<p>Crane noticed the wording of his speech. Thorpe hoped to prove to +him,—but he didn't say he was innocent.</p> + +<p>And Benjamin Crane believed the man guilty. Greatly influenced by what +he had heard at the <i>séance</i> with the medium, Crane was still willing to +be convinced to the contrary, but Thorpe's own attitude and words did +not carry conviction.</p> + +<p>"Well, my children," Crane said at last, "here's my proposition. I can't +think your determination to do detective work will produce much fruit. +Now, if you like, I'll engage the best detective I can find and put him +on the job. What say, Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>It was a test question, and Crane eagerly awaited the answer. If Thorpe +were really innocent, he would welcome the clever sleuthing that would +be likely to unearth the truth.</p> + +<p>But he was disappointed to hear Thorpe say, "Not yet, Mr. Crane. Give us +a chance. Let me try,—let us try,"—with a glance at Julie—"give us a +few days, at least,—then, if we gain nothing,—then bring on your +detective."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But,— I hate to say it, Mac, though I dare say you know it,—you may +be arrested any day now."</p> + +<p>Thorpe gave a start, and the sudden pallor that came to his face showed +how the idea affected him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not that,—hardly that——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's imminent." Crane thought best to tell him this. "They—they +say they've got the goods on you, Mac."</p> + +<p>"What—what do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Crane couldn't bring himself to tell of the poison bottle, +"well, my boy, they say that you and Blair quarreled."</p> + +<p>"We did."</p> + +<p>"Over the sketches for the prizes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, over those, and over other matters."</p> + +<p>"When was this?"</p> + +<p>"We'd been scrapping off and on for some time. Nothing very serious. +But,—well, when Gilbert implied that I had used his ideas, I—I got +mad."</p> + +<p>"And saw red?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose that's what they call it."</p> + +<p>"The night he—he died?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Mac," Benjamin Crane looked grave, "suppose you tell me just what +happened that night."</p> + +<p>"Well,—we'd all been to the Club to dinner, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And when we went home, Bob Knight went with us. He was irritating, +somehow,—said he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> heard Blair and I had combined on our work——"</p> + +<p>"Why was that annoying?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it implied that Gilbert and I took each other's ideas, or +something,— I don't know,—anyway, he stirred us up, and when he went +off, Gil and I were touchy. We had some words, and Blair tore up his +sketches, a-and—tore up some of mine, too."</p> + +<p>"He did! No wonder you were annoyed."</p> + +<p>"Yes; they were the ones I had ready,—or, almost ready, to send in."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Crane, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's little more to tell. I went into my bedroom and slammed +the door. Yes, I slammed it, for I had lost my temper, and I was mad at +Blair."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything more to tell. I heard Blair around the studio for +a time, and once I heard his footsteps near my door, as if he wanted to +speak to me,—maybe make up,—but he didn't say anything or knock, or +call out,—and then, after a time I heard him go into his own bedroom +and close the door."</p> + +<p>"And you heard nothing through the night?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing unusual. The ordinary sounds in the building, of course."</p> + +<p>"And you stayed in your room,—in your bed,—till morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did. I sleep very soundly, and I sleep late. The details of the +morning, and my finding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> of Blair,—you know. Don't ask me to recount +all that again."</p> + +<p>"No; I shan't. Are you going on with your work for the competition?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" Thorpe's face showed surprise at the question. "Why should +I not? I rescued the torn sketches from the waste-basket, and I can copy +them. I've a good chance at it, I think."</p> + +<p>"Now that Blair's out of the running?"</p> + +<p>Thorpe looked up angrily, but as suddenly he became calm. "No, Mr. +Crane," he said, "not because of that. But because Gilbert can't steal +my plans."</p> + +<p>"Unpleasant talk, Mac. I don't like that."</p> + +<p>"But it's true. Blair did take my ideas——"</p> + +<p>"Consciously?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. Why, he incorporated in his design, a particular bit of +drawing that I had invented and shown to him only a day or two before."</p> + +<p>"You must see, McClellan, that your saying that puts a bad face on the +whole affair?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it does," and the man again relapsed into moody silence. "Oh, +well,—it's all in a lifetime."</p> + +<p>"A lifetime that has just ended,—or one still being lived?" Benjamin +Crane spoke like an avenging justice, and there was no mistaking his +meaning.</p> + +<p>But beyond a startled glance, Thorpe made no reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>Carlotta and the Board</h3> + +<p>Much as Benjamin Crane desired to believe in Thorpe's innocence it was +difficult for him to do so, after the disclosure of the medium, Madame +Parlato. In her powers he had absolute faith, of her honesty and +sincerity he was entirely confident, and it was largely the accounts of +her <i>séances</i> that made the bulk of his book about his son's +communications with him. The <i>séances</i> were frequent, still, and at each +one he gained more material for use in a second book.</p> + +<p>The book, the one already published, was in its fourth edition and was +still having large sales. It was called "A Prophecy Fulfilled," and +dealt with the old prophecy of the gypsy,—that Peter should be lost +while on a distant journey, should die a terrible death there, but +should mysteriously return to his family.</p> + +<p>This, Benjamin Crane held, had been accomplished in full. The long +journey, the terrible death, were matters of fact, and Mr. and Mrs. +Crane believed that the return of their son was equally a matter of +fact.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wherefore, the book was written in a simple, straightforward style, +without excitement or exaggeration, and it gave detailed recitals of the +happenings at the <i>séances</i>.</p> + +<p>Needless to say that the medium was besieged with would-be clients, but +she accepted very few, for the Cranes claimed most of her time. Not that +they were continually in her presence, but the exhaustive nature of her +trances made it impossible for her to devote many hours a day to their +practice. And Benjamin Crane made it quite worth her while, financially, +to reserve for him her peculiar talents.</p> + +<p>The sessions brought forth little that was new or different, but the +parents never tired of what they implicitly believed was absolute direct +communication with their son's spirit through the personality of Madame +Parlato.</p> + +<p>Criticism, disapproval, even ridicule from their friends and +acquaintances moved them not a jot from their faith and trust.</p> + +<p>Wiser and better people than we, believe in it,—they would argue,—and +it is now so much a part of our lives, that I think we could scarcely +live without it.</p> + +<p>And so, they went along, cheered and made happy by the communications +and fully reconciled thereby to the death of their cherished son.</p> + +<p>Julie, though never quite satisfied of the truth of the whole matter, +had become more or less imbued<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> with the atmosphere that she lived in, +and aside from her own feelings, was glad that her parents could be +happy in their grief, even though it were a delusion.</p> + +<p>And the popularity of this book brought him absorbing work and many +outside interests to Benjamin Crane. Continually, people came to see +him, to discuss the question of Continuity, or Life after Death, and to +argue for or against the reappearance of departed spirits.</p> + +<p>Many of these he saw and learned to like and his circle of acquaintances +was continually enlarging.</p> + +<p>Naturally, when he discussed matters with them, the subject of Gilbert +Blair's death was talked of. Crane was a careful man, and rarely told +what happened at his <i>séances</i>, save in a general way. For he had +learned of the dangers of having his statements misquoted and +exaggerated, and as a rule, he was canny enough to let his visitors +talk, while he said little.</p> + +<p>And from the consensus of opinion thus gathered, he discovered that +public sentiment was largely against McClellan Thorpe. This troubled +him, for if Thorpe were guilty it was surely Crane's duty to guard his +daughter from a criminal. On the other hand, Julie was so deeply in love +with Thorpe, and so positive that he was in no way a wrong-doer, that +the father's heart was torn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>But his most vital reason for believing in Thorpe's guilt was the +message from his son to that effect.</p> + +<p>"It rests between our two children," he said to his wife. "Peter tells +us Mac is the guilty man,—and Julie tells us he isn't. Now, we must +learn the truth. I'm going to get a detective, myself,— I've had a fine +one recommended,—and I don't think we need say anything to Julie or Mac +about it. They asked for a few days to do some 'detecting' on their own +account,—but it won't amount to anything, I feel sure. So I'm going to +engage Pennington Wise,—if I can get him. I'm told he's a most +successful man, though not one of the 'wizards' or know-it-all variety."</p> + +<p>"Very well," Mrs. Crane, as always, agreed; "but don't tell anybody. +Need you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll tell Weston. It wouldn't be fair not to. You see, I'm in a +peculiar position. I've taken the responsibility of investigating +Blair's death, without any real authority, save that of a friend."</p> + +<p>"Of course your reason is that Julie cares for him."</p> + +<p>"Of course. And I do hope he can be cleared, but if not, it would better +be proved against him, and let Julie know it, and get over it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mrs. Crane sighed. "Poor child, it would go hard with her."</p> + +<p>"But she must bear it, if it's the truth. I've hopes of Wise's +discovering another criminal."</p> + +<p>"Then what about Peter's message?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know,—but it's possible Peter may himself be misinformed. You +know we've discovered that the disembodied spirits are not omniscient."</p> + +<p>In the meantime Carlotta Harper was endeavoring to use her occult powers +to solve the mystery of Blair's death.</p> + +<p>Carlotta herself was a mystery. Disavowing any especial clairvoyant +ability, she yet achieved marvelous results from the Ouija Board.</p> + +<p>She scoffed at it herself, yet whenever her finger-tips were on the +board it spelled words rapidly and gave messages that were acclaimed as +truth by the audience.</p> + +<p>One afternoon Shelby was with her, and he, a little timidly, suggested a +trial of the Board.</p> + +<p>"Why, Kit, I thought you detested it," said Carly, surprised.</p> + +<p>"I do; but you're a witch at it, and—suppose it should tell us +something about Blair,—something we don't know——"</p> + +<p>"You think Mac did it, don't you?" Carly spoke hesitantly, for the two +had discussed the subject very little.</p> + +<p>"I don't say so, Carly, yet where else is there to look? If you had +seen, as I did, how much at odds the two chaps were that evening I +dropped in——"</p> + +<p>"The night of the dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in the late afternoon. They were rowing no end! Then I went off, +but I called for them on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> the way to the feast,—we always go +together,—and Blair was in a regular stew. Nervous,—couldn't get his +tie right,—and all that. And—Carly,—what do you think? He asked me if +I'd drop you! Think of that! As if I were a sort of man to interfere +with a friend's interests! Why, if he'd told me there was anything +between you two, of course I should have stepped down and out at once. +Was there, Carly?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing definite,—no." The girl spoke wearily, pushing back her thick +mass of dark, wavy hair. "No, Kit, nothing promised. If he had +lived—oh, I don't know. You see, I loved Peter. And I sometimes think I +never can care at all for any one else."</p> + +<p>"But, dear, Peter's dead and Blair's dead,—and you can't live all your +life alone: Just give me a ray of hope, Carly. I won't bother you about +it,—only tell me that some time,—maybe——"</p> + +<p>"Let it stay at that, Kit. Some time it may be—and now come on,—if you +like we'll try the Ouija."</p> + +<p>The session was interesting. Carly never, in any circumstances, pushed +or guided the board in the very least,—nor did she ever sit with any +one whom she suspected of doing so. But with her friends in whom she had +perfect confidence, or with acquaintances who, she knew were eagerly +wanting to learn, not anxious to tell, she often tried the uncanny +thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lightly they rested their finger-tips on the little wooden heart, and +after a short wait it began to move.</p> + +<p>At Carly's questions, replies came that there was a spirit present and +that it was Peter Boots.</p> + +<p>Neither of the inquirers was surprised at this, for they had fully +expected it. Moreover, both had watched most closely the other's muscles +and fingers and wrists, and each was positive the messages, whatever +their source, were not the result of human deceit.</p> + +<p>After some preliminary talk, Carly said, "You put the questions, Kit."</p> + +<p>So Shelby said, "Peter, you know Blair's gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned the board.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen him—or I mean, is he with you—in spirit?"</p> + +<p>"Yes" came the answer.</p> + +<p>"Will he talk to us?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well—then can you give us a message from him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Yes and No are designated on the Ouija Board as words. The movement of +the Board toward these was quick, almost jerky.</p> + +<p>But when the message was asked for,—when Shelby said, "Will he tell us +how he died?" there was a pause and the Board moved aimlessly about.</p> + +<p>At last, Carly said, "Peter, was Gilbert killed?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," came the quick reply.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who killed him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Who was it?"</p> + +<p>Carly shot out the question quickly, and immediately the board moved to +T. From that, as the two breathlessly waited, the pointer very slowly +spelled Thorpe.</p> + +<p>The word did not go smoothly,—the board swung round in large loops, but +paused positively at each letter, and then started slowly to the next.</p> + +<p>"You didn't push, Kit?" Carly asked, but more from force of habit than +any doubt of him.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Nobody could push with you watching, nor was there any +reason why I should. Did you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Don't let's ask each other that. We're both honest. But +you know, Kit, Mr. Crane had a communication from Peter and he said +Thorpe did it. But Mr. Crane thinks maybe Peter doesn't know."</p> + +<p>"Let's try to get Blair's spirit."</p> + +<p>They tried,—if receptive waiting can be called trying,—and at last +they succeeded in receiving the information that Gilbert Blair's spirit +was present.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell us who killed you?" Carly asked at once, fearing lest he +go away.</p> + +<p>Slowly the pointer moved away from the letter T. But after a series of +swirls it stopped definitely at M.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go on," said Carly, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>A long swing of aimless motions and then a stop at A.</p> + +<p>The next stop was at C, and then the board would move no more.</p> + +<p>Carly sighed, and took her hands off.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's the message, Kit. You know Gilbert always called him +Mac,—now what do you think of Ouija?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was in +both our minds, and that we subconsciously——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to be +said. It's easy enough to say that,—but how can the dead send messages +if the human beings always say,—oh, subconscious pushing!"</p> + +<p>"But, are you so anxious to believe in Thorpe's guilt?"</p> + +<p>"Not that,—but I want to know. Julie's devoted to him, and if he's a—a +murderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,—we must find it +out, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion."</p> + +<p>"We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in so far as I can help. You say, everybody says, that I have +occult powers. If so, I must use them to help,—if they really do help. +But how can I be sure?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. But I think, perhaps, you'd better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> leave the whole +occult business alone. It's uncanny if it's real, and it's foolishness +if it's faked."</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Crane is going to get a special detective," Carly said, +"but, oh, my gracious, I forgot I promised not to tell that. So don't +tell anybody else. I don't suppose they'd mind you knowing."</p> + +<p>"Who's the man?"</p> + +<p>"I think his name is Wise,—good name for a detective!"</p> + +<p>"Never heard of him. But, let's hope he clears Mac."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and finds the real murderer. Do you know I can't realize Gilbert's +gone,—even yet."</p> + +<p>"Don't think about him, Carly. It can't do any good, and it only makes +you sad and morbid. Let me tell you of my hopes and fears, mayn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, go ahead."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm getting up a big,—a really big enterprise."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't disapprove, but it's in the Moving Picture business."</p> + +<p>"Why should I disapprove?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, some people sniff at M. P's. But this is a really big, fine +production."</p> + +<p>"Are you the producer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; don't tell it outside, yet. You see, I've written a big story,—a +picturesque thriller,—and critics who've read it, think it's a wonder. +Now, it's too big to give to anybody,— I mean, it would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> be foolish for +me merely to get a royalty,—so I'm going to put it on, myself."</p> + +<p>"Good, Kit, I'm glad to hear it. I always thought you had it in you to +be some sort of an organizer or producer, in some important way."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've always had that ambition. Well, this is a great yarn! I want +to read it to you some time. Marvelous pictures,—they're being made +now. And that's not all of it,— I mean to make it into a book——"</p> + +<p>"You can't write a book!"</p> + +<p>"If I can't I'll get it written,—but the plot is such a wonder,—and +the scenes!"</p> + +<p>"Up in Labrador, I'll bet!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are, Carly. And corkers! Well, I figure to have the book and +the pictures sprung on an unsuspecting public simultaneously,—and +afterward,—maybe, it will be made into a real play!"</p> + +<p>"And after that, into a Light Opera,—and after that, into Grand Opera?"</p> + +<p>Carly's tone was mocking, but her smile was sweet and approving, and Kit +beamed at her.</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd be interested! I want you to hear the plot soon,—and +would you like to go to the studios?"</p> + +<p>"Where they're making the Labrador pictures?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; they're faked, of course. No sense in going up there to take them. +I know the stuff so well, I can get it up right here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kit, you ought to have the real scenes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; it isn't necessary. Snow's easy enough to manage. But the plot's +the thing! Carly, it's a peach! And then, it's all done up with real +artistry. No crude, raw scenes. All softened with lights and shades and +colors; and everything,—even realism, sacrificed to beauty. It will be +the success of the season, the talk of the town, and it will make my +reputation forever."</p> + +<p>"When will it be put on?"</p> + +<p>"Soon, now, I hope. Well, I mean in a month or so. I'd like to say the +middle of May, and think perhaps I can. It will run all summer and +doubtless longer."</p> + +<p>"And you don't want me to tell of this?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite yet, Carly. I'll let you know when you may."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And so, when, after Shelby had gone, and Julie and Thorpe came, Carly +said nothing of the plans for the great Moving Picture.</p> + +<p>Nor did she tell of the Ouija Board experiences she and Shelby had had. +In fact, Carly said little, preferring to let her guests talk.</p> + +<p>And they did.</p> + +<p>"We're detecting," Julie began, and Thorpe, his eyes harassed and +gloomy, had to smile at Julie's enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Can I help?" Carly asked, with a loving glance at her friend.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope so,—but not with your old Ouija Board. I hate it!"</p> + +<p>"Wait till I suggest it," Carly smiled, for she saw Julie was in no mood +for argument. "What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Only advise. I don't think you're a medium, Carly, but I do think you +have sort of queer powers. Now a queer thing has happened to me. This +morning, on my bureau, there lay a note,—here it is." She handed a +folded paper to Carlotta.</p> + +<p>It read: "Dear little sister. You <i>must</i> give up old Mac. He did for +Gilbert. Peter Boots."</p> + +<p>Carly stared at the note.</p> + +<p>"It's in Peter's own writing!" she said; "what can it mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means fraud!" Julie exclaimed. "I know that's no note from Peter! It +is in his writing——"</p> + +<p>"But so exactly his writing!" Carly said, "nobody could have written +that but Peter himself. Oh, Julie!"</p> + +<p>"Now, stop, Carly! Don't you say it's really a materialization of a note +from Peter! It can't be! I'm afraid to show it to mother or Dad, for I +know they'll say it's really from him,—and I won't believe it."</p> + +<p>"You won't believe it's from Peter, because you don't want to believe +what it says,—isn't that it?"</p> + +<p>Carly looked at Thorpe, though she spoke to Julie.</p> + +<p>"Partly," Julie admitted; "but anyway, I can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> believe that Peter,—my +dead brother,—put that real, paper note on my dresser!"</p> + +<p>"If it had said Mac didn't kill Gilbert, would you believe it then?" +Carly asked.</p> + +<p>Julie stared at her, as she took in the question.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said at last, "in that case, I'd want to believe,—but I +don't see how I could——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you could, all right," Carly said, "if it meant Mac's innocence was +thereby established."</p> + +<p>"I'm out for justice," Thorpe said; "I hate to hurt Julie's feelings, +but that note doesn't interest me at all,—one way or the other. You +see, if it's a fake,—and I can't help thinking it is, it's somewhat in +my favor, for if faked must it not have been done by the real murderer, +trying to put the blame on me? And if it's real—but, I never discuss +that sort of thing at all. I'm not a believer,—as the Cranes believe, +and yet, feeling toward the Crane family as I do, I refuse to combat +their beliefs or principles. So, as I say, I leave the note out of my +consideration. And, yet, Carlotta, I do want your opinion as to the +genuineness of the handwriting, because you know Peter's fist so +well,—and you're even less likely to be deceived than his family."</p> + +<p>Carly scrutinized the note again.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me it must be Peter's writing," she said at last. "Those +long tails to the filial letters of the words, those are characteristic. +And it's—yes, it's unmistakably his."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right," Thorpe sighed. "I just wanted to know, for Mr. Crane will +know of it sooner or later, and I'm sure he'll identify it as Peter's +writing.</p> + +<p>"And it surely is," Julie added, again staring at the paper.</p> + +<p>"But, Julie, it's <i>too</i> absurd!" Second thoughts convinced Carly of +this. "How could such a thing happen?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know how it could, but it did," Julie said, doggedly. "And so, +Carly, I feel, as Mac says, there's no attention to be paid to this +note. If—mind I say <i>if</i>—Peter sent it, why then Peter thinks Mac did +something that he didn't do, that's all. I know Mac is innocent, and so +I shall say nothing of this note to any one, and you mustn't either."</p> + +<p>"I won't," Carly smiled to herself as she realized how many secrets she +was accumulating, "but you will, Julie. You can't keep that from your +father, even though you mean to."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can, if to tell of it would cast a straw of evidence against +Mac! You see, Carly, we've got to find the real criminal, and I'd rather +do it myself than get a new detective on the job."</p> + +<p>Carly knew this was because Julie feared the astuteness of the new +detective. Which, in turn, meant that Julie, herself, feared Mac's +guilt. Oh, it was a tightly closing net round Mac, as she saw it!</p> + +<p>"I wish I could help," she found herself saying,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> most unconsciously, so +deeply was she thinking. "But, Julie, you two can do nothing. What are +you expecting to accomplish?"</p> + +<p>"Success," Thorpe made reply. "Complete success. It may sound absurd, +but I think that note is a help to my cause rather than hindrance!"</p> + +<p>"I think so, too," said Carlotta.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>Wise and Zizi</h3> + +<p>"Well, Julie, my little girl, the jig is up."</p> + +<p>Thorpe spoke despairingly, and Julie knew only too well what he meant.</p> + +<p>"They're—they're going——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they're going to arrest me. This is the last call I can pay you."</p> + +<p>Julie didn't break down and cry, nor indeed did she show great emotion +of any sort. She set her curved red lips firmly and said, with an air of +determination:</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure, Mac, that it isn't better so. I mean now we've something +definite to work against. Father's going to get that Mr. Wise, and he'll +soon get you out of—out of—oh, Mac, will they put you in prison? In a +cell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, until the trial. You see, that little bottle did it for me."</p> + +<p>"And somebody put that in your old paint-box! Who did it, Mac?"</p> + +<p>"Hastings is the only one I can think of. That man never liked me— I +don't know why, but he never did. And he adored Gilbert——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't think he killed Gilbert, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, no! He was always fond of him. But he wants to get me in bad, +and so I think he planted that bottle. It must have been planted, Julie, +I never put it there. I never had it in my possession."</p> + +<p>"Who did kill Gilbert?"</p> + +<p>"I've no idea, but I don't think it was anybody we know. I'm inclined to +the belief that it was some enemy, of long standing. You know Gilbert +Blair's past life was by no means an open book to his friends. He had +turned-down pages that we never knew about or inquired into. It would +not have been impossible for some one to get into his room in the +night——"</p> + +<p>"And give him poison? Not likely!"</p> + +<p>"But it must have been something of the sort, Julie. Blair never killed +himself."</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not. Oh, Mac, how unfortunate that you and he quarreled +so much. Otherwise they wouldn't have suspected you at all."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they would. It's opportunity they consider, exclusive +opportunity."</p> + +<p>"And that empty bottle! I should think they'd see that's a plant!"</p> + +<p>"They don't see anything an inch away from their noses! I'm the nearest +suspect to hang a charge on, so they choose me."</p> + +<p>Thorpe wasn't pettish, but he was discouraged and unstrung. He knew that +his arrest, which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> imminent, was, in part, due to the assertions of +the medium and the Ouija Board. These secrets had leaked out somehow, +and though the detective, Weston, would have scorned to acknowledge it, +he had been more or less biased in his estimates of other evidence by +what he had heard of supernatural communications.</p> + +<p>But of this Thorpe hesitated to speak to Julie. For it was her father +who had brought those things about, and while Thorpe had no use for the +whole mediumistic business, he rarely said so to the Crane family.</p> + +<p>And the note that purported to be from Peter, he believed a bare-faced +fraud. He couldn't understand it, nor imagine how it had been managed, +but he would not believe that it was the work of the dead Peter Crane.</p> + +<p>And so, he submitted helplessly to arrest, for there was no way to prove +his innocence. He had tried "detective work" on his own account, but it +amounted to nothing. The police held that it was an "open and shut" +case, and that Thorpe must have been the murderer.</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane, though all unwilling to condemn Thorpe, was, of course, +greatly swayed by the supernatural messages, and couldn't help his +belief in them. But, for Julie's sake, and to give Thorpe every possible +chance, he had engaged Pennington Wise, and had invited him to stay at +the Crane house while conducting his investigation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>So Wise came, and with him came his queer little assistant, the girl +called Zizi.</p> + +<p>There was ample room in the big city house, and the two were treated as +honored guests.</p> + +<p>Wise was alert, quick-witted and tactful, but Zizi was even more so. She +made friends with the Cranes at once, and they all admired the odd, +fascinating girl. Small of stature, dark of coloring, Zizi was not +unlike a gypsy, and the mention of this brought about the tale of the +gypsy's prophecy regarding Peter Boots.</p> + +<p>"What an interesting story," the girl said, after hearing Benjamin Crane +tell it. "It is wonderful how you dear people bear your loss so +bravely."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't really a loss," said Mrs. Crane, "you see, we have our boy +with us continually."</p> + +<p>It was only by desperate effort that Zizi kept from laughing, for of all +fads or whims, spiritism seemed to her the worst and most foolish. But +she was there on business, and part of her business was to gather all +the information she could regarding this same spiritism, so she showed +only deep interest and apparent sympathy with their beliefs.</p> + +<p>"You do believe in these things, don't you?" Mrs. Crane asked, and, +being thus confronted, Zizi had to answer directly.</p> + +<p>"It's hard to say," she replied, "for, you see, I've had so little real +experience. Practically none. But I'm eager to learn, and most +interested in what you tell me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm a frank unbeliever," declared Pennington Wise. He had considered +the matter and concluded it was better to state this fact and thereby +rouse the others to defense.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be, Mr. Wise," Benjamin Crane said, "if you'd had the +experiences we're continually enjoying. You've read my book?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Crane, and an able, well written work it is. But you must +number some among your friends who find difficulty in accepting it in +just the way you do."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, and though I do what I can to convince them, I think none +the less of them for their honest unbelief. But with you right here in +the house, Mr. Wise, it will, I'm sure, be an easy matter to make a +convert of you."</p> + +<p>"We'll see; at any rate, I'm ready to be converted if you can do it. +Now, let's begin with that note your daughter received from—ah, shall I +say from your son?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, it was from my son. You may compare the writing with Peter's +own—we've lots of his letters, and I think you'll be convinced it's no +forgery."</p> + +<p>"And it doesn't seem illogical to you," Wise went on, as he took the +papers Crane handed to him, "that your son should materialize this +paper, this note, and leave it for you, when, if he can do such things, +he doesn't write a letter to his mother or to you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"From the average mortal's point of view there is much that seems +illogical in spiritism," Crane said, easily, as if quite accustomed to +answering such arguments; "we who believe, never question why or why +not. We merely accept."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Crane, "and when we are granted such wonderful boons as +we are, it seems ungrateful and ungracious to ask for anything we do not +get. When I hear my son's voice——"</p> + +<p>"Do you recognize his voice?" asked Zizi.</p> + +<p>"I can hardly say that, my dear, but we have heard Peter talk so often, +through the medium, that it almost <i>seems</i> like his voice."</p> + +<p>"And he told you that Mr. Thorpe was responsible for Mr. Blair's death?" +Zizi went on, wanting a plain statement.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he told us that."</p> + +<p>"Then how can you have any doubt of it?"</p> + +<p>"Spirits do not know everything. It is quite as likely for them to be +misinformed as for earthly people to be. It may be that my boy doesn't +know who killed Gilbert Blair, but has some reason to think it was Mr. +Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it was?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say that," Mrs. Crane looked very serious, "nor can I deny it. +We are all so fond of Mr. Thorpe that we can scarcely bring ourselves to +believe ill of him——"</p> + +<p>"But if he is a criminal, we want to know it," her husband interrupted +her. "Mr. Thorpe is engaged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> to my daughter, and if he is an innocent +man, I want it made clear to the world. If not, then, of course, the +engagement must be broken."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> an innocent man," Zizi said, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you darling!" cried Julie, running across the room to embrace her. +"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"By that letter," and Zizi pointed to the note from Peter, which she had +been scrutinizing and comparing with some old letters of Peter's.</p> + +<p>"You think it isn't from my brother?"</p> + +<p>"I know it isn't. I've made a study of handwriting, and whoever wrote +that wrote it in imitation of your brother's writing. I mean the writer +was disguising his own hand and imitating your brother's."</p> + +<p>"How can you tell? They are very much alike."</p> + +<p>"That's just it. The salient points are imitated, the long terminal +strokes, the peculiarities of the capitals, but the less conspicuous +details, such as slant and spacing, are not so carefully copied. It is a +forgery, and though well done enough to deceive the average observer, it +would not deceive an expert."</p> + +<p>"What a lot you know!" and Julie looked at the other girl in surprised +admiration.</p> + +<p>"'Course I do. It's my business to know things. Am I right about this, +Penny Wise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, smiling at her. "I thought you'd see it. Moreover, Mr. +Crane, this note was written by a man, or by a person capable of deep, +even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> venomous hatred. If, as may well be the case, it was written by +the murderer of Mr. Blair, and with an intent to throw suspicion on Mr. +Thorpe, then we must look for a criminal of great cleverness and of +patience and perseverance in the workings of his nefarious plans. I mean +a nature of inborn evil, capable of premeditated wrong. This murder of +Gilbert Blair was no impulsive or suddenly brought about job. It was +carefully planned and carefully carried out. If you will show me some of +Mr. Thorpe's writing I will tell you if he forged this note."</p> + +<p>"No, he did not," Wise asserted, after a study of a letter of Thorpe's, +which they gave him; "we cannot say this note signed with your son's +name was written by the criminal we're looking for, but we can be sure +it was not written by McClellan Thorpe. You see, Mr. Crane, penmanship +is a very exact science. Some one forged your son's writing, but he or +she was utterly unable to omit the personal characteristics that are in +every one's hand."</p> + +<p>"And you can deduce character even from a forged hand?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely. It is those inevitable and unmistakable signs that make the +individual writing a true mirror of character."</p> + +<p>"But it is often impossible to determine the sex of a writer," Zizi +informed them. "Frequently, to be sure, penmanship is undoubtedly that +of a man or a woman, but sometimes it is not definitely evident.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> In +this case, I think we have the work of a man, but I can't be sure."</p> + +<p>"Who would do it, anyway?" queried Mrs. Crane.</p> + +<p>"Any one interested in concealing the identity of the murderer and +desiring to have Mr. Thorpe suspected. A clever person, because, knowing +of Miss Crane's love of her brother and also knowing of your interest in +the occult, it would doubtless seem to you a strong bit of evidence."</p> + +<p>"It did," Benjamin Crane admitted, "at least, until you proved to us +that it is not a note from my son at all. But you must remember, Mr. +Wise, that we are in no way doubting my son's communications with us in +other ways. If this is not from him, that does not cast doubt on other +communications we have had from him. And, as he has repeatedly told us +that Mr. Thorpe is responsible for Blair's death, I can only say that my +boy may be mistaken, and I sincerely hope he is."</p> + +<p>"Of course, he is," Julie cried. "Peter has sent us other messages that +turned out to be untrue, but he was mistaken."</p> + +<p>"You believe in the mediums, then?" asked Zizi, flashing her big dark +eyes at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. I didn't at first, and I was unwilling to, but I've +heard so much and seen so much, and, of course, I can't help being +influenced by Dad and Mother."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," agreed Zizi. "It's all so interesting to me. I'm only +afraid I'll become so absorbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> in the spirits that I'll neglect the +detective work."</p> + +<p>"It may be they're interdependent," Wise observed.</p> + +<p>"They are, I'm sure," said Julie. "You see, Mr. Wise, it's not only +father and the medium that have told us things against Mr. Thorpe, but +we have a friend who is an expert on the Ouija Board——"</p> + +<p>Zizi rolled her eyes skyward.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she groaned, "I thought you people were real honest-to-goodness +Spiritists!"</p> + +<p>"We are," defended Crane.</p> + +<p>"Not if you fool with an Ouija Board!"</p> + +<p>"But Carly, Miss Harper, can make it tell wonderful things," Julie went +on, "things of which she really knows nothing."</p> + +<p>"But the other person at the Board knows them?"</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe; but they can't get Ouija to tell them without Miss Harper +has her fingers on, too."</p> + +<p>"And Ouija is against Mr. Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; at least it has said he was guilty, but, as you say, an Ouija +Board means nothing."</p> + +<p>"It means something, indeed, but not the thing it says."</p> + +<p>"A brilliant remark, Zizi!" Wise smiled at her.</p> + +<p>"But I mean just that, Penny. I'm getting a line on this thing, and I +think that the criminal or the criminal's friends or accomplices are +utilizing occult forces in their own behalf. I think, Miss Crane, the +more messages you get telling you of Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> Thorpe's guilt the more you +may believe in his innocence!"</p> + +<p>"Look out, Ziz, don't go too fast," Wise counseled her. "You've only +begun this thing—there's a lot yet to be learned."</p> + +<p>"I'll learn it, and I'm sure I'm headed in the right direction. And I'd +like very much to see this Miss Harper. The Ouija witch! Has she told +you to suspect Mr. Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"Don't put it that way," Julie begged. "Miss Harper is my dearest +friend, and whatever she does with the Ouija Board is absolutely honest +on her part, absolutely free from deceit."</p> + +<p>"Then she's a unique case," declared Zizi. "Never has such a thing been +known to science." Her smile robbed the words of invidious intent, and +though Julie stood up for Carlotta's innocence, she had always wondered +whether there was not some involuntary, even unconscious helping along +done to the little board.</p> + +<p>"Let's go to see her now," she suggested, and Wise agreeing, the two +girls started off.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"This is Miss——?" Julie looked inquiringly at the girl she was about +to introduce to Carlotta, remembering she didn't know her last name.</p> + +<p>"Just Zizi," was the smiling reply, and the slim little dark hand was +held out in greeting. "I'm so glad to know you, Miss Harper. For, though +I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> admit I don't believe in Ouija, I am interested, and Miss Crane tells +me you never 'push'."</p> + +<p>"No, I never do that," Carlotta smiled, "but don't think I believe in +the thing, for I don't at all. It amuses me, and it puzzled me, at +first, but now I understand it, and it's beginning to lose interest for +me."</p> + +<p>"Understand it?" Zizi looked bewildered. "You mean——"</p> + +<p>"I mean I know what makes it work, why it tells the truth, when it does +tell the truth, and why it fibs when it does fib."</p> + +<p>Carly Harper's face was frank and honest; she had no effect of mystery +or clairvoyant power, and Zizi was bewildered.</p> + +<p>"I am indeed glad to know you!" she exclaimed, "will you impart this +knowledge to me, or is it a secret?"</p> + +<p>"It's not a secret, perhaps it isn't knowledge, it's, after all, only my +own theory, or rather, discovery, based on long and wide experience."</p> + +<p>Zizi was enchanted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, goody!" she cried, her black eyes dancing. "I'm crazy to know just +what you mean! Will you give me a session with the board?"</p> + +<p>"Will you promise not to push?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, and, anyway, you'd know it if I did."</p> + +<p>So Carly got the board, and the two sat at it, while Julie looked on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>The usual routine followed, and at last the professed spirit of Peter +Crane was "present."</p> + +<p>On being asked if Thorpe killed Gilbert Blair, the Ouija Board promptly +replied "No."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter, the other day you said he did!" Carlotta exclaimed, but +again the Board flew to the corner where "No" was printed.</p> + +<p>Julie, watching closely, was sure neither of the girls in any way +cheated or helped things along. She was an acute observer, and she was +certain both the manipulators were strictly sincere.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," Zizi said, her thin, dark fingers merely touching the +little wooden heart, "who did?"</p> + +<p>There was no reply. Motionless the board remained, and no persuasion +would induce it to move.</p> + +<p>Other subjects were brought up, questions were asked to which only +Carlotta knew the answer, or to which only Zizi did, and they were +answered, if not always definitely, at least in a general way. But when +they returned to the question about Blair there was no response.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?" Carlotta demanded of Peter's "spirit," which +obligingly announced its presence when requested.</p> + +<p>But the board remained stationary, and they finally gave it up.</p> + +<p>"All of which goes to prove my theory the true one," Carlotta declared, +and then Zizi begged her to disclose her discoveries.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, it's this way," Carlotta began,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> "you get out of the +Ouija Board exactly what you bring to it, no more, no less."</p> + +<p>"Just what do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"That nobody gets any information from the board unless it is already in +his mind. When we ask questions, to which one of us knows the answer, +that answer comes. Mind you, I don't mean that one of us pushes the +board in the right direction, at least not consciously, but it is +inevitable that the mind leaps ahead, and when a word is started we +know, usually, what letter is coming next, and we receptively await it. +You see, unless you hold your hands still purposely, the board is bound +to move. Naturally it goes to the words you have in mind, and unless you +purposely check it, the message is bound to come. If it is something I +know and you don't, the board starts off, and as the words form, you +don't stop them nor do I, yet we don't really force them, it's more as +if we thought on the board. This is proved, to my mind, by the fact that +if either party knows the answer, it always comes; if neither knows it, +you can't get it. Usually the message is something that can't be +verified anyway, and often the message is untrue. But people notice and +remember the few times the truth is told, and quickly forget the other +times. In no case are they messages from the dead. It is not Peter's +spirit talking to us at all. It is merely our minds, subconsciously or +not, that impel involuntary muscular action in the slightest degree, and +our eagerness to get a certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> word or phrase, brings it about. +Tradition and habit ascribe the messages to the dead, and the universal +desire to get such communications is responsible for the belief that +they are such. Now, here's proof. Whenever I have asked the Board who +killed Gilbert it has responded with the name of the person whom my +companion thought guilty. I have no idea who is the criminal, neither, I +take it, has Zizi; consequently, as we are both open-minded and waiting +for the answer, we get nothing."</p> + +<p>"Right," and Zizi nodded her head. "People fool themselves into +believing they get information from Ouija. But, if they were honest, +they would have to admit that never has it told a truth that was not +known to at least one person present. Of course, I except coincidences, +which must happen occasionally."</p> + +<p>"But," objected Julie, "then why will it work so much better when Carly +has her hands on?"</p> + +<p>"Just because I'm impassive," Carlotta said, "and sit quietly while the +other one gets the message she wants. Without effort the message desired +comes, merely because nobody stops it."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Julie, "none of the help we get from Ouija means anything +at all?"</p> + +<p>"No, and it isn't help," said Zizi.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>"Labrador Luck"</h3> + +<p>Kit Shelby's play was a wonderful success. Though a motion picture, it +was one of the finest ever produced, and no expense had been spared to +make it the sensation of the season. It was called "Labrador Luck."</p> + +<p>The Crane family attended the opening night, as, indeed, all Shelby's +friends did, and the verdict was unanimous that never had such a +beautiful and finished play been screened. The scenes of ice-bound +Labrador were picturesque and fascinating, while the plot was ingenious +and thrills plentiful. The audience applauded continuously, for so real +was the acting that it seemed as if the performers were actually there.</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane had helped Shelby finance the production, and he realized +at once that he would get his money back with interest.</p> + +<p>"It's a gold mine, boy!" he said to Shelby, as they were all at the +Crane home afterward, "and it must be made into a spoken drama. There's +scope for a great play in that plot."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Marvelous plot," commented Pennington Wise. "All your own, Mr. Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Kit replied, with frank pride; "it did turn out well, didn't it?"</p> + +<p>"And you're going to make a book of it, too, aren't you?" asked Julie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a book, and a serial story and, oh, I'm going to do lots of things +with it!"</p> + +<p>"Grand opera, maybe!" chaffed Julie.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Shelby, seriously. "Slighter plots than that have been +put into grand opera. It may yet come about."</p> + +<p>Without undue conceit Shelby was quite conscious of his great success, +and as he walked home with Carlotta from the Crane house, he begged her +to consent to his repeated proposals of marriage.</p> + +<p>"This thing will make me rich, dear," he said, "and while that sounds +mercenary, it does make me glad to have a fortune to offer you."</p> + +<p>"But I don't love you, Kit," and Carlotta smiled carelessly at him.</p> + +<p>"You will, Carly. You'll have to, 'cause I love you so. Oh, sweetheart, +I love you just desperately— I must have you, my little girl, I must!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Kit, you wouldn't want a wife who didn't care for you as a woman +ought to care for the man she marries. Truly, my heart is still Peter's. +I sometimes think I'll never marry, his memory is so vivid and so dear +to me."</p> + +<p>"Weren't you beginning to care for Blair?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"N-no; not that way. Of course I was fond of Gilbert, and I'm fond of +you, but there's always the thought of Peter between us."</p> + +<p>"But, Carly, there's no one you care more for than for me, is there?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Then say yes, darling. Even though you won't marry me quite yet, let's +be engaged, and truly you'll soon learn to love me. I'll make you!"</p> + +<p>But Carlotta wouldn't consent, and Shelby had to be content with her +promise to think about it.</p> + +<p>"Kit," she said, suddenly, "are those queer detectives going to find out +who killed Gilbert?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose they'll fasten it on Mac. Poor chap, to think of his +being in jail while we're having all this excitement over my play. But I +don't see any other direction for Wise to look. What a funny little +thing that Zizi is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I like her a lot. And she's nobody's fool! Her black eyes take +in everything, whether she remarks on it or not. You should have seen +her watch you to-night."</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"At the Cranes', when you were talking about the play."</p> + +<p>"She's dramatic herself. She ought to be in the Moving Pictures!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she'd be a film queen at once."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Zizi must have had something of the same idea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> in her own mind, for the +next day she went to see Shelby at his office and asked him if he could +give her a chance at film work.</p> + +<p>"But you're a detective," Shelby said, amusedly, "what would Mr. Wise do +without you?"</p> + +<p>"He'd get along all right," Zizi said earnestly. "He's willing I should +have a try at a screen career, if you'll take me on."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure I could use you," Shelby returned, "at least not at +present. If I do another picture I'll try you out in it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are going to do another, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Probably, but not until I've exhausted all the different possibilities +of this one."</p> + +<p>Zizi showed her disappointment at the failure of her plan, but, after +some further talk on general subjects, she went back to the Cranes'.</p> + +<p>"Well, Ziz," Wise said to her, as they discussed the case alone, "we're +not making our usual rapid headway this time. Rather baffling, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Everything seems to point to Thorpe, except that I can't think he had +motive enough. That foolish jealousy of the plans and suspicion of +Blair's stealing his ideas isn't enough to make him commit murder."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he did do it, but I can't agree with you that it wasn't a +big enough motive. You don't know how the artistic temperament resents +anything like that. Nor how it imagines and exaggerates the least hint +of it. I think his motive is the strongest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> point against Thorpe. Who +else had any motive at all?"</p> + +<p>"That's what we have to find out. And we're going to do it. And, I say, +Penny, I want to go to see that medium person the Cranes are so fond +of."</p> + +<p>"Think she'll help you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, though not by her spiritism. But I suspect she's one big fraud, +and I want to be sure."</p> + +<p>"Come along, then. No time like the present. Mr. Crane can arrange a +session for us."</p> + +<p>To Madame Parlato's they went, and soon had the pleasure of seeing that +lady in one of her trances.</p> + +<p>The room was dimly lighted but not in total darkness. After a silence a +faint, low-pitched voice said, "I am here."</p> + +<p>"Are you Peter Crane?" asked Zizi, who chose to be spokesman.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Will you talk to us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a short time only."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then tell us who killed Gilbert Blair."</p> + +<p>"His friend, McClellan Thorpe. Good-by."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute. I own up to being skeptical, is it too much to ask for +some proof of your identity, Peter Crane? Will you, can you give some +material proof?"</p> + +<p>"It is not easy."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for that, but, oh, I do so want to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> convinced. And I +can't, unless I have something tangible to take away with me. Do give me +something."</p> + +<p>There was a silence, and then, apparently from nowhere, a handkerchief +fluttered through the air and fell at Zizi's feet.</p> + +<p>Amazed, the girl picked it up, and though she could not see it +distinctly, she discovered it was a large one, evidently a man's.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the medium sat up straight, came out of her trance, and putting +on the lights, said, eagerly, "Did you get any message?"</p> + +<p>"I should say I did!" Zizi returned, "and a material proof, too. Look!"</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" exclaimed Madame Parlato, as she looked at the white square +of linen. "Initialed, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, P. C.," and Zizi scrutinized the embroidery.</p> + +<p>Pennington Wise expressed a polite admiration for the medium who could +bring about such marvelous results, and the <i>séance</i> over, the two +departed, Zizi carrying the handkerchief in her bag.</p> + +<p>"One of a set of Peter's," Wise said, confidently.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Julie or Mrs. Crane will recognize it. Funny, how she +thought a crude performance like that would convince us!"</p> + +<p>"Mighty well done though."</p> + +<p>"Pooh, in a darkened room one can do anything."</p> + +<p>"Well, where did she get the handkerchief?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dunno, yet. Maybe the Cranes left it there by chance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, that won't do. Guess again."</p> + +<p>"I think I could if I tried. But we'll see what the family say about +it."</p> + +<p>Both Mrs. Crane and Julie declared the handkerchief to be one of Peter's +own, and, moreover, that it was one of a set Carlotta had embroidered +for him just before he went to Labrador. And he had taken the whole +dozen with him, of that they were both sure. It had been Carly's parting +gift, and Peter had been delighted with it.</p> + +<p>"It's too wonderful!" Julie said, amazed. "Now, how do you explain it, +Zizi? We know this to be Peter's own handkerchief. We know he took it to +Labrador with him. How did it get back here? How get into Madame +Parlato's possession? And how appear to you, out of nothingness?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Benjamin Crane, smiling happily, "answer those questions +satisfactorily, or else admit that it is real materialization!"</p> + +<p>Wise looked a little nonplused. Positive though he was of the medium's +trickery, he could not tell Mr. Crane exactly how it had come about. +Materialization was easy enough for a charlatan, but, as had been said, +where could she get the handkerchief to do the trick with?</p> + +<p>Convinced of the Cranes' honesty, of course, Wise couldn't doubt that +Peter had taken all the handkerchiefs with him. His luggage had never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +been sent home, therefore how did the handkerchief get to New York, and +more especially how did it get to Madame Parlato?</p> + +<p>"I can't explain it yet," Wise said, frankly, "but I'll find out all +about it. To you, Mr. Crane, it seems additional proof of your son's +communication through that medium. To me it is additional and very +strong proof of her fraud. Now, we'll leave it at that for the present, +but I promise to explain it to you soon."</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Wise, you'll not be offended, I trust, if I say I don't +believe you can make good your word. But I'm not surprised at your +attitude. Some minds are almost incapable of belief in the occult, and +will accept the most absurd and far-fetched explanations rather than the +simple and plausible one of spirit communication. I can't understand +such a mental attitude, but I've met so many like you that I'm obliged +to recognize its existence."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wise," Mrs. Crane said, "it does seem so strange that a +clear-headed, deep-thinking man like yourself prefers to believe that +Madame Parlato could get Peter's handkerchief and could produce it so +mysteriously for you rather than the rational belief that Peter sent it +himself."</p> + +<p>Zizi looked at the speaker with kindly eyes.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mrs. Crane," she said, "what will hurt me most when we expose that +medium's fraud is the fact of your disappointment."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't worry about that," smiled Benjamin Crane, "you haven't exposed +her yet! Meantime, I shall incorporate this experience of the +handkerchief in my next book."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" cried Zizi, involuntarily. "You'll make yourself a +laughing-stock——"</p> + +<p>She paused, unwilling to hurt his feelings.</p> + +<p>But so assured of his beliefs was Benjamin Crane that he shook his head +and said:</p> + +<p>"No fear of that, child. I'll take all risks. Have you any idea how my +book has been received? It's just gone into another big edition, and my +publishers are clamoring for my second book, which is nearly finished. +But to return to the case of McClellan Thorpe. Did Peter tell you——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Wise said, "according to Madame Parlato, the spirit of your son +said that Thorpe is the criminal, and it was as proof of identity that +Zizi received the handkerchief."</p> + +<p>"Fine," said Crane, nodding his satisfaction, "I think I'll use that +<i>séance</i> for the finale of my book, and get it in press at once."</p> + +<p>"Do, dear," said his wife, "as far as the handkerchief is concerned. But +don't put in the book that Mac killed Gilbert."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, certainly not. In the first place, we're all agreed that though +Peter believes that, it is a mistake on his part; that is, it may be a +mistake. Don't let it influence you too much, Mr. Wise."</p> + +<p>Penny Wise laughed outright. He couldn't help it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, sir," he promised, "I won't!"</p> + +<p>"But have you any other suspect?"</p> + +<p>"I'd rather not answer that question quite yet, Mr. Crane."</p> + +<p>"All right, take your own time. I've confidence you'll do all you can, +but my hopes of your success are dwindling."</p> + +<p>"Don't feel that way, on the contrary, I'm beginning to see at least a +way to look for another suspect."</p> + +<p>"Look hard, then. For I want to get Mac cleared as soon as it can be +brought about."</p> + +<p>"We'll hope to do that. I'm going over to the Studios now, and I've a +notion I'll discover something."</p> + +<p>Accompanied by Zizi, Wise went to the home that Blair and Thorpe had +occupied, and which was now in charge of the police.</p> + +<p>The detective set himself to the task of looking over old letters and +papers in hope of finding out some secret of the dead man's past.</p> + +<p>Zizi flitted about the rooms, looking for nothing in particular, and +everything in general.</p> + +<p>"I've sized up his medicines," she said, coming from Blair's bedroom +into the studio where Wise sat at the desk.</p> + +<p>"His cough syrup hasn't been touched lately. The dried up stickiness of +the cork shows that. And one or two other bottles are in the same +condition. But in the waste basket in his bedroom I found this."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>She held up an empty bottle that was labeled soda mints.</p> + +<p>"There's a new full bottle in the medicine chest," she went on, "and as +this was in the basket, mayn't it be that he took the last ones, +and——"</p> + +<p>"And they were poisoned!"</p> + +<p>"One of them was. See, somebody had put a poisoned one in among the +others."</p> + +<p>"That leads back to Thorpe, who else could do that?"</p> + +<p>"And we don't know that anybody did, only it might have been."</p> + +<p>"Can you smell any prussic acid in the vial?"</p> + +<p>"No," and Zizi sniffed at it, "I seem to think I do, but I daresay it's +my vivid imagination. Do you suppose a chemist could discern any?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not, but we might make a try at it. Pretty slim clue, anyway, +Ziz."</p> + +<p>"I know it, but I have a hunch it's the real thing. You see, Blair was +in the habit of taking these things——"</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Carlotta Harper told me. I've quizzed her a lot about Mr. Blair's +personal habits, and he always carried soda mints in his pocket, and +took one now and then. So, as there was no soda mint bottle found in his +pockets, and this was in the basket, it's a logical deduction that he +finished this bottle that night that he died. And they all think the +poison<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> was given to him through some simple trick, so why not this?"</p> + +<p>"It may be. It very likely is. But where does it get us?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno yet. But, say it was done that way, it needn't have been done +here. Maybe the murderer put a poisoned mint in the bottle when they +were somewhere together."</p> + +<p>"How could he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, lots of ways. Say Blair had his coat off, playing golf or +billiards, or——"</p> + +<p>"He'd carry such a bottle in his waistcoat pocket, I think."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's all surmise. The thing to do is to begin from the other end. +Who had a motive?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm trying to trace. Nothing doing as yet. Hello, here's +that old letter from Joshua, the guide. Look at it! It is in a small, +cramped hand, and you know the one purporting to be from him later was +in a big, sprawly hand. Somebody faked that letter!"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's something to work on, then."</p> + +<p>"But maybe Thorpe did it."</p> + +<p>"Not he. Why should he? He had nothing to do with that Labrador trip."</p> + +<p>"What was the letter about, the other Joshua letter?"</p> + +<p>"Advising him not to try to bring Peter Crane's body down to New York, +or to postpone the matter, or something like that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Queer business, that. Why should anybody want to fake a letter like +that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe anybody did. More likely some one else wrote for the +guide. They're an ignorant lot, and writing is an unwelcome task to +them."</p> + +<p>They were still looking at the guide's letter when Shelby came in.</p> + +<p>"I heard you were here," he said, "and thought it would be a good time +to come around. I want to see if there's anything in Blair's papers that +would help to turn suspicion away from Mac Thorpe. I don't believe that +man did it, and I wish we could free him."</p> + +<p>"That's what we're after," and Wise made room for Shelby to sit beside +him at Blair's desk.</p> + +<p>But though they made systematic search of all letters they found none +other than friendly. There were some from his mother and sister, +pathetic ones, telling of their ill health, for both were invalids.</p> + +<p>They had not come East on learning of Blair's death, for they could not +well stand the trip, and, too, there was no real reason for their +coming. After the police investigation was over Blair's effects were to +be sent to them, but for the present everything remained as it was found +at his death.</p> + +<p>"Let me help you, if I can," Shelby went on to Wise. "You know Blair and +I were chums. Poor Gilbert, and Peter Boots, too, both gone, and both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +by such tragic means. I don't know which death was the worse."</p> + +<p>Zizi showed him the small bottle she had found, and asked his opinion of +her theory about it.</p> + +<p>"What an ingenious notion," Shelby exclaimed; "yes, it might be the +truth, of course, but a dozen other ways might have been used either."</p> + +<p>"Such as what?" asked Wise, "it's always a help to talk these things +over."</p> + +<p>"Well, granting that some one administered poison to Blair, secretly, +mightn't he have put it in anything that Blair was about to eat or +drink?"</p> + +<p>"Not this poison," objected Wise. "It acts too quickly. Whatever plan +was adopted, it was some scheme by which Blair would take the poison +unknowingly, but naturally. As Zizi says, if it had been put in some one +of his bottles of medicine, he must take it, sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"Yes; well, then say it was put in a cigarette, no that's foolish; why, +hang it all, Wise, don't you see there's no plausible theory except that +some one put it in a drink Blair took just before going to bed, or even +after he was in bed."</p> + +<p>"Where's the glass, then?"</p> + +<p>"That's just the point. What's the answer, except that Thorpe washed it +and put it away? Of course, Blair would take a drink Thorpe offered +him."</p> + +<p>"Also, he might have taken a soda mint just as he went to bed or after," +said Zizi.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed Shelby, thoughtfully. "He might have done so, but could +one introduce poison into one of those things? They're quite hard, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it could be done," Wise declared. "I've heard of such a thing +before. The little pellet could be soaked in the poison——"</p> + +<p>"That would make it taste, and he wouldn't swallow it," Shelby said.</p> + +<p>"True. Well, I think, with a hypodermic needle, the poison could be got +into the mint."</p> + +<p>"Maybe, but I doubt it. However, I don't know much about such things. +You're doubtless experienced."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've had a lot of poison cases. And, if we give up all thought of +the soda mint, it does come back to a drink of some sort mixed by +Thorpe."</p> + +<p>"Or Blair might have mixed his own drink, and Thorpe added the poison, +unnoticed."</p> + +<p>"But I want to get away from Thorpe," Zizi said, her eyes anxious and +worried.</p> + +<p>"So do we all," returned Shelby gravely. "But where can we look?"</p> + +<p>"Where, indeed?" echoed Penny Wise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>A Prophecy Fulfilled</h3> + +<p>Among the passengers disembarking from a steamer at a Brooklyn pier was +a tall, gaunt man, who walked with a slight limp.</p> + +<p>He was alone, and though he nodded pleasantly to one or two of his +fellow passengers, he walked by himself, and all details of landing +being over, he took a taxicab to a hotel restaurant, glad to eat a +luncheon more to his taste than the ship's fare had been.</p> + +<p>He bought several New York papers, and soon became so absorbed in their +contents that his carefully selected food might have been dust and ashes +for all he knew.</p> + +<p>Staring at an advertisement, he called a waiter.</p> + +<p>"Send out and get me that book," he said, "as quick as you can."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," returned the man, "it's right here, sir, on the news-stand. +Get it in a minute, sir."</p> + +<p>And in about a minute Peter Boots sat, almost unable to believe his own +eyes, as he scanned the chapter headings of his father's book, detailing +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> death and the subsequent experiences of him who sat and stared at +the pages.</p> + +<p>He looked at the frontispiece, a portrait of himself, but bearing little +resemblance to his present appearance. For, where the pictured face +showed a firm, well-molded chin, the living man wore a brown beard, +trimmed Vandyke fashion, and where the expression on the portrait showed +a merry, carefree smile, the real face was graven with deep lines that +told of severe experiences of some sort.</p> + +<p>But the real face grinned a little at the picture, and broke into a +wider smile at some sentences read at random as the pages were hastily +turned, and then as further developments appeared, the blue eyes showed +a look of puzzled wonder, quickly followed by horror and despair.</p> + +<p>Peter closed the book and laid it aside, and finished his luncheon in a +daze.</p> + +<p>One thing stood forth in his mind. He must take time to think—think +deeply, carefully, before he did anything. He must get away by himself +and meet this strange, new emergency that had come to him.</p> + +<p>What to do, how to conduct himself, these were questions of gravest +import, and not to be lightly settled.</p> + +<p>He thought quickly, and concluded that for a secure hiding-place a man +could do no better than choose a big city hotel.</p> + +<p>Finishing his meal he went to the desk and asked for a room, registering +as John Harrison, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> was the name by which he had been known on the +ship that had brought him to port.</p> + +<p>Once behind the locked door of his room he threw himself into an +armchair and devoured the book he had bought.</p> + +<p>Rapidly he flew through it; then went over it again, more slowly, until +Peter Boots was familiar with every chapter of the book that his father +had written in his memory.</p> + +<p>Memory! And he wasn't dead!</p> + +<p>The book, he saw, had gone through a large number of editions, +wherefore, many people had read the tale of his tragic fate in the +Labrador wild, and of his recrudescence and communications with his +parents, and now, here he was reading it himself.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to realize how strange it must seem to read not only +one's own death notices but the accounts of one's return to earth in +spirit form, and to be informed of the astonishing things one said and +did through the kind offices of a professional medium!</p> + +<p>A medium! Madame Parlato! And she "got in touch" with him! She succeeded +in getting messages from him—and materializations!</p> + +<p>Peter's chicory blue eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read of +the "materialization" of his tobacco pouch.</p> + +<p>"Jolly glad I know where it is," he thought; "I've missed the thing, but +how did it waft itself to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> professional medium! Bah! the stuff makes +me sick!</p> + +<p>"But Dad wrote it! Dad—my father! And mother's in the game! Got to read +the book all over again."</p> + +<p>And again he delved into the volume, seeming unable to take in the +appalling fact of what had been done.</p> + +<p>"They believe it!" he said at last, reaching the final page for the +third time; "they believe it from the bottom of their blessed souls!</p> + +<p>"Who is that medium person? Where'd she get the dope to fool the old +folks? Let me at her! I'll give her what for! Messages to mother from +her departed son! 'Do not grieve for me,' 'I am happy over here,' Oh, +for the love o' Mike! what <i>am</i> I going to do first?"</p> + +<p>Followed a long time of thought. At first, chaotic, wondering, +uncertain, then focussing and crystallizing into two definite ideas.</p> + +<p>One, the astonishing but undeniable fact of his father's belief and +sincerity, the other, what would happen if that belief and sincerity +were suddenly stultified.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he summed up, "when I appear on the scene that medium will +get the jolt of her sweet young life— I assume she's young still, and +Dad——</p> + +<p>"H'm, where will he get off?"</p> + +<p>That gave him pause. For Benjamin Crane to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> have written such a book as +this, for it to have achieved such a phenomenal success and popularity, +for it to have been the means, as it doubtless was, of converting +thousands to a belief in Spiritism, then, for the whole thing to be +overturned by the reappearance in the flesh of the man supposed dead, +would mean a cataclysm unparalleled in literary history.</p> + +<p>And his father? The dear old man, happy in his communications from his +dead son, how would he be pleased to learn that they were not from his +dead son at all, but the faked drivel of a fraudulent medium?</p> + +<p>It was a moil, indeed.</p> + +<p>Peter Crane had come home incognito, because he doubted the wisdom of a +sudden shock to his parents. Unable to send or get news, and making his +voyage home at the first possible opportunity, he had intended to learn +how matters stood before making his appearance.</p> + +<p>He had intended telephoning Blair and Shelby, and if they said all was +well at home he would go there at once. But if there had been illness or +death he would use care and tact in making his presence known.</p> + +<p>For Peter Boots had had no word of, or from his people for half a +year—all the long Labrador winter he had lived in ignorance of their +welfare and had suffered to the limit, both mentally and physically.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he had thought they would probably assume his death—as, by reason +of this astonishing book he now knew they had done—and, what was he to +do about it?</p> + +<p>Impulse would have sent him flying home—home to his mother, Dad and +Julie, and—and dear little Carly.</p> + +<p>But—when he thought of the possibility of his reappearance being the +means of making his father's name a by-word of ridicule, of heaping on +the old man's fame obloquy and derision, of shocking his mother, perhaps +fatally, or at least into a nervous prostration, he was unable to shape +a course.</p> + +<p>Could he tell Carly first? He glanced at a telephone book at his elbow.</p> + +<p>No, that would never do. To hear his voice on the telephone would throw +her into a convulsion. He didn't believe she stood for that spirit +foolishness, but if, by any chance, she had been won over, his voice +would surely give her some sort of a shock.</p> + +<p>The boys, then. Yes, that was the only thing. He must see them, but he +must telephone first and learn their whereabouts.</p> + +<p>He could, he concluded, call in a disguised voice, and get a line on +things anyhow.</p> + +<p>So, still in a haze of doubt and uncertainty, he looked up the number +and called Shelby.</p> + +<p>As he rather expected, Shelby was not at his home, but the person who +answered could give no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> directions save to say that Mr. Shelby would +probably be home by six o'clock, and would he leave a message?</p> + +<p>"No," returned Peter shortly, and hung up.</p> + +<p>Getting next the number of the Leonardo Studios, he asked for Gilbert +Blair.</p> + +<p>"W-what—who?" came a stammering response.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Blair—Mr. Gilbert Blair," repeated Peter.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, he's dead—Mr. Blair's dead."</p> + +<p>"No! When did he die?"</p> + +<p>"Coupla months ago. Murdered."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Yep, murdered."</p> + +<p>Peter hung up the receiver from sheer inability to do anything else.</p> + +<p>Of course it couldn't be true. Blair couldn't have been murdered, and he +must have misunderstood that last word. But his arm seemed paralyzed +when he tried again to take hold of the telephone.</p> + +<p>He sank back in his chair and tried to think.</p> + +<p>His subconscious mind told him that he had not misunderstood—that +Gilbert was murdered. He knew he had heard the word correctly, and +people do not make such statements unless they are true.</p> + +<p>His thoughts gradually untangled themselves and he began to grapple with +the most important problems.</p> + +<p>It was clear that he must learn what had happened in his absence. He +wanted to get hold of Shelby and ask about Blair. He wanted to go right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +over to Blair's place—but if—if <i>it</i> had occurred two months ago there +was small use going there now.</p> + +<p>Also, he must preserve his incognito for the present, at least. His +return would be blazoned in the papers as soon as it was known, and the +effect on his father's reputation would be most disastrous.</p> + +<p>He must learn more facts—the facts he had already discovered were so +amazing, what else might not be in store for him?</p> + +<p>Concentrating on the subject of Blair's death he concluded his best +course would be to get a file of newspapers covering the past two months +and read about it.</p> + +<p>In a big newspaper office he accomplished this, and spent the rest of +the afternoon reading up the case.</p> + +<p>Of late the subject was not a principal one in the papers.</p> + +<p>McClellan Thorpe was in prison, awaiting his trial, and the police, +while still on the job, were not over aggressive.</p> + +<p>Pennington Wise was not mentioned, so Peter had no means of knowing that +that astute person was connected with the matter.</p> + +<p>But the news of Thorpe's arrest struck Peter a new blow. While not as +chummy with Thorpe as with Shelby and Blair, Peter had always liked him +and found it difficult to believe him guilty of Blair's death.</p> + +<p>Back to his hotel went the man registered as John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> Harrison, and, going +to the restaurant for dinner, he ate and enjoyed a hearty meal.</p> + +<p>After all, strange and weird as was the news he had heard, his parents +were alive and well—and, strangest of all, they were not grieving at +his death.</p> + +<p>He was relieved at this, and yet, he was, in an inexplicable way, +disappointed. It <i>is</i> a blow in the face to learn that your loved ones +are quite reconciled to your death because, forsooth, they get fool +messages from you through the services of a fool medium!</p> + +<p>Peter's ire rose, and he was all for going to his father's house at +once, and then, back came the thought, how could he put that dear old +man to the blush for having written that preposterous book?</p> + +<p>From the papers, too, Peter had learned of the furor the book had made, +of the great notoriety and popularity that had come to Benjamin Crane +from its publication, of the enormous sales it had had, and was still +having, and of the satisfaction and happiness the whole thing had +brought to both Mr. and Mrs. Crane.</p> + +<p>So, stifling his longing to go home and to see his people, Peter decided +to sleep over it before taking any definite steps.</p> + +<p>He had small fear of recognition. Nobody in New York believed him alive, +or had any thought of looking for him. His present appearance was so +different from the portrait in the book that, after he had changed his +looks still further by a different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> brushing of his hair, he felt there +was no trace of likeness left save perhaps his blue eyes. And only one +who knew him well would notice his eyes, and he had no expectation of +running up against one who knew him well.</p> + +<p>So, after dinner, he sat for a time in the hotel lobby, not wishing to +mingle with his fellow men, yet not wishing to seem peculiar by reason +of his evading notice.</p> + +<p>Worn with the succession of shocks that had come to him, and weary of +meeting the big problems and situations, he thought of diversion.</p> + +<p>"Any good plays on?" he asked the news-stand girl, and his winning smile +brought a chatty response.</p> + +<p>"Plays—yes. Nothing corking, though. But say, have you seen the big +movie?"</p> + +<p>"No; what is it?"</p> + +<p>"'Labrador Luck,' oh, say, it's a peach! Go to it!"</p> + +<p>"Where?" and Peter stopped himself just in time from exclaiming, +"Labrador anything would interest me!"</p> + +<p>"Over in N'York. Hop into the sub and you're there."</p> + +<p>Peter hopped into the sub and shortly he was there.</p> + +<p>"Labrador Luck," he read from the big posters. "Monster production of +the Tophole Producing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> Company. Thrilling scenes, thrilling plot, +thrilling drama."</p> + +<p>There was more detail as to the names of the Film Queen who was starred, +and the Film King who supported her, but without stopping to read them +Peter bought a ticket and went in.</p> + +<p>The picture was under way, and as he sank into his seat he saw on the +screen the familiar scenes of the Labrador wild.</p> + +<p>Not quite true to nature were they, this Peter recognized at once, but +he knew they were taken in a studio, not in Labrador itself, and he had +only admiration for the cleverness with which they were done.</p> + +<p>With a little sigh of pleasure he gave himself up to a positive +enjoyment of the landscape, and, as the story went on, he was conscious +of a vaguely familiar strain running through it.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a scene was flashed on, and an episode occurred which was one +of his own invention.</p> + +<p>"Why," he smiled, "that's my very idea! Now how'd they get that? Oh, I +know, of course, such things often occur to various minds without +collusion, but it's sort of queer. If he follows up that lead, it will +be awful queer!"</p> + +<p>The lead was followed up, and, a bit bewildered, Peter sat gazing while +the whole story was unrolled.</p> + +<p>Greatly changed it was, greatly elaborated; the main plot side-tracked +by a counter-plot; the number<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> of characters multiplied by a score; yet, +the mystery interest, the suspense element, the very backbone of the +piece was the plot he and Blair had worked out while up in the Labrador +wild.</p> + +<p>"Labrador Luck!" he mused. "Fine name for it, too. The 'Luck' being that +old heirloom—just as I planned it. Wonder how it all came about?"</p> + +<p>Then he realized how long he'd been away from Blair. How Blair, +doubtless, supposed him dead, and, most naturally, the boy had gone on +with the story, and here was the splendid result.</p> + +<p>He sat through the thing enthralled, and when the finale came, so +exactly as he had planned that smashing great scene, he could have +yelled his applause. But he didn't, he simply sat still in glad +anticipation of seeing it all over again.</p> + +<p>But he was disappointed. It was not a continuous performance—the long +play was a whole evening's entertainment, and opening and closing hours +were like those of a regular theater.</p> + +<p>So Peter determined to come the next night to see it again, and to see +the first part that he had missed.</p> + +<p>"Great old play," he thought, delightedly. "Wonder if Blair put it on +before he died, or if it's posthumous."</p> + +<p>He picked up a stray program as he left the place—he had had none +before—and put it in his pocket to look over at home.</p> + +<p>"At least, I'm not suffering from lack of interests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> or diversion," he +said, "but, by Jingo, I've just thought of it! What about money!</p> + +<p>"I've enough to hang out at that hotel about a week and that's all. I'll +have to tell Dad I'm here, or get a job or rob a bank. And what can I do +to turn an honest penny? And I can't go to work under an assumed name! +Oh, hang it all, I've got to come to life! Much as I love Dad and much +as I want to save him from all ridicule and disaster about that +abominable book, I've simply got to live my own life!</p> + +<p>"But I won't decide till my cash gets lower than it is now. I'll go a +bit further in my investigations and then we'll see about it."</p> + +<p>Comfortably seated in his room he drew out the program to look over.</p> + +<p>To his unbounded amazement he learned from the title page that the +author of the play and also the producer, or, at least, the president of +the producing company was—Christopher Shelby!</p> + +<p>"Kit! Good old top!" he cried aloud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I must see him," he thought, "I just must see him! So Kit wrote the +thing—well, I suppose he and Blair did it together— I recognize Kit's +hand more especially in the producing element—and then, old Gilbert, +bless him, was killed, and Kit went ahead alone— I can't think Mac +Thorpe did for Gil—oh, I must see <i>somebody</i> or I'll go crazy!"</p> + +<p>And because he was afraid to trust himself to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> keep away from the +telephone any longer, Peter Boots went to bed.</p> + +<p>The night brought counsel.</p> + +<p>Clarifying his thoughts, Peter tried first to see where his duty lay.</p> + +<p>To his parents, first of all, he decided, for he was a devoted son, and +all his life he had loved and revered both father and mother more than +most boys do. Julie, too, but, so far he had no reason to think she had +any special claim on him.</p> + +<p>Well, then, what did his duty to his parents dictate?</p> + +<p>Common sense said that they would far rather have their son with them +alive than to rest secure in the success of the book his father had +written.</p> + +<p>But the book itself was, to his mind, quite outside the pale of common +sense, and could not be judged by any such standards.</p> + +<p>Certain pages, special paragraphs in that book, stood out in his mind, +and he knew that never had there been such a fiasco as would ensue if +the long lost and deeply mourned hero of it should return! His return in +the spirit was so gloatingly related, so triumphantly averred, that his +return in the flesh would be a terrific anti-climax.</p> + +<p>He remembered the gypsy's prophecy—how it had come true!</p> + +<p>But the return, foretold by the second gypsy, was now verified in the +flesh and put to naught all the fake returns narrated in the book.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>Much stress was laid, in his father's story, on the spiritual return +being what the gypsy meant. Now, Peter had proved that that prophecy +meant, if it meant anything at all, his return in the flesh.</p> + +<p>Anyway, here he was, very much alive, and very uncertain what to do with +his live self.</p> + +<p>Should he go away, out West, or to some distant place and start life +anew, under an assumed name, and leave his father to his delusion? Was +that his duty?</p> + +<p>He was not necessary to his parents, either as a help to their support +or as a comfort to their hearts.</p> + +<p>He did not do them the injustice to think that they had never mourned +for him, or that they had not missed him in the home. All this was fully +and beautifully set forth in the book.</p> + +<p>But they had been compensated by the comfort and enjoyment afforded them +by their <i>séances</i>, and by the messages they continually received from +him!</p> + +<p>And he could see no way, try as he would, that he could inform them of +his return without causing them dismay and distress.</p> + +<p>For if they knew him to be alive he must take again his old place in the +home—and then what would his father be?</p> + +<p>A laughing-stock, a crushed and crestfallen victim of the most +despicable sort of fraud!</p> + +<p>It would never do. He couldn't bring positive trouble into his father's +life on the off chance of removing a sorrow, which, though real, was +softened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> and solaced by the very fraud that he would expose.</p> + +<p>No; the more he thought the more he saw his duty was to eliminate +himself for all time from his home and friends.</p> + +<p>And Carly?</p> + +<p>He tried not to think about her, for his duty must be his paramount +consideration. He would wait a day or so, and then disappear again, and +forever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>An Interview</h3> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Douglas, what can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane spoke cordially, and smiled genially at the young man who +had called on him in his home.</p> + +<p>"You can turn me down, sir, if you like, or, if you'll be so kind, you +can give me a few details of these strange experiences of yours in +occult matters."</p> + +<p>"Are you a reporter?"</p> + +<p>"I am, but also I want to be something more than that. And in this case +I want to write up these things for a special article, and a personal +interview would help a lot."</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy, you impress me pleasantly, and, as I like nothing better +than to talk on my favorite subject, I'll give you a fifteen-minute +chat. More than that I cannot spare time for."</p> + +<p>"Then let's confine our talk to the phase that interests me most. I can +get your beliefs and experiences from your book, you know. And your +personality," Douglas gave him a humorously appraising glance, "I am +gathering as we go along. First,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> will you tell me your attitude, mental +and spiritual, regarding the loss of your son? I mean, though I fear I +put it crudely, are you entirely reconciled to his death because of the +comfort you receive from his—er—communications and all that?"</p> + +<p>"A difficult question to answer," Crane paused a moment, "but I think I +may say yes. I bow to the will of a Higher Power in the death of my son, +and I am grateful to that same Higher Power for the comfort that is mine +in the communion I have with my boy."</p> + +<p>"Then you do not really grieve over his loss?"</p> + +<p>"Not now—no. At first, of course, both his mother and I were crushed, +but when he came to us, in the spirit, we took heart, and now we are +perfectly satisfied—more than satisfied to accept our life conditions +just as they are."</p> + +<p>"You have frequent communication with the spirit of your departed son?"</p> + +<p>"Almost daily."</p> + +<p>"With the same medium always?"</p> + +<p>"Nowadays, yes. I tried various ones, but I rely on Madame Parlato. She +has had the greatest success, and now can readily get into communication +with my son at almost any time."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Mr. Crane, if I am indiscreet, but have you never felt that +she might be—not entirely—honest?"</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane smiled benignly. "Don't hesitate to put your doubt into +words. I am quite ready<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> to answer that question. I have no doubts of +any sort concerning the medium's honesty, sincerity and genuineness. I +have no doubt that the communications she obtains are really from my son +Peter. That his spirit speaks to me through her. This has been proved to +me in many ways, but a far greater proof is the conviction in my soul of +the reality of it all. My wife believes as implicitly as I do, and no +amount of scoffing from outsiders can in any way shake our faith."</p> + +<p>"You have had material proofs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; here is a letter from my son himself. Here is a tobacco pouch that +I know was his. Here is his handkerchief."</p> + +<p>With a calm pride Benjamin Crane took these articles from a table drawer +and showed them.</p> + +<p>Douglas was deeply impressed, examined the articles and watched Crane as +he returned them to the drawer.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Crane, "it is not only difficult but impossible to +account for those things except by supernatural explanation, so why +refuse the logical truth?"</p> + +<p>"That's so. And, I understand now, why you are so happy in your beliefs, +for it all gives your life a continual and absorbing interest. You are +writing another book, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it contains the detailed account of my <i>séances</i>, and will, I +trust, prove an additional source<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> of information and education on the +great subject of survival."</p> + +<p>"And your daughter? Does she, too, subscribe to all your theories?"</p> + +<p>"Almost entirely. She is not so absorbed in the subject as Mrs. Crane +and myself, but she has become persuaded of many truths."</p> + +<p>"And now, my time is nearly up, may I ask you a word regarding the Blair +case. Do you think McClellan Thorpe is the guilty man?"</p> + +<p>"No! a thousand times no! I am trying by every means in my power to +prove that he isn't. I hope to succeed, too. But we mustn't go into that +subject, as I have an important appointment to keep. Come to see me +again, Mr. Douglas, if you like. I'm not unaccustomed to such calls, and +I'll be glad to see you again. By appointment, though, for I'm a busy +man."</p> + +<p>Tom Douglas went back, over to Brooklyn, and, going to a hotel, asked +for one John Harrison.</p> + +<p>In a short time Peter Boots was eagerly listening to the report of the +messenger he had sent to his father.</p> + +<p>"I learned a lot, Mr. Harrison," the visitor began. "I think I can give +you quite a bit of the local color you need for your novel."</p> + +<p>"Not so much local color as mental attitude," Peter returned. "You see, +in writing a psychological novel the author has to be careful of shades +of feeling in his delineation of the characters. And as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> this Mr. Crane +seemed to be just the type I want to study, I'm glad to have you tell me +all the things he said, as nearly as you can recollect his own +language."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. And I was mighty interested on my own account, too."</p> + +<p>"He was willing you should write an article about him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, and asked me to come again."</p> + +<p>"Go on, tell me all he said—how he looked and acted and everything that +happened."</p> + +<p>And so the young reporter and free-lance writer told Peter Boots all +about his father, under the impression that he was talking to one who +had never seen Benjamin Crane.</p> + +<p>"He's a wonderful man, Mr. Harrison," the other said, enthusiastically. +"He must be fifty-five at least, maybe more, but he's so alert and +quick-witted, and so full of his subject, that he seems a much younger +man."</p> + +<p>"And he seems happy?"</p> + +<p>"Happy! I should say so! Perfectly reconciled to his son's death, +because of these communications he gets from him! I say, Mr. Harrison, I +can't stand for it! It gets me to see how that man is gulled, and he +such a clear-headed, sane sort! Had proofs, too—all sorts of things. Do +you believe it, Mr. Harrison? Do you believe that the spirit of Mr. +Crane's dead son talks to him through a medium?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do not," said Peter Crane, endeavoring not to speak too emphatically. +"I didn't want you to get that interview in the interests of Spiritism +at all, but to tell me of the condition, mentally and physically, of Mr. +Crane."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. Well, the old guy is O.K. physically, fit as a fiddle. And +sound mentally, you bet, except that he's nutty on the supernatural. +Why, he showed me the tobacco pouch—you know he tells about that in his +book——"</p> + +<p>Peter nodded.</p> + +<p>"Showed me, too, a handkerchief of his dead son's——"</p> + +<p>"That's not so remarkable."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is; 'cause it's one of a set that the chap took away with him, +embroidered by his best girl, I believe."</p> + +<p>Peter started. One of those handkerchiefs Carly gave him! Where in the +world could that fool medium have got hold of that?</p> + +<p>"Also a note from son, in his own handwriting," Douglas went on.</p> + +<p>"Did you see it?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. Commonplace looking note, advising his sister to drop acquaintance +with Thorpe—he's the man they arrested in the Blair case."</p> + +<p>"Where did the note come from?"</p> + +<p>"Materialized—out of thin air."</p> + +<p>"At a <i>séance</i>?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; the brother kindly left it on sister's bureau, I believe."</p> + +<p>Peter Crane was bewildered indeed. What sort of performances were going +on, anyhow. And who was at the bottom of all this?</p> + +<p>Clearly, he must look into things a little more before he did his final +disappearance!</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Douglas, you've helped me a whole lot. Now, as I say, I want +mental impressions. Tell me everything you can think of about the +atmosphere of the whole house, the—did you see Mrs. Crane?"</p> + +<p>"No, only the old man. There seemed to be quite a lot of people about, +coming and going. We had our interview in Mr. Crane's study, or +library——"</p> + +<p>"I know, the small room at the back of the house——"</p> + +<p>"Been there?" Douglas looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"Read of it in the book," said Peter, quietly, annoyed at himself for +the slip.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well, there's a table in the middle of the room, and in the drawer +of that table Mr. Crane keeps all the things' materialized by the +medium. I think he expects to get a big collection."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" groaned Peter, "<i>what</i> a mess!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it?" Douglas assumed that the whole subject of Spiritism was +thus referred to.</p> + +<p>"Suppose anything happened to shake Mr. Crane's faith?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think anything <i>could</i> do that. He's absolutely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> gullible. He'd +swallow anything. I say, how <i>do</i> you explain it? Why is it that +big-brained, well-balanced men fall for this rot?"</p> + +<p>"They can't be really well-balanced,—and then, too, it's largely the +eagerness to believe, the desire for the comfort it brings them that +makes them think they do believe. And a clever medium can do much."</p> + +<p>"Sure. But those materializations! Where'd she get the goods?"</p> + +<p>"Give it up. Tell me more about Mr. Crane."</p> + +<p>So Douglas patiently recounted and repeated all the words of Peter's +father and told of his appearance and manner, under the impression that +he was helping an author with data for a psychological story.</p> + +<p>Peter had found Douglas by merely making inquiry for a bright young +reporter, and had made an agreement, satisfactory to both, for him to +try to get the interview with Benjamin Crane, and they would both profit +by it.</p> + +<p>He was delighted that Crane had asked the young man to call again, and +when they parted it was with the understanding that there should be +another interview arranged.</p> + +<p>Peter Boots had much food for thought.</p> + +<p>He sat thinking for hours after the food had been given to him.</p> + +<p>What was the explanation? What <i>could</i> be the explanation?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>How could communications from a dead man be received when the man was +not dead?</p> + +<p>How he longed to go home, disclose himself, and run to earth that +fearful fraud! How gladly he would do so, except that it would ruin his +father's reputation. What would the public think of a man who had been +so taken in by fraud, and had blazoned it to the world.</p> + +<p>To be sure it was no reflection on Benjamin Crane's sincerity, yet he +would be the butt of derision for the whole country, and his discredited +head would be bowed for the rest of his life.</p> + +<p>Peter couldn't bring himself to do that, especially now that he had +discovered that his loss was not a source of hopeless grief to his +parents.</p> + +<p>"I'm not wanted in this world," he told himself, sadly, "I'm a +superfluous man. I've got to dispose of myself somehow," and he gave a +very realizing sigh.</p> + +<p>And the thought of Carly,—that tried to obtrude itself, he put +resolutely from him.</p> + +<p>"She's probably forgotten me," he assured himself, "and anyway I must do +the right thing by Mother and Dad first. If I decide that I can't +demolish their air castle, so carefully built up, I must light +out,—that's all."</p> + +<p>Trying hard to be cheerful, but feeling very blue and desolate he ate a +solitary dinner and went again to the theater to see "Labrador Luck."</p> + +<p>Douglas' graphic description of his home and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> father had given him a +great longing to go there, to see the dear old place, the dear old +man,—and his mother, and Julie.</p> + +<p>He felt he <i>must</i> go. Then, he knew he couldn't go, without breaking his +father's heart and life.</p> + +<p>"I broke his heart when I <i>didn't</i> go home," he thought whimsically, +"now, I mustn't break it again by going home!"</p> + +<p>He sat through the moving picture performance again, and marveled anew +at the beauty of the production. It was far above the rank and file of +moving pictures, it was adjudged by all critics the very greatest +production ever put upon the screen.</p> + +<p>Shelby's name had become famous, his work was applauded everywhere, and +Peter yearned to see him and renew their friendship.</p> + +<p>But he knew he mustn't think of those things. First of all he had to +decide whether or not he was to come back to life, and if not,—and he +had a conviction that that would be his decision,—he must not dally +with tempting thoughts and hopes of any sort.</p> + +<p>But it was hard! Blair dead, Shelby famous, and he, Peter, unable to +talk things over with any relative, chum or friend.</p> + +<p>He must talk to somebody, and on his way out of the theater he spoke to +the box office man.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful show," he said, smiling at him. "Who's this Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"He's the big push of to-day," was the enthusiastic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> reply. "He's a +marvel of efficiency and generalship. And a big author, too."</p> + +<p>"He wrote the play as well as produced it, I see."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, he can do anything."</p> + +<p>"Married man?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I've heard he's engaged to a girl,—a Miss Harper, I believe."</p> + +<p>Peter choked. The last straw! But he might have known,—he, himself, +supposed dead, Blair dead, what more natural than that Carly should turn +to old Kit?</p> + +<p>With a mere nod to the man who had unwittingly dealt him this final +blow, Peter walked out into the night.</p> + +<p>And he walked and walked. Up Broadway to the Circle, on up and into +Riverside Drive, and along the Hudson as far as he could go.</p> + +<p>Thinking deeply, planning desperately, only to be confronted with the +awful picture of his father's consternation at the shattering of his +beliefs and the collapse of his celebrity.</p> + +<p>At times he would tell himself he was absurdly apprehensive, that any +parents would rather have their lost son restored than to have the +applause and notoriety of public fame. And, then, he would realize that +while that might be generally true, yet this was a peculiar case. His +father was a proud, sensitive nature. Perhaps—Peter shuddered,—perhaps +he wouldn't love a son who by his return made him the most laughed at +man in the whole world!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>Peter longed to go to some one for advice. Shelby, now,—his big +efficient mind would know at once what was best to do.</p> + +<p>But he couldn't disclose himself to Kit and not to any one else. Kit +couldn't keep that a secret, even if he wanted to do so.</p> + +<p>And— Kit was engaged to Carly! He never wanted to see either of them +again!</p> + +<p>Poor, lonely, troubled Peter. Only one plain, sure truth abided. He +<i>must</i> do his duty, and he felt pretty sure he knew what that duty was. +It was to stay out of the life he had lost.</p> + +<p>There was no other possible course.</p> + +<p>He turned and retraced his steps southward, and finally went across +town, drawn as by a magnet to his own home.</p> + +<p>Home! What a mockery the word was!</p> + +<p>It was two o'clock in the morning now; he had been walking or sitting on +a Drive bench for hours.</p> + +<p>He was not conscious of fatigue, he only wanted to see his old home and +then go away forever. He didn't plan his future. He was sure he could +make a living easily enough, he felt he could build up a new life for +himself over a new name. But oh, how he longed for the old life!</p> + +<p>He stood in front of the house and stared at it.</p> + +<p>He walked round and round the block it was on, pausing each time he +passed the front door, and walking on, if there chanced to be a +passer-by.</p> + +<p>At last, he concluded to give up the painful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> pleasure of gazing at the +closed windows and go back to Brooklyn.</p> + +<p>His gaze traveled over the windows at the various rooms,—how well he +knew what they all were,—and at last he found himself looking at the +front door. How often he had let himself in with his latchkey.</p> + +<p>Involuntarily his hand went to his pocket, where that latchkey even now +was,—and hardly knowing what he was doing, he had the key in his hand +and was mounting the steps of his old home.</p> + +<p>Still as one in a daze, and with no intention of making his presence +known, but with an uncontrollable desire to see for the last time those +dear rooms, he silently fitted the key into place.</p> + +<p>Noiselessly he turned it and pushed the door open.</p> + +<p>The house was still, there were no lights on, save a low glimmer in the +front hall.</p> + +<p>He remembered that had always been left on.</p> + +<p>But the street lights faintly illumined the living-room, and he went in. +With a wave of desperate homesickness he threw himself on the big +davenport and buried his face into a pile of cushions.</p> + +<p>He couldn't go away,—he <i>couldn't</i>.</p> + +<p>But—he must!</p> + +<p>And so, he forced himself to put aside his emotion, he bravely fought +down his nostalgia, and promising himself one look into his father's +study he vowed to go directly after.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>He stepped into the little room where Douglas had been received. He +couldn't resist the temptation to look about it, and, cautiously he +snapped on the desk light.</p> + +<p>There was the table with the drawer in it.</p> + +<p>Carefully, Peter opened the drawer and saw for himself the tobacco +pouch, the handkerchief, and the letter, signed "Peter."</p> + +<p>He stared at it, amazed at the similarity to his own penmanship.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to stay, if only to ferret out the mystery of this rascally +fake!" he thought "But—oh, hang it! this rascally fake is the very +breath of life to Dad and Mother. No, Peter Boots, it can't be done! +You're out of it all and out of it all you must stay. Clear out of here +now, before you get in any deeper."</p> + +<p>He fingered the old tobacco pouch.</p> + +<p>"Heavens and earth!" he exclaimed to himself, as a sudden thought struck +him. "That's so!"</p> + +<p>Again he took up the letter, looking closely at the formation of the +words, studying the tenor of the message, and then, with a sigh, laid +all back in the drawer and gently closed it.</p> + +<p>"That way madness lies," he told himself, and turned to leave the room +and the house.</p> + +<p>As he reached for the light switch, a small hand laid on his own +detained him.</p> + +<p>Startled, he looked up and saw a witch-like, eerie face smiling at him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Must you go?" whispered a mocking voice, and Peter Boots, for once in +his life was absolutely stricken dumb.</p> + +<p>Who or what was this sprite, this Brownie? What was she doing in his +father's house? Were materialized spirits really inhabiting the place?</p> + +<p>"Hush!" Zizi warned him, "don't speak above a whisper. Are you a +burglar?"</p> + +<p>Peter shook his head, unable to repress a smile, and his smile made the +same impression on Zizi that it had always made on everybody,—that of +absolute pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" she asked, scarce breathing the words.</p> + +<p>"John Harrison," he returned, still smiling. "I'll go now, please."</p> + +<p>"Without further explanation?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, please."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll let you out. I know all about you. You sent a chap here +to interview Mr. Crane,—and you're getting follow-up literature."</p> + +<p>"Right! Good night."</p> + +<p>And with a swiftness and silence born of the dire necessity of the +moment, Peter went to the front door, out of it and down the street in +record time.</p> + +<p>He turned the first corner, and walked rapidly many blocks, before +turning to see if he were followed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was not, and he went on his way to Brooklyn, his life tragedy still +ahead of him, but relieved by the touch of comedy added by that +mysterious and wonderfully attractive girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>Zizi's Opportunity</h3> + +<p>The Blair case had come to a standstill. Although the police were still +making investigations, they were fairly well satisfied that Thorpe was +the guilty man and since he was jailed and awaiting trial, they rested +on their laurels.</p> + +<p>Pennington Wise was by no means sure of Thorpe's guilt, and Zizi was +certain of his innocence, but though these two were working hard, as yet +they had found no other definite suspect.</p> + +<p>"But you must, Zizi," wailed Julie. "You know as well as I do that Mac +never killed Gilbert. Now, find out who did!"</p> + +<p>Wise confessed himself baffled, but asked for a little more time before +admitting himself vanquished.</p> + +<p>"You see, Ziz," he said to his astute young helper, "there are so many +interesting side issues, that we get off the main track. I own up I'm +quite as much absorbed in this Spiritism racket as I am in the murder +case."</p> + +<p>"That's the trouble, Penny," Zizi returned, gravely. "You're scattering +your energies. And it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> won't do. You've got to concentrate on the Blair +murder. And you've got to get at it from a different angle. Suppose you +take a run out West and see that mother and sister. They may give you a +line on things."</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking I'd do that. There must be something in Blair's past +that can be unearthed and may prove enlightening. I could do it in a +week, and it might be time well spent."</p> + +<p>"Of course it would. And, truly, there's no way to look, here. I've +thought and thought but we've no hint or clew pointing to any one but +Thorpe,—and, it wasn't Thorpe."</p> + +<p>Then Zizi told him of the strange man she had seen in the Crane library +the night before.</p> + +<p>"And you let him get away! Why, Zizi?"</p> + +<p>"He was no burglar. I saw that. There was no use in alarming the house. +He was——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew at once who he was. He was the John Harrison who sent that +Douglas person here to interview Mr. Crane."</p> + +<p>"Well, is he to be allowed to walk in and out as he chooses! How did he +get in?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, but I hope he'll come again. I like him. Why, Penny, he's +a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"But who is he? What's he up to?"</p> + +<p>"He didn't confide in me, but I know. He's the medium's agent. He comes +here and gets data and information and tells her and she works it off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +on the Cranes. I saw through that at once. He must have a key and he +just walks in and helps himself, you see."</p> + +<p>"Absurd!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe; but that's what he does, all the same."</p> + +<p>"And he told you his name!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but that's nothing. He'll have another name and another home +before night. These mediums resort to the strangest tricks to get their +stuff! Why, Penny, he was prowling in that drawer where the tobacco +pouch is, and I think he meant to take it away so they could +'materialize' it over again. I'm going to watch for him nights. He'll +come again."</p> + +<p>But Zizi was mistaken. John Harrison did not come again, though the girl +was alert to welcome him.</p> + +<p>Pennington Wise went West, to see the relatives of Blair, for it had +frequently been his experience that such inquiries into a man's early +life brought about useful knowledge.</p> + +<p>This left Zizi in a position of responsibility, to keep watch of +developments and to learn what she could from them.</p> + +<p>She was not so sure as Julie of Thorpe's innocence, but she meant to +find another suspect if one could be found, and she redoubled her +efforts.</p> + +<p>Zizi had become a welcome guest in the Thorpe household, and they all +admired and loved her. A most adaptable little piece, she fitted into +the family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> as if she belonged there, and she and Julie were warm +friends.</p> + +<p>She said nothing of the midnight intruder, being determined in her own +mind, that he was an emissary from the medium, Madame Parlato, whom Zizi +regarded as an absolute fake. To prove this was a desire of Zizi's mind +as well as to solve the mystery of the Blair murder.</p> + +<p>But her fondness for the Cranes was such, that she was not sure she +should expose the medium's trickery, even if she discovered it herself. +So she went on with her secret investigations, and at present they +included an inquiry into the matter of that reporter's visit and John +Harrison's appearance on the scene.</p> + +<p>Zizi had, of course, read Benjamin Crane's book, and in it had seen the +picture of Peter, but the portrait was so different in effect from the +bearded man whom she saw but indistinctly by the dim light in the +library that she never connected the two in her thoughts.</p> + +<p>But she thoroughly believed that the man in the library had come there +for the purpose of acquiring either information or materials for further +manifestations of the medium. She was sure that the tobacco pouch and +the handkerchief which had been "materialized" had been obtained in this +way and, she argued, the best way to find out, was to remain silent as +to John Harrison's call.</p> + +<p>When told by Mr. Crane of the visit of Douglas,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> the reporter, Zizi had +suspected something beneath the surface,—it did not seem plausible to +her, that the case was just as it was stated.</p> + +<p>And somehow, in the back of her astute little brain, she had a notion +that the Blair murder and the supernatural manifestations were in some +way connected, at least, indirectly.</p> + +<p>So she was merely receptive, and put herself in the way of learning all +she could of the medium's affairs without showing her own hand. She +obtained a detailed account of the <i>séances</i> from the elder Cranes, and +each time she became not only more convinced of the medium's fraud, but +sure that the faker, more and more secure in her clients' credulity, was +growing both daring and careless.</p> + +<p>This, Zizi concluded, was her opportunity, and she hoped to profit by +her knowledge of the visit of John Harrison.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And meantime, the so-called John Harrison, whom Zizi had sized up so +mistakenly, was puzzling his head over the identity of the girl who had +seen him.</p> + +<p>He was not alarmed by fear of discovery, for he could change his name +and address at will, but he was piqued by the saucy announcement that +she knew all about him, and amazed at her knowledge that he had sent +Douglas to see Benjamin Crane.</p> + +<p>Moreover, the sight of that familiar old tobacco pouch of his own had +stirred him, and some logical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> deductions that followed in its train +caused him to reconsider his decision to disappear at once.</p> + +<p>"But I got to have some money," he reasoned, "and I think I know how to +get it!"</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, he did. He had in his mind a plot for a moving +picture, which he had long cherished and thought over, but which he had +never put on paper. The success of Shelby's great picture put it in his +mind to try to sell his own. He was tempted to take it to the Shelby +corporation but knowing it wiser, he went to a rival company.</p> + +<p>As his plot was new, original and decidedly meritorious, he had no +trouble in finding a market. He learned that he could sell merely his +plot, that the "continuity" work would be done by their own people; and +delighted to receive a most satisfactory lump sum, John Harrison gave +his name as Louis Bartram, and removed to another hotel, where he +registered under his new name.</p> + +<p>For Peter Crane had resolved to do a little investigating on his own +hook, and he realized that since the girl at his home knew his present +cognomen it must be changed.</p> + +<p>Louis Bartram, therefore, sent for Douglas, and took that mystified +young man into his confidence to a degree.</p> + +<p>"It's this way, Douglas," he said, "I give you my word I'm straight and +all right, but I'm unraveling a mystery, and I'm incog for the present."</p> + +<p>Now nobody could look into Peter Crane's blue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> eyes and doubt his +veracity, and Douglas believed exactly what was told him.</p> + +<p>"Can I help?" he said, simply, and Louis Bartram told him he could.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, Bartram expeditiously acquired such information as he needed, +and the first item was the name and address of the medium who was +responsible for the <i>séances</i> detailed in Benjamin Crane's famous book.</p> + +<p>And then to the house of Madame Parlato, Louis Bartram went, having made +an appointment through the useful Douglas.</p> + +<p>The madame's quick glance of inquiry was satisfied and her ever-ready +suspicions lulled by her first glance into Peter's eyes. It was +impossible to distrust that frank gaze, and though Peter was an +unbeliever in her and all her works, yet his cause was honest and +sincere and he met her on her own ground.</p> + +<p>"You want a <i>séance</i>?" the occult lady inquired.</p> + +<p>"No, Madame Parlato," Peter returned, quietly, "I want to bribe you to +undertake a commission for me."</p> + +<p>"Wh—what!" she cried, turning white and quite losing her poise at his +astonishing remark.</p> + +<p>"Now, let's cut out all that," Peter went on, practically, "let's assume +that we've thrashed it all out, and agreed that you're one of the +cleverest of your sort and can fool the gullible ones very neatly. But, +let's also assume that when one who knows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> comes along that you will +meet him halfway, and at least, listen to his proposition."</p> + +<p>"But, this,—this is outrageous——"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. You see, I know of the faking you have done,—and are +doing,—in the Crane matter."</p> + +<p>"Oh,—ah——" Madame cautiously awaited further speech from her +attractive but unusual caller.</p> + +<p>"Yes,—and," here Peter made a bold stroke, "I know who is giving you +things to 'materialize,' and why, and I want to know how much you are +being paid, in order that I may offer you more to follow my directions."</p> + +<p>"I do not acknowledge that you are right——" she began, but Peter +interrupted:</p> + +<p>"You needn't; your expression, your countenance tells me all I want of +acknowledgment. Now, listen to reason. I only want one <i>séance</i>, +conducted according to my orders, and I'll pay you what you demand. Your +other patron needn't know anything about my hand in the matter."</p> + +<p>"I refuse your requests, sir. I resent your accusations, and unless you +leave here at once, I shall call——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you won't call the police, or any one else. You would greatly +object to an investigation of your place here, and you and I know why. +You'll do much better, madame, to listen to my proposition, and accept +it. You see,— I <i>know</i>!"</p> + +<p>The mysterious tone Peter used seemed to carry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> conviction, and with a +little shudder, Madame Parlato gave in.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" she asked, tremulously; "what do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"I intend to do a great many things," Peter replied, gravely, "but I +want very little. Only that you shall conduct a <i>séance</i>, at the time I +set and entirely in accordance with my orders."</p> + +<p>"And if I refuse?"</p> + +<p>"Then I shall feel it my duty to expose you as a fraud and a charlatan."</p> + +<p>The woman winced at these words, but meeting Peter's steely gaze and +realizing his power over her, she said:</p> + +<p>"First, tell me who you are."</p> + +<p>"I am Louis Bartram," he said, "you know that already. For the rest, I +am an investigator of psychic conditions and a student of the occult, +along certain definite lines. You will find it to your best advantage, +Madame, to be perfectly frank and truthful with me. Any other course you +will find most disastrous."</p> + +<p>"Are you—are you of the——"</p> + +<p>"Of the police? No, this is not an official investigation. And, +moreover, it all depends on yourself whether the results of our work +together are ever made public or not. Now, answer my questions. How did +you come to give these <i>séances</i> to the Cranes?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crane came and asked me to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where had he heard of you?"</p> + +<p>"I was recommended to him by some friends of his."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever know his son, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"No; I never heard of him until Mr. Crane came here."</p> + +<p>"And then you immediately got into spiritual communication with the dead +man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; that is my business."</p> + +<p>She spoke a little defiantly, and Peter smiled. "I know. I accept that. +Now, I'm a friend of the Cranes, because of having read that book. A man +who is so absolutely positive of his beliefs is too good and dear a man +to be disturbed in his enjoyment of them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Bartram, I'm glad you see it that way, too! Truly, I've come to +love the Cranes, and if—if I help along a little, it is largely for the +comfort and happiness it gives them."</p> + +<p>"I know,— I see; and I realize what an awful thing it would be if the +world were to learn that all the matter in his book is really false——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it would kill him! If you knew Mr. Crane, if you knew how his very +life is bound up in this matter, you would be even more assured what a +disaster it would be to have him in any way discredited!"</p> + +<p>Peter's heart fell at this, for he had a half hope that he could yet +bring himself to demolish his father's air castle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, then," he said, slowly, "I'll not discredit him, nor you, for, of +course, one involves the other. But this, on condition that you obey my +commands implicitly in this matter of a <i>séance</i>. If you fail me in one +particular, if you disobey one tiny detail, or, if you so much as hint a +word to your—your other employer,—I mean the one who has bribed you to +certain frauds,—then, I shall show you up, even if it does distress Mr. +and Mrs. Crane."</p> + +<p>Madame Parlato thought in silence for a moment. Then she said, astutely, +"I don't know who you are, Mr. Bartram, but I am quite certain you are +something more than you wish to tell. I mean a bigger factor in the +Crane affair than you admit. I ask no questions, I agree to your terms, +and I will do exactly as you direct, relying on your promise that if I +do so, you will not tell of any—any insincerity you may notice."</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment,—that promise may lead to complications. If the result +of my proposed procedure is to reveal your—er,—insincerity—I cannot +be responsible for the consequences. Those you will have to bear. But I +will admit that my interests are those of Benjamin Crane, and I shall do +all in my power to preserve his secrets and, thereby, yours."</p> + +<p>"I think, then, you may go ahead and tell me your plans that you wish me +to carry out."</p> + +<p>"I've revised them,'" Peter said, thoughtfully,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> "they may, as I now see +it, call for more than one <i>séance</i>. But here's for a starter. When do +you expect Mr. Crane again?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"All right. Merely give him a further materialization. And let the +object be this,"—he laid a small paper parcel before her, which he had +taken from his pocket,—"yes,—and this," and he produced a second +parcel.</p> + +<p>She opened the papers, and found the first to be a handkerchief, the +duplicate of the one already "materialized" and bearing the monogram +Carly had so painstakingly embroidered.</p> + +<p>The other parcel contained a silver quarter of a dollar, one side of +which had been smoothed off and engraved with the entwined letters P. C.</p> + +<p>"These belonged to the son?" Madame exclaimed, excitedly. "Where did you +get them?"</p> + +<p>"From the son," replied Louis Bartram; "but remember you are under oath +of secrecy. You are merely to produce these things as materializations +at your next session with Mr. Crane, and also,—I want to be +present,—unseen. Can it be managed?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, that's easy enough."</p> + +<p>Further arrangements were made, terms were agreed on, and Louis Bartram +went away from the house of the medium in New York and returned to his +hotel in Brooklyn.</p> + +<p>And as he came down the steps of the Parlato<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> residence, a small, dark +girl, who was walking by, quickly scuttled around a corner, and out of +his line of vision.</p> + +<p>"I knew it!" Zizi said to herself, exultantly, "he's in cahoots with the +spook woman! He's been there to give her things to materialize and soon +I'll hear of them! He came to the house and stole something which she +will use to fool poor old Mr. Crane. You'll see!"</p> + +<p>Zizi talked enthusiastically to herself, resolving to learn more of this +attractive young man's identity.</p> + +<p>"Clever, wasn't he?" she asked of herself, "to send that reporter around +first,—probably he stole a key to the house,—oh, it's a whole big +organization, I suppose, and they cover their tracks so completely +they're not even suspected."</p> + +<p>Acting on an impulse, she turned and went back to the house of the +medium. By strategy, she succeeded in getting an interview, although she +had no appointment.</p> + +<p>"I have come to warn you," she said, without preamble, looking into the +woman's eyes, "I am a detective, and I am onto your game. I know that +man who just left here, he is your tool, your accomplice. Also, I know +that he stole some things from the Crane house that you intend to use in +your so-called materializations. Now, I warn you that if you do that, I +shall see to it that your deceit is shown up, your fraud exposed!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My Lord," cried the puzzled Madame, "who are you? Why do you think that +man is my accomplice? It is not so! I never laid eyes on him until this +morning!"</p> + +<p>"That is not true," Zizi said, sure of her ground, and wondering why the +medium looked so unfeignedly puzzled. "He works for you——"</p> + +<p>"He does not! He is a client. Now you leave, or I'll have you put out."</p> + +<p>"I am going to leave," and Zizi rose, "but you remember what I said. If +you show up any more materialized belongings of Mr. Crane's dead son, +I'll have you exposed and arrested!"</p> + +<p>It is doubtful which of the two was more perplexed by this conversation.</p> + +<p>Zizi, with her quick reading of human nature, saw that Madame Parlato +was truly surprised at the girl's accusation of an accomplice, +therefore, she decided, he could not be an accomplice, after all. And if +not, what was he, and what was he doing at the medium's house?</p> + +<p>That he was a client, she did not believe, for had she not seen him, +rummaging in the Crane library and in that table drawer? It was all most +mysterious and Zizi determined to stick to this new mystery in hopes it +would shed some light on the old ones.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Madame Parlato was absolutely bewildered. Who was this strange +girl who had come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> flying in with an incredible tale about the new +client being an accomplice of her own?</p> + +<p>Nor did that question trouble her so much as the consideration of what +she should do next? She had arranged to have Mr. Crane at a <i>séance</i> the +next evening, and to have Mr. Louis Bartram concealed in an adjoining +room, where he could see and hear without being discovered.</p> + +<p>Now, if she failed to use the objects he had directed her to use she +feared his ire and vengeance, while if she did use them, this awful +child, who called herself a detective, threatened exposure!</p> + +<p>To be sure, she told herself, that little scrap of humanity couldn't be +a detective, the thought was impossible. Yet the child's words and tones +had carried conviction. Indeed, she was no child, though small enough to +be one. She was either a detective, the Madame finally decided, or, she +was a fake medium herself, and had some unknown ax to grind.</p> + +<p>In any case, the way of the transgressor was hard, and the occult lady +thought a long time before she came to a decision.</p> + +<p>But the conclusion she reached was to obey the orders of Louis Bartram. +He was a far more formidable antagonist, there must be more real danger +in disobeying him than that chit of a girl.</p> + +<p>So Madame laid her plans, prepared her properties, and, with fear in her +heart, arranged for the forthcoming <i>séance</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Zizi, worried and uncertain, in Wise's absence, as to just what she +should do, laid her plans to be present also at Benjamin Crane's next +session with the medium.</p> + +<p>And Peter Boots, communing with himself, and rapidly getting more and +more excited at his discoveries and the developments of his theories, +impatiently awaited the hour when he should see his father and perhaps +his mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>The Heart Helper</h3> + +<p>Never during her association with Wise, had Zizi wanted him so much as +she did at present. The situation, she felt, was too big for her to +handle, and the contradictory conclusions forced upon her bewildered +her.</p> + +<p>Public interest in the Blair murder had waned, or at least it was +waiting for the trial of McClellan Thorpe, and while the police were +ready to listen to any new evidence or theories, none seemed to be +forthcoming.</p> + +<p>Julie was in despair, feeling that the great Pennington Wise was making +no headway in his endeavors to free Thorpe, and Benjamin Crane too was +beginning to doubt Wise's ability.</p> + +<p>Zizi, therefore, felt the brunt of upholding her colleague's reputation +for cleverness and success, and now that things were getting so +complicated, and Penny Wise so far away, the girl felt her +responsibility almost greater than she could bear.</p> + +<p>But, she concluded, after deep thought, the first and most important +thing to be done was to locate that John Harrison.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>From Benjamin Crane she obtained the address of young Douglas, the +reporter, and went to see him.</p> + +<p>Douglas was greatly pleased with the appearance and manner of his +visitor, for Zizi was at her sparkling best, and that was very good +indeed.</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Douglas," she confided with a captivating smile, "I'm a +Heart Helper."</p> + +<p>"A what?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I help people's hearts,—people who are sad or in trouble. Now, +I'm working in the interests of a dear friend, a lovely girl, whose +sweetheart is being most unjustly treated, and only I can set things +straight. Think of that!"</p> + +<p>The great dark eyes flashed an appealing glance at him, and Zizi's red +mouth took a sorrowful droop at the corners.</p> + +<p>Instinctively he yearned to bring back the smile and he said, promptly, +"Can I help you? Is that why you come to me?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," and Zizi beamed at him, quite completing his undoing.</p> + +<p>"And what I want," she went on quickly, lest she lose her +suddenly-acquired power over him, "is only the address of Mr. John +Harrison."</p> + +<p>Douglas's face fell, and he plainly showed his embarrassment and +chagrin.</p> + +<p>"That I can't tell you," he began,—but paused at the look of despair +that came to Zizi's expressive face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, please," she begged. "It's so necessary,—so important. I won't +make any wrong use of the information. Please tell me."</p> + +<p>"But I can't, Miss Zizi. You see, Mr.—Harrison isn't where he was. +He—he isn't anywhere."</p> + +<p>Clearly, Douglas thought, he was making a mess of things. But what could +he say?</p> + +<p>"Are you making game of me?" Zizi's tone was wistful, and with her head +cocked to one side like an alert bird, she waited breathlessly for his +answer.</p> + +<p>"No, not a bit of it!"</p> + +<p>"But—you say—he isn't anywhere! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Still under the spell of her smile, her fascinating manner, and her +sweet, piquant little face, Douglas hesitated,—and was lost.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, he,—he was somebody else. I mean he isn't,—that is, he +isn't himself."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you are?" Zizi laughed outright, so infectiously, that +Douglas joined in.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not!" he admitted. "Now, if you're not, either, we're all in +the same boat."</p> + +<p>But Zizi was not to be put off with foolery.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Douglas," she said, seriously, "truly, I'm on an important errand, +and one involving grave consequences. You can help greatly by giving me +that man's address, and help not only the girl of whom I spoke, but help +the cause of right and justice, even, perhaps, in a matter of life and +death. Don't refuse——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But if I don't refuse, I must at least inquire. And, suppose I tell you +that Mr. Harrison does not want his address known?"</p> + +<p>"I assumed that. But, suppose I tell you that it may help to clear up +one of the greatest mysteries of the day if you will just give me a hint +where I can find that man. And, even though he has forbidden you to +tell, I think I can assure you that he won't mind my knowing the secret, +and if he does mind I'll persuade him to exonerate you."</p> + +<p>Zizi had meant to take quite a different tack,—use hints of legal +authority or suggest his duty to humanity, but intuition told her that +this man was best persuaded by coaxing,—and Zizi could coax!</p> + +<p>She succeeded only partly. After she convinced Douglas of the wisdom of +such a course he told her that John Harrison had been at the Hotel +Consul in Brooklyn, but had left there, and had left no further address.</p> + +<p>Moreover, he declared he had no knowledge whatever of the whereabouts of +John Harrison at the present time.</p> + +<p>"No!" and Zizi flashed a quizzical smile, "because he has changed his +name! I know that from your emphatic declaration! But I'll find him. +Good-by."</p> + +<p>Zizi betook herself forthwith to the Hotel Consul.</p> + +<p>A polite clerk informed her that Mr. Harrison had checked out, leaving +no address.</p> + +<p>Determinedly she interviewed the cab drivers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> ranked in front of the +hotel, and by a lucky chance found the one who had driven Mr. Harrison +away. A proper bribe brought the knowledge that he had been driven to +the Wilfer, a much smaller hotel nearby.</p> + +<p>To the Hotel Wilfer Zizi went, and learned there was no John Harrison +there, but a very few inquiries proved to her astute intellect that the +Louis Bartram, who was the only guest registered at that time on that +afternoon, was in all probability the man she sought. At any rate there +was no harm in trying.</p> + +<p>She asked for an interview, and was connected with Mr. Bartram's rooms +by telephone.</p> + +<p>"I want to see you again," she said, in response to his Hello,—"Let me +come up, Mr. Midnight Visitor, please."</p> + +<p>Partly the pleading voice, partly the fact that Peter was eager for new +developments in his devious course, and partly a sudden recollection of +the girl he had seen in his father's library, brought about a cordial +invitation to "come along."</p> + +<p>And Zizi exultantly went, hoping against hope that she was on her way to +learn something of real importance.</p> + +<p>For so many hopeful openings had proved blind alleys, so many bright +prospects of success had dimmed on nearer view, that Zizi had begun to +lose heart, and this seemed to her perhaps a last chance.</p> + +<p>Peter received her in his sitting room, and as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> the big dark eyes looked +deep into the chicory blue ones, and both smiled, it was impossible to +be formal.</p> + +<p>"Why are you a burglar, Mr. Bartram," Zizi said, as she seated herself +sociably in the depths of a big armchair. "You don't look the part a +bit."</p> + +<p>"What is <i>your</i> calling?" he countered; "for unless it is that of a +witch or Brownie, I'm sure <i>you</i> don't look it."</p> + +<p>"I am all of those things," she announced, calmly, crossing her dainty +feet and gazing guilelessly at him. "I'm a witch, a Brownie, a sprite, +an elf, a kobold, a pixie——"</p> + +<p>"That's enough. They're all tarred with the same brush. And why am I +favored with this angel visit?"</p> + +<p>"So you may answer my question, which you so rudely ignored. Why are you +a burglar?"</p> + +<p>"But I'm not. Can your ingenuity suggest no explanation of a man's +presence in another man's house at midnight save a burglarious motive? I +took no jewels nor plate away with me."</p> + +<p>"So you didn't. But, I admit motives seem scarce. You were not intending +a social call, were you? You didn't come to read the meter or repair the +plumbing? You were not seeking a lodging for the night?"</p> + +<p>"None of those, Miss Brownie. But, why am I obliged to tell?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because I ask it," and Zizi's pretty powers of coaxing were put to the +utmost test.</p> + +<p>"I admit that constitutes an obligation, but, I am not going to meet +it," and the big man settled back comfortably in his chair and smiled +benignly but a trifle exasperatingly.</p> + +<p>"Then,—" and the little brown face became serious, the merry light went +out of the dark eyes, and Zizi said, coldly, "Then I will tell you. You +are a burglar,—you did take valuables from Mr. Crane's house,—at least +they were valuable to you, though perhaps of small intrinsic worth."</p> + +<p>"Whatever <i>do</i> you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that you are the accomplice of that woman who calls herself a +medium,—that woman who is a fraud, a fake, a miserable charlatan! You +came to the house to get some more belongings of Mr. Crane's dead +son's,—in order to take them to the Parlato woman and let her trade +further on an old man's credulity! That's what you were there for!"</p> + +<p>Zizi's nerves were at high tension. She thoroughly believed every word +she said, and she felt that perhaps the best way to make this man own up +was to put the case thus straightforwardly.</p> + +<p>Peter Boots looked at her, his expression changing from amazement to +amusement and then to sympathy.</p> + +<p>"No," he said gently, "I didn't do that. I swear I didn't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then why were you there?"</p> + +<p>Uncertain what to say, Peter just sat and looked at her.</p> + +<p>And somehow,—by some subtle intelligence or telepathic flash—all of a +sudden,—Zizi knew!</p> + +<p>"Oh," she breathed, her eyes like stars, "oh,—you're Peter Boots!"</p> + +<p>Slowly, Peter nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I am. Now, what are we going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"Do about it? Why, everything! Oh,—wait a minute,—let me take it +in,—let me think what it will mean——"</p> + +<p>"To father? Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>These two, so lately strangers, were immediately at one. Zizi, with her +instantaneous understanding and quick appreciation saw the whole +situation at once, and realized fully its tragedy.</p> + +<p>"It can't be, you know," she cried out; "it mustn't be! Think of +the——"</p> + +<p>"I know," returned Peter, "I've thought."</p> + +<p>Instead of being appalled at the knowledge that his secret was out, +Peter felt a positive relief, a sudden let-down of his strained nerves, +and a queer sensation of confidence in this strange girl's powers to set +things right.</p> + +<p>Peter's intuitions were quick and true; Zizi was not only charming, but +gave an effect of capability and efficiency that were as balm and +comfort to poor, harassed Peter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was willing to nail his colors to her mast; to give his affairs and +perplexities into her hands; to abide by her decisions.</p> + +<p>And Zizi accepted the tremendous responsibility gravely.</p> + +<p>"But it is all too wonderful," she said. "What happened? Where have you +been?"</p> + +<p>"Two broken legs,—compound fractures,—frozen +feet,—gangrene—ugh!—fierce—cut it out!"</p> + +<p>"The gangrene!" cried Zizi, horrified.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I didn't mean that. I meant can the description of my +sufferings! They'd put the early Christian martyrs to the blush. They +would indeed! But let's take up the tale from the present moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, wait a minute,—do! Who rescued you? Why haven't you——"</p> + +<p>"Lumbermen,—camp, miles from any sort of a lemon. Couldn't get into +communication. Fiercest winter ever known,—everything cut off from +everything else. Came home the minute I could,—and,—oh, thunder! how I +want to know things! Tell me heaps, do! And who are you, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Heavens, what a tale! Yes, I'll tell you everything, but what shall I +fly at first? And—oh, I can't stand the responsibility of your secret! +I can't! Why are you keeping it secret? On account of your father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the sole reason. How can I come forward,—the son who is +supposed dead,—who is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> supposed to come back as a spook,—the son who +has had a book written about him——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a situation! And your father so wrapped up in the whole +business,—so positive in his beliefs——"</p> + +<p>"And that rascally medium!"</p> + +<p>"And those wicked materializations!"</p> + +<p>"And the fool Ouija Board!"</p> + +<p>"And that letter from you to Julie—oh, I say!"</p> + +<p>"And <i>I</i> say! But, tell me, what can I do? Do you see it as I do? That I +must go away again, disappear forever,—or——"</p> + +<p>"Or break your father's heart,— I mean,—oh, I don't know what I mean! +Mr. Peter, I think I'll lose my mind!"</p> + +<p>"I've almost lost mine, puzzling over the thing. But I've put the kibosh +on that Parlato!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's why you were there! I got things all wrong, didn't I? And +you came to your own home——"</p> + +<p>"Only because of a terrible attack of homesickness. You see, I still +have my latch key, and if you hadn't seen me, I should have merely had a +good look around, and then silently steal away, without, however, +stealing anything else!"</p> + +<p>Zizi smiled at her accusation of his burglarious intent, and then sat +musing.</p> + +<p>"I can't grapple with it," she said, at last. "It's too big. I shall +telegraph for Mr. Wise. He must come back at once and help us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Miss Zizi, I'm not lying down on this job myself. I'm +not asking you to carry my burdens or fight my battles. I am very much +able to hoe my own row,—only I fear it's going to be a hard one. I'm +going to depend on you for help, if I may, but I'll take the helm; Peter +Boots leads, he doesn't follow."</p> + +<p>Zizi gazed at him, her eyes moist with emotional admiration. This man, +this splendid, fine man,—to efface himself to save his father's +reputation,—it was too bad! She couldn't stand it.</p> + +<p>"Now, wait," she began; "wouldn't your father,—your mother,—rather +have you back with them in the flesh,—than to have their pride spared?"</p> + +<p>"Answer that yourself," he returned. "I admit that if that question were +put to them, they would doubtless say yes. But that's not the thing. The +point is, they're reconciled to my loss, happy in the experiences +they're having,—delusions though they are,—and contented, even +exultant, in things as they are. Why disturb that happiness, for my +selfish reasons? Why not leave them to their Fools' Paradise,—for +that's what it is,—and not take the chance of what might easily be a +distressing disillusion?"</p> + +<p>"It would indeed be that," Zizi spoke gravely; "I know it would. But +what will you do?"</p> + +<p>"Go 'way off somewhere,—start fresh,—make a new name and fame for +myself and forget——"</p> + +<p>"Sacrifice your own identity to your father's reputation?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Exactly that,—and, simply, it is my duty."</p> + +<p>"And Carlotta Harper?"</p> + +<p>Peter jumped.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about Carly," he said, speaking thickly. "Is she engaged to +Shelby?"</p> + +<p>"No, she isn't!"</p> + +<p>"I heard she was."</p> + +<p>"Probably he hinted it, and the report started. He's eternally after +her, but, to my certain knowledge she hasn't yet said yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! Dear little Carly! What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"She would go with you,—into a new life——"</p> + +<p>"No; don't be absurd! This secret must be kept inviolably. Nor could I +marry her under an assumed name, even if she were willing. Also, she may +have forgotten me."</p> + +<p>"No, she has not. Oh, Mr. Peter, you must come home."</p> + +<p>"I can't. But tell me more,—tell me of mother, of Julie,—why, I sent a +reporter to the house just to get a line on home life,—on present +conditions,—oh, little girl, you don't know what I suffered; it's all +so foolish,—so absurd,—the spook stuff, I mean,—yet, as I've learned, +it's the very breath of life to my Dad."</p> + +<p>"It is; but, look at the thing from another angle. Couldn't you help +unravel the Blair mystery. Here's Mr. Thorpe held for a crime I don't +think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> he committed; here's Julie crying her eyes out because of it——"</p> + +<p>"Julie! She and Thorpe!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, didn't you know that?"</p> + +<p>"No; are they engaged?"</p> + +<p>"In a way. If Thorpe should be freed Mr. Crane will give his consent. If +Thorpe is convicted——"</p> + +<p>"He shan't be convicted! He never killed Blair! I'll find out who killed +Blair, and then I'll go away after that. I'll help Julie,—why, Thorpe +wouldn't kill Gilbert, why should he?"</p> + +<p>"You've read the case?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and thought how little evidence there was against Thorpe. But, I'm +ashamed to say, my own affairs rather blotted the matter out. But if +Julie's concerned, that's another matter. I'll free Thorpe,—and I can +do it, too!"</p> + +<p>"Then it's most certainly your duty, for many reasons. Look here, Mr. +Peter, don't let your ideas of duty get over-sentimental regarding your +father."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't!" Peter waxed impatient. "But I've mulled over the thing to +the very end, and I know, I <i>know</i> father would be happier left to his +delusions. Yes, and mother, too. You see, I've read the book, and +knowing Dad as I do, I read between the lines, and I see how it would be +like stabbing his heart and draining his life blood to stultify that +book. No, Zizi, don't tempt me,—indeed, you can't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, then, come back to the murder case. Have you any suspect other +than Thorpe?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sometimes, I think I have. But it's a serious thing to accuse, +without evidence. Now, I think I can get evidence, but mainly from +Madame Parlato. You see, she has been bribed by a powerful +influence,—she is absolutely under orders from some one, and it is +because of that she is so frightened for fear of exposure. I think in +the ordinary <i>séance</i> with my father, where my spirit—ugh!—appears and +talks guff and rubbish, the medium is more fool than knave. But when the +spirit gives information concerning the murderer,—and wrong +information,—it's criminal work itself, and ought to be shown up."</p> + +<p>"Showing up the medium would expose the falsity of your father's book, +even without your reappearance."</p> + +<p>"I've thought of that, but there's duty there, too. If I can free Mac +Thorpe from unjust accusations, and incidentally, I'm thinking of +Julie,—it's in all ways my duty to do so,—even if——"</p> + +<p>"Even if it makes your father a butt for ridicule."</p> + +<p>"Yes, even that. All things are matters of comparison. Thorpe's life, or +even Thorpe's name mustn't be sacrificed to father's feelings. I may +sacrifice my own future, even my own life if I choose, but not that of +another."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you sure Mr. Thorpe is innocent?"</p> + +<p>"As sure as shooting! But you must tell me all the details of your +investigations. I've studied the newspaper reports, but I want your +accounts, too. When can you get Wise back here? Send for him at once, +will you? He can't get anything on Blair out there. Blair's life was +blameless. I know it as I know my own. Why, Zizi, you don't realize,— +I've lived with my family and my friends for a whole long lot of years. +I'm no newcomer, except regarding the last six months. You can't tell me +of Blair's character, or Thorpe's either. Now, what I want to puzzle out +is whether I can do my part in producing the real murderer, without +revealing my presence here and without even showing my hand in the +matter."</p> + +<p>"You might appear as your own spook."</p> + +<p>"I've thought of that, and it offers wide possibilities. But it isn't +fair to mother and Dad. Let the medium fool them, if she will, it's not +for their own son to fool them, too! No, I can't do that."</p> + +<p>"You might appear to the—the criminal."</p> + +<p>"And give him the scare of his life! Yes, I might do that. But I'm not +yet sure he is the criminal,—I'm basing my suspicion on generalities, +not any specific evidence."</p> + +<p>"Tell me his name."</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Let's plan a little first. You see, I've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> arranged a fake +<i>séance</i> with Madame Parlato. If I rearrange it a bit, it may serve our +purpose. I'll postpone it until Mr. Wise can get back, and then we'll +see what we shall see!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>The Confession</h3> + +<p>Peter Boots arranged and rearranged his plans for the <i>séance</i> many +times.</p> + +<p>Though still living under the name of Louis Bartram, he had cast aside +fear of having his real identity discovered, pretty sure, now, that it +must come sooner or later.</p> + +<p>His present concern was with the discovery of Blair's murderer, and +thereby the freeing of his sister's fiancé. These accomplished he would +consider the case of his own restored identity, if it were not by that +time a foregone conclusion.</p> + +<p>Pennington Wise came back from the West, and was let into the secret.</p> + +<p>His amazement was beyond all bounds when Zizi took him over to the +Brooklyn hotel and he met Peter Crane.</p> + +<p>"This thing has never been equaled in my experience," he declared. "And +no one but Zizi could have found you out, unless you chose to make +yourself known. Now, we must move warily,—your quarry may get away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know whom I suspect?" asked Peter in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do, and I've had the same suspect from the beginning. But I +couldn't get a shred of evidence,—haven't any yet,— I say, Mr. Crane, +suppose you confide in me fully. You'll have no cause to regret it."</p> + +<p>So Peter Boots and Pennington Wise and Zizi had a long confab, in which +all cards were laid on the table, and all details of the plan settled.</p> + +<p>Wise agreed that it would be a fearful blow to Benjamin Crane's pride, +but he held that the author of the book about Peter would receive no +blame and the fame of the affair would be world-wide, which would make +up for the blow to the author's vanity.</p> + +<p>Peter was not convinced of this, but agreed to go ahead as Wise +suggested. Indeed, he had no choice, for it now rested on his statements +whether an innocent man was tried for crime or not.</p> + +<p>The medium was completely suborned. She was instructed that if she +obeyed orders implicitly and succeeded in fulfilling the desires of her +new employers, she would be paid a large sum of money, and enabled to +leave the country secretly and safety.</p> + +<p>For, after all, she was doing no more than the great army of "mediums" +all over the world, and if she achieved good at last, they wished no +harm to come to her.</p> + +<p>"Moreover," as Peter said, "she was a great comfort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> to my parents in my +absence, and when they know of my presence, they'll have no further use +for Madame!"</p> + +<p>The <i>séance</i> was staged in the Crane home.</p> + +<p>It was a simple matter for Madame Parlato to persuade Benjamin Crane to +allow her to hold a session there, promising him a probable +materialization of his son, if allowed to attempt it in the scenes +familiar to Peter Boots.</p> + +<p>It was pathetic to see the hope and joy on the faces of Peter's father +and mother as they were offered this experience. Gladly they accepted +the proposition, and when the medium further advised them to invite a +few friends, they willingly did so.</p> + +<p>It was not announced that materialization was expected,—Madame Parlato +preferred it should not be, she said; so the friends were merely asked +to a <i>séance</i>.</p> + +<p>After all, Zizi, who had charge of the invitations informed them, +interest must be falling off, for no one was coming except Miss Harper, +who would also bring Mr. Shelby.</p> + +<p>However, with the Crane household, that made quite a group, and as +Detective Weston had heard about it, and asked to be present he also had +a seat, in the rear of the room.</p> + +<p>There was no air of secrecy, the waiting audience were receptive, +hopeful or skeptical as their natures prompted.</p> + +<p>Shelby and Carlotta whispered to each other that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> they were glad to see +a specimen of the genius that had hoaxed so able a mind as Benjamin +Crane's. Julie was out of sorts and sad, for she disliked the whole +subject, and pitied her father and mother for their absorption in it.</p> + +<p>At last Madame Parlato appeared.</p> + +<p>She was an impressive looking woman, tall, slender, and with the +traditional long green eyes and red hair. Her face was very white, but +she was calm and well-poised, and seemed to feel a great sense of +responsibility.</p> + +<p>She had not been informed of Peter's identity, but she knew him to be +acquainted with the man whom she still considered dead, and she knew +that Mr. Bartram was to impersonate Peter Crane.</p> + +<p>She asked the eight people present to sit in a circle and join hands, +allowing herself to make one of them.</p> + +<p>Weston flatly refused to do this, saying he preferred to sit alone at +the back of the room. He did so, and took his place near the door of the +small library of Mr. Crane's, the session being held in the large living +room.</p> + +<p>The medium requested that the lights be shut entirely off, saying that +sufficient illumination would come in from the street to prevent total +darkness.</p> + +<p>This proved to be true, and the dim light was just enough for them to +distinguish one another's forms but not faces.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poppycock," whispered Shelby to Carlotta, as he held her hand.</p> + +<p>Zizi, who sat on Shelby's other side, heard it and answered, +"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>Then the usual things happened. The medium went into a trance state, and +the regular proceedings took place.</p> + +<p>She gave messages to Mr. Crane, purporting to be from his dead son. She +gave messages to Julie and to Peter's mother, all vapid and meaningless +and mentally scoffed at by all present, except the two elderly +listeners.</p> + +<p>At last the medium said, "I am weary,—weary,—I would sleep. The spirit +of Peter Crane himself would speak to you."</p> + +<p>"Will you?" eagerly asked Benjamin Crane, "will you speak yourself, +Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," came a reply, and everybody started.</p> + +<p>Surely that was Peter's own voice! Not loud, almost a whisper, but with +the unmistakable cadence and tone of Peter, himself.</p> + +<p>"That's Peter!" cried Julie, excitedly, "oh, father, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Hush, dear," her father said, himself greatly agitated. "One must be +very calm and quiet on these occasions. Peter Boots, will you talk with +us?"</p> + +<p>"Gladly, Dad," came the voice again,—seeming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> to emanate from behind +Detective Western's chair,—as indeed it did.</p> + +<p>"Then tell us of yourself, my boy."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crane said no word, but sat, her hand in that of her husband, full +of faith in the genuineness of it all, and ready to listen and believe.</p> + +<p>"I am very happy here, father," Peter's voice declared,—and Zizi bit +her lip to keep from smiling at the hackneyed phrase uttered by mortal +tongue!</p> + +<p>"You sound so real, Peter," Julie said, bluntly. "Is it always like +this?"</p> + +<p>For Julie had never attended a <i>séance</i> before.</p> + +<p>"No, sister," the voice said, speaking more clearly with every word; +"this is an unusual occasion. Perhaps,—perhaps the medium can bring +about materialization to-night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't," Julie cried out, "I'm scared!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, Julie," Peter said, his voice faint again, "I +won't hurt you."</p> + +<p>The well-remembered gentleness reassured Julie, and she held tight to +her parents' hands and listened.</p> + +<p>"I have a message for each of you," the voice went on; "or you may each +ask me a question, as you prefer."</p> + +<p>"I'll ask," Julie exclaimed; "Peter, dear Peter Boots, tell me that Mac +never killed Gilbert. I know it, yet I want you to say so. They told me +you didn't know, and that you were misinformed and all that. You do +know, don't you, Peter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, Julie, I know. And Mac didn't kill Gilbert at all. But I know who +did. Shall I tell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," cried out several in chorus.</p> + +<p>And then, from out the dark shadows behind Weston's chair, there slowly +appeared a dark, cloaked form. A black-draped, hooded figure, that moved +slowly toward them. A tall, big figure that seemed to loom out of the +darkness, and then the hood fell back a little, a white ghostly face +appeared dimly and a slowly raised hand pointed to Kit Shelby.</p> + +<p>"Thou art the man!" came in low, accusing tones, and they were +unmistakably Peter's.</p> + +<p>Julie shrieked, and the accused man gave a strange, guttural sound, +expressive of abject fear, and as the tall figure drew nearer, he rose +to flee from its avenging shape.</p> + +<p>Shelby didn't go far, for his progress was stopped by the burly form of +Detective Weston, who advised him to sit down.</p> + +<p>"Confess!" went on the figure that seemed to be Peter, and with wild +eyes, fairly starting from their sockets at the sight, Shelby cried out, +"I did, oh, Peter, I did!" and then he fell in a convulsion of fright +and terror.</p> + +<p>And then, Peter Boots himself switched on the lights, threw off his long +cloak, and turned to take his mother in his arms.</p> + +<p>"My boy, my boy!" she said, knowing intuitively<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> and instantaneously +that it was her son, alive and found.</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane was a picture of utter perplexity. Unable to accept the +obvious, he tried for a moment to believe in a marvelous +"materialization," but Peter came to him, smiling and holding out an +eager hand.</p> + +<p>"Welcome me home, Dad," he said, a quiver in his strong voice. "I know +what a shock it is, but brace up and meet it,— I'm here, and very much +alive. In fact, I never have been dead at all."</p> + +<p>"Peter,—Peter," his father muttered, and fearing ill effects, Zizi came +quickly to his side.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Crane," she said in her brisk little way. "Peter Boots, home +again. Never mind the spook stuff now. Cut it out,—forget it,—let him +tell us of his adventures."</p> + +<p>And now Carly came toward Peter.</p> + +<p>One glance passed between them, and she was in his arms, a smiling, +sweet Carly, who kissed him right before everybody, and said +triumphantly, "I knew you'd come back!"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Peter, happily holding her to him. "I had to, the +gypsies prophesied it, you know. They didn't mean come back as a silly +old spirit, they meant come back in the flesh, and here I am. Kit, old +man, I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>And there was infinite sorrow and pity in the face that Peter turned on +Shelby, who was still trembling and mouthing in a vain effort to speak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Get his confession," said Wise, lest when the shock wore off Shelby +might dare deny it all.</p> + +<p>But he couldn't speak, and out of very pity, Peter said, "I'll tell the +details, and Shelby can nod assent."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Weston, his eye on his prisoner.</p> + +<p>"I'll not tell of my experiences now, only to say there is no blame to +be attached to Shelby or to Blair or to the guide for my accident. I +fell in the snow, and somehow so managed to double my half-frozen legs +under me that the silly things both broke. I floundered in the drifts +but couldn't get up, nor could I make the boys hear my shouts, for the +wind was against me. Well, I was picked up—after many hours—by some +lumbermen and my tale of woe thereafter would fill a set of books. But +never mind that now, I got home just as soon as I possibly could, having +been absolutely unable to get a letter here any sooner than I could come +myself. I came back to find that Dad, supposing me dead, had written a +book,—oh, my eye! Dad, how you did butter me! Well, then I was up a +stump to know whether to make my joyous presence known and spill the +beans entirely or whether to sneak off, disappear forever and leave Dad +to his laurel and bay."</p> + +<p>"Peter! how could you dream of such a thing!" Benjamin Crane was himself +now. "I'd a million times rather have you back than to have written all +the books in the world!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, father, think what people will say! I understand your book is read +and discussed from pole to pole——"</p> + +<p>"And it may be hooted at from pole to pole for all I care! Oh, Peter! +Peter Boots! Good old chap!"</p> + +<p>Peter's blue eyes beamed. The thing that had worried him most had turned +out all right. Moreover, Carly seemed still kindly disposed toward him.</p> + +<p>Remained only the dreadful business of Shelby and that must be put +through.</p> + +<p>"Then," Peter resumed, "I came home, and found old Gilbert Blair was +dead. Murdered. And Mac Thorpe arrested for the crime.</p> + +<p>"I know Thorpe, and I know he never did it. And I wondered. Then I read +in father's book about that old tobacco pouch of mine being +'materialized.' So I knew there was trickery afoot. For I had handed +that pouch to Kit only a short time before I fell down. And he hadn't +handed it back. So, that accounted for its presence in the possession of +the medium, though it didn't necessarily incriminate Shelby. He might +have lost it or had it stolen from him.</p> + +<p>"But, next I went to the Picture Show of 'Labrador Luck.' That, or at +least the plot, the backbone of it, was Blair's and mine. Together we +doped it out, sitting by our camp fire up there in the wilds, old Kit +dozing near by. He talked with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> us about it now and then, but his plans +were different from ours. All for a monster, spectacular production +which he has achieved, while Blair and I planned a little light comedy +affair. But the plot, the great theme of the thing, was Blair's,—and I +denounce Kit Shelby as the murderer of Gilbert Blair for the purpose of +using that plot alone and in his own way! Another motive lay in the fact +of his admiration for Carlotta Harper, whom, he thought, Blair was about +to marry.</p> + +<p>"And, if these do not seem to you, Mr. Weston and Mr. Wise, sufficient +motive for murder, I will inform you that Blair had discovered Shelby's +visits to the medium, Parlato, and had learned that it was he who was +responsible for the tobacco pouch, the handkerchief and that forged +letter. Blair discovered or suspected all this, and went to the medium +and forced her to admit he was correct.</p> + +<p>"Wherefore, Shelby had to be exposed and ruined, or—had to close +Blair's lips forever. He chose the latter course. The method was by a +poisoned soda mint, as has been suspected, and this I know, because +Shelby and I talked over methods of murder, when we were discussing +detective stories, and he detailed to me the very plan that I am sure he +used himself, that of putting one poisoned pellet in a bottle of plain +ones, and letting the result happen when it might. His argument was, +that the murderer would be far from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> scene at the time death took +place. These statements I submit, and if Christopher Shelby can deny or +refute them, none will be more glad than I."</p> + +<p>Shelly maintained a sullen silence, refusing to look at Peter at all.</p> + +<p>But Weston adjured him to reply to the accusations with either +confession or denial, and he muttered: "Of course it's all true. I got +in deeper and deeper and there was no way out but to do for Blair. I +began giving the medium things just for fun,—the whole matter seemed to +me such rubbish, and I never dreamed Mr. Crane would take it so +seriously. Then when he did, and when Blair found out I had primed the +medium, and when I wanted his play and he wouldn't let me have it, and +when I wanted his girl,—and when he declared he would expose the medium +business,—I fell for the temptation. That's all."</p> + +<p>He lapsed again into utter dejection and Weston led him away before he +should collapse utterly.</p> + +<p>"Now, Julie, you can have your Mac," Peter went on, smiling at his +sister. "It's too late to-night——"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," declared Penny Wise, "come along, Miss Crane, I'll +take you to him, and let you tell him yourself, and I shouldn't be +surprised if he came back with you."</p> + +<p>The two went off joyfully, leaving Peter to be lionized and petted by +his adoring people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>Madame Parlato had long since disappeared, being allowed to get away +unmolested because of the help she had been.</p> + +<p>Then Peter and his parents had a talk, while Carlotta just sat and +looked at the group, knowing her turn would come. Zizi, too, like a +little <i>dea ex machina</i>, sat, gloating over the outcome of it all.</p> + +<p>Benjamin Crane utterly refused to listen to a word of regret at his +discredited book,—he only laughed happily and declared it was a joke on +himself, and he didn't care what the result might be or what loss he +might suffer in reputation or in pocketbook.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crane said little but she held tight to the hand of her boy, and +lost herself in an oblivion of happiness.</p> + +<p>And then, turning to Carlotta, Peter said, "And you thought I'd never +come back?"</p> + +<p>"Peter," Carly said, "I'm an expert Ouija Boarder. I have the reputation +of making the Board say whatever I want it to. But my own theory is, +that the little pointer always goes straight to the message that the +performer wants. And whenever I tried it alone, and asked it if you'd +come back to me,—it said you would."</p> + +<p>Peter smiled at her, a little quizzically.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Carly, whether you're making that up or whether you mean +it, but it doesn't matter, I did come back,—and I came back to +you,—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> for you. Which, being interpreted, means, that when you're +ready to go home, I'll walk along with you. I'll have time to see the +family here to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Carly smiled happily, and they two "walked along."</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Come Back, by Carolyn Wells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + +***** This file should be named 30868-h.htm or 30868-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/8/6/30868/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Come Back + +Author: Carolyn Wells + +Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #30868] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + + + + +Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced from +scanned images of public domain material from the Google +Print project. + + + + + + + + + +The Come Back + * * * * * +CAROLYN WELLS + + + + + * * * * * + BY CAROLYN WELLS + * * * * * + THE COME BACK + IN THE ONYX LOBBY + THE MAN WHO FELL THROUGH THE EARTH + THE ROOM WITH THE TASSELS + FAULKNER'S FOLLY + THE BRIDE OF A MOMENT + DORIS OF DOBBS' FERRY + THE BOOK OF HUMOROUS VERSE + SUCH NONSENSE! _An Anthology_ + * * * * * + NEW YORK + GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + * * * * * + + + + +THE COME BACK + +BY +CAROLYN WELLS + +_Author of "In the Onyx Lobby," "The Man +Who Fell Through the Earth," Etc._ + + +NEW YORK +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + +COPYRIGHT, 1921, +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE PROPHECY 9 + + II THE LABRADOR WILD 24 + + III THE SNOWSTORM 39 + + IV THE PROPHECY RECALLED 55 + + V MADAMS PARLATO 71 + + VI STRANGE REVELATIONS 87 + + VII THE TOBACCO POUCH 102 + + VIII BLAIR KNOWS 117 + + IX INVESTIGATION 132 + + X EVIDENCE 148 + + XI CARLOTTA AND THE BOARD 163 + + XII WISE AND ZIZI 179 + + XIII "LABRADOR LUCK" 194 + + XIV A PROPHECY FULFILLED 209 + + XV AN INTERVIEW 225 + + XVI ZIZI'S OPPORTUNITY 241 + + XVII THE HEART HELPER 257 + + XVIII THE CONFESSION 273 + + + + +THE COME BACK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +The Prophecy + + +Even when Peter Crane was a baby boy, with eyes the color of the chicory +flowers that grow by the wayside along New England roads, and hair that +rivaled the Blessed Damosel's in being "yellow like ripe corn," he was +of an adventurous disposition. + +His innocent face was never so devoid of guile, his winning smile never +so cherubic as when he remarked that he would "jes' run froo the front +gate a minyit," and the next instant he was out of sight. Far afield his +roving spirit led him, and much scurrying was needed on the part of +nurse or mother to bring him back. + +At four he achieved a pair of most wonderful russet-topped boots,--aye, +even with straps to lift himself over a fence, if a fence came his way. +And these so accentuated and emphasized his world-faring inclinations +that he came to be known as Peter Boots. + +The name stuck, for Peter was always ready to boot it, and all through +his school and college days he led his willing mates wherever he listed. +He stalked forth and they followed; and, as he stopped not for brake and +stayed not for stone, the boys who eagerly trailed Peter Boots became +sturdy fellows. + +And now, at twenty-seven, Peter Boots was more than sturdy. He was tall +and big and strong, and the love of adventure, the dare-devil spirit of +exploration still shone in his chicory blue eyes, and his indomitable +will power was evident in his straight fine mouth and firm jaw. + +He had traveled some, even before the war, and now, comfortably settled +in his chosen niche and civilly engineering his way through the world, +he grasped at vacation seasons because they offered him a chance to don +his boots and be off. + +This year he had a grand plan,--its objective point being nothing short +of Labrador. + +He had read many books of the North lands, but a delightful chance +meeting with a doctor who lived up there gave him a sudden impetus to go +and explore a little for himself. His decision to start was +instantaneous, and there remained but to make the necessary +arrangements. + +For Peter Boots these arrangements consisted merely in getting two +congenial companions, and to them he left all minor details of +paraphernalia and equipment. Not that Peter was lazy or inclined to +shift his burdens to others' shoulders, but he was so engrossed with the +itinerary and calculations of distance, climate and season that he had +no time to engage guides or buy camp outfits. + +But the two men he picked,--and who jumped at the chance,--were more +than willing and perfectly capable of all this, and so all details of +the expedition were carefully looked after. + +There had been opposition, of course. Peter's parents were emphatically +unwilling to let their only son run dangers, all the more fearsome +because only vaguely apprehended. + +But their big boy smiled genially at them and went on with his +calculations. + +His sister, too, pretty Julie, besought him not to go. "You'll get lost +in the ice," she wailed, "and never come back to me--and Carly." + +Now Carly,--otherwise Miss Carlotta Harper--was a disturbing element in +the even tenor of Peter's life, and of late her disturbance had attained +such importance that tucked away in a corner of his big, happy heart was +a cozy, cuddly little notion that when he came back from Labrador he +would take her to embark with him on a certain Great Adventure. + +Perhaps her womanly intuition sensed danger, for Carly joined with +Peter's sister in her entreaties that he spend his vacation nearer home. + +"But I don't want to," stated Peter, with the air of one giving a full +explanation. + +"That settles it," sighed Julie; "what Peter Boots wants is law in this +house." + +"Autocrat! Tyrant! Oppressor!" and Carlotta wrinkled her little nose in +an effort to express scornful disdain. + +"Yes," Peter agreed, with his benignant smile, "despot, demagogue, +dictator, oligarch, lord of the roost and cock of the walk! It's a great +thing to be monarch of all one surveys!" + +"To the surveyor," flouted Carlotta, "but if you knew what the surveyed +think of you!" + +"I'd be all puffed up with pride and vanity, I suppose," Peter nodded +his still golden head, though Time's caressing fingers had burnished the +yellow to a deeper bronze. + +"You'll break mother's heart," suggested Julie, but in a hopelessly +resigned tone. + +"Only the same old break, sister, and it's been cracked and mended so +many times, I'm sure it'll stand another smash." + +"Oh, he's going, and that's all there is about it," said Carlotta with +the air of a fatalist. + +"I'm going," Peter assented, "but that isn't all there is about it. I'm +coming back!" and he looked at the girl with unmistakable intent. + +"Maybe and maybe not," she returned, with crushing carelessness, whether +real or assumed. + +"Yes, indeed, maybe and maybe not!" put in Julie. "You don't know about +the prophecy, Carly! Shall I tell her, Peter?" + +"Tell me, of course," and Miss Harper looked eagerly interested. "Who +prophesied what? and when?" + +"Oh, it was years ago," Julie began, "we met a lot of gypsies, and +mother would have them tell the family fortunes. And one of them said +that Peter would go off on a long journey and that he would die a +terrible death and never come home." + +"Oh," Carly shuddered, "don't tell me any more!" + +"But the more is the best part of it," said Peter, smiling; "you see, +mother was so upset by this direful news, that another gypsy took pity +on her and amended my cruel fate. The second seeress declared that I +must meet the destiny number one had dealt me, but that to mitigate the +family grief, I would return afterwards." + +"As a spook?" cried Carlotta, "how interesting!" + +"Perhaps; but it doesn't interest me at present You see, this trip is +not the fatal one----" + +"How do you know?" from Julie. + +"Oh, it's too soon. That old prophecy isn't fairly ripe yet. Moreover, +I'm not ready for it. I'm going to Labrador,--and I'm coming back,--and +then, if all goes well, perhaps I'll never want to go away again. And if +not,----" he looked at Carly, "I may be glad to take the last and final +trip! But if I go on with the program and return as my own ghost, I'll +lead you girls a dance! I'll haunt you in season and out of season!" + +"Pooh, I'm not afraid," Carly tossed her head; "I've no faith in any of +this spiritist foolery." + +"Don't call it foolery, my child," said a serious voice, as Peter's +father came into the room. + +Benjamin Crane gave the impression of power and gentleness, a fine +combination and rarely seen in its perfection. A man of sixty, he looked +older, for his thick hair was white and his smoothly shaven face was +lined with deep furrows. + +He joined the group of young people, and it was indicative of his nature +that there was no pause in the conversation or appearance of constraint +of any sort. + +"But it is foolery, Mr. Crane," Carlotta defended, "I've tried the Ouija +Board myself, and it's a silly business." + +"Not so silly as to condemn something you know little or nothing about," +Mr. Crane said, in his serious, kindly way. "My dear Carlotta, even +though you don't 'believe in' the supernatural, do try to realize that +your lack of belief doesn't bar the rest of us from having faith in +revelation." + +"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Crane," Carly wasn't a bit offended, "don't +mind me! Believe all you want to. But, do you believe in this 'Gypsy's +Warning' about Peter? That's different, you know, from the usual +claptrap." + +"It's not exactly a question of belief," Mr. Crane said, slowly. "You +will, I am sure, agree that Peter may be killed on some of these wild +and dangerous adventures in which his soul delights. Let us hope the +day is far off, if it must come at all. And as to his spirit's +return,--that is, of course, possible,--to my mind, at least." + +"If possible, then extremely probable," declared Peter, laughing; "I've +just told the girls, Dad, that I'll haunt them like a continuous +performance, if conditions allow. Want me to appear to you, too?" + +"Don't be so flippant, Son. If you die while away from us, and if your +spirit can return and communicate with me, I shall, indeed, be glad to +receive such messages, no matter through what medium." + +"Oh, goodness, gracious!" exclaimed Carlotta; "not through a medium, I +beg of you, Peter! I don't want spook messages that way! I don't mind a +nice little Ouija or Planchette, but a common, blowsy, untidy medium +person,--and they're all like that,--I can't stand for!" + +"Why, you little rascal, what do _you_ know about mediums?" Peter Boots +frowned at her. + +"I went to a _seance_ once,--but, wow! never again!" + +"I should hope not! You stay away from such places, or I won't come home +to you at all,--dead or alive! How would you like that?" + +"Not at all, oh, despot, oligarch, Grand Panjandrum,--or whatever you +call yourself. Please come back, and all will be forgiven." + +It was tea time in the Crane home, and though the home was only a summer +cottage, up Westchester way, yet the big living room, with its +hospitable easy chairs and occasional tables, its willow and chintz, +gave an impression of an English household. It was late in July and, +though warm, it was not sultry, and the breeze coming in at the big +windows was crisp and fresh. + +Mrs. Crane drifted into the room almost at the same moment two men +appeared from outdoors. + +A happy complacency was the chief attribute of Peter's mother, and this +spoke from every smile of her amiable face and every movement of her +plump but still graceful form. + +As Peter adjusted the cushions she took a low willow chair and smiled a +greeting at all, including the newcomers. + +These were Kit Shelby and Gilbert Blair, the two companions of the +Labrador trip. + +They were good-looking, well set-up chaps, quite evidently unable to +talk of anything save the plans for the momentous journey. + +"Got a wonder for a guide," began Shelby, as soon as decent greetings +had been made. "He's just been let loose by Sir Somebody of Somewhere, +and I nailed him. Name o' Joshua,--but we can stand that. He really +knows it all,--without continually proclaiming the fact." + +"I'm thankful that you've a fine guide," murmured Mrs. Crane, in her +satisfied way. "It means so much to me to know that." + +"You're right, Lady Crane," assented young Blair. "And old Peter will +have to obey him, too." + +"Of course I shall," put in Peter. "I always bow to authority, when it's +greater than my own. Oh, won't it all be great! I'm crazy to start. +Think of it, Dad,--we three fellows sitting around a camp fire, smoking +our pipes and spinning yarns of an evening, after a long day's hike over +the ice and snow!" + +"Thought you were going in a canoe," said his sister. + +"Part of the way,--but, later, we abandon the craft and hoof it." + +"Maybe and maybe not," said Shelby. "It all depends on the weather +conditions. But the season is just right, and we'll have good going, one +way or another, I'm sure." + +"You're the surest thing I know, Kit," Gilbert Blair said; "now with no +hint of pessimism, I own up I look for pretty hard lines a good bit of +the time." + +"Calamity Howler!" returned Shelby; "why damp our enthusiasm like that?" + +"Can't damp mine," and Peter beamed with glad anticipation. "Let the +hard lines come if they like. I'm expecting them and expecting to enjoy +them along with the rest." + +"Pollyanna Peter!" chaffed Carlotta; "shan't you mind it if the blizzard +blows down your tent and the dogs run away with your dinner and your +feets give out?" + +"Nixy! I'll set up the tent again, get some more dinner from the larder +and rest my feet for a spell." + +"That's right, boy," said his father, "that's the spirit. But do take +enough provisions and, if they run low, make a dash for home." + +"Just my idea, Dad, exactly. And as Shelby's looking after the +commissariat, and Blair attending to the tents and cooking outfit, +something tells me they'll be top hole. Maybe not such traps as +these----" and Peter nodded toward the elaborate tea service being +brought in and arranged before Mrs. Crane, who was in her element as +hostess. + +"No, you poor boys," she said, "I suppose you'll drink out of horrible +thick china----" + +"Not china at all, ma'am," corrected Blair; "lovely white enamel, +though, with blue edges----" + +"I know!" cried Carlotta, "like our motor lunch-box." + +"Yes, that sort, and not bad, either. Oh, we'll rough it more or less, +but it won't be absolutely primitive,--not by a long shot!" + +"It'll be absolutely perfect," said Peter, dreamily gazing off into +space, and seeing in his mind great white stretches of snowy landscape, +or black, gurgling holes in ice-bound rivers. + +"You are so ridiculous!" declared his sister. "You're a regular Sybarite +at home. You love easy chairs and pillows and fresh flowers all about, +and all that,--then you want to go off where you'll have nothing nice at +all,--not even a laundry!" + +"Right you are, Sis. The Human warious is hard to understand. Come +along, Carly, take me for a walk." + +Rather slowly the girl rose, and the two sauntered forth, across the +wide veranda, across the lawn and down a garden path. Neither spoke +until, coming to a marble bench, they sat down and turned to look into +each other's eyes. + +"Going to say yes before I go, Carly, or after I come back?" + +"After you come back," was the prompt response. + +"Oh, good! You promise to say it _then_?" + +"Well, I don't say how _soon_ after." + +"I'll decide on the soonness. Then I take it we're engaged?" + +"You take it nothing of the sort! You know, Peter Crane, you can't boss +me as you do your own family!" + +"Heaven forbid! Why, dear, I want you to boss me! Our life together will +be one grand boss,--and you can be it!" + +"Don't be silly, I'm in earnest. I couldn't be happy with a dominating, +domineering man." + +"Of course you couldn't. But I assure you I'm not one. You see, I only +dictate in my own family because they like to have me to do so. Mother +would be awfully upset if I didn't tell her what to do. Dad the +same,--although I'm not sure the old dear knows it himself. And as for +Julie,--why she just depends on me. So I naturally gravitate to the +place of Grand Mogul, because I can't help it. But with you, it's +different. You're a whole heap wiser, better and more fit to rule than +I. And if you'll rule me, I'll be greatly obliged,--honest, I will." + +"Oh, you're so absurd, Peter! I don't want to rule, either. I want us to +be equally interested in everything, and have equal say in any matter." + +"All right,--equality goes. I'll race you to see which can be the +equalest. Now, are we engaged?" + +"No, Peter, not till you come back." + +"But I want to kiss you, and I can't, I suppose, until we are engaged. +Oh, can I?" + +"Of course not! Take your hand off my hand." + +"Lordy, can't I even touch your hand?" + +"Not with that ownership grasp! I am afraid of your possessive +qualities, Peter." + +"Meaning just what?" + +"Oh, that if I do give myself to you, you'll own me so--so +emphatically." + +"I sure shall! And then some. Don't imagine, my child, that I'll accept +you with any reservations. You'll be 'mine to the core of your heart, my +beauty'! Bank on that!" + +"I do,--and if I'm yours at all,--it _will_ be that way. But wait till +you come back. There's time enough. I suppose there's no chance for +letters?" + +"No; not after the first few days. We'll be out of reach of mail very +soon." + +"And you're returning?" + +"I want to be home for Christmas. Kit thinks we'll make it, but Blair +is some doubtful. So, look for me when you see me." + +"Alive or dead?" + +"Carly! What made you say that?" + +"I don't know." The girl shuddered and her eyes stared into Peter's. "I +seemed to say it without any volition,--the words just came----" + +"Well, don't let them come again. I don't like it a little bit. I'm +coming home alive, very much alive,--and I'm coming home to claim +you,--remember that." + +"Unless either of us falls in love with some one else. Those girls of +the far North are beautiful, I hear." + +"An Eskimo with a nose ring? No, thank you! My heart is true to Poll! +But don't you go and set your somewhat fickle heart on another man, +'cause if you do, I shall have to kill him, much as I'd regret such a +necessity." + +"My heart isn't fickle! What do you mean?" + +"Just what I say. I think it is. I think my little black-eyed, +rosy-cheeked Carly is quite capable of being on with a new love whether +she's off with the old or not." + +"Oh, Peter," and the black eyes showed moisture, "how cruel you are!" + +"Isn't it so, Carly? Tell me it isn't,--I'll be so glad!" + +But the coquettish glance that answered him was not entirely +reassuring. + +"Anyway," Peter pleaded on, "tell me you like me better than Kit or +Gilbert. Tell me that if I'm a prey to green-eyed jealousy up there in +the camp, at least, I needn't envy either of those chaps." + +"Of course not!" + +"Oh, you torment! Your words are all right,--but your emphasis is a +little too strong. Carly, look me straight in the eyes and tell me you +don't care for either of them!" + +"Either of your eyes?" + +"Silly! Well, yes, then, tell me that!" + +The chicory flower eyes looked into the great, dark ones, and for a +moment there was silence. The blue eyes were sweet and true, and they +burned with a strong, deep lovelight. The eyes that gazed into them fell +a little and seemed unable to meet them squarely. + +"What is it, Carly? What is it, dear?" he begged. + +"Nothing," she said, lightly. "I do l-like you, Peter,--better than any +man I know----" + +"Better than Kit Shelby?" + +"Yes." + +"Better than Gil Blair?" + +"Yes." + +"They're the ones I most feared. And mostly because I didn't want to go +on a trip with a man I'm jealous of! That would be a fine kettle of +fish!" + +"Well, you won't do that. Don't worry about them,--or any one else." + +"Oh, you blessed little girl! Carly, dearest, why can't you say yes, +now? Won't you, Carly,--please." + +The caressing voice was low and gentle, the pleading blue eyes were very +earnest, but Carlotta still shook her head. + +"When you come back," she repeated. + +"All right, then," and Peter's face showed one of its masterful looks. +"I'll accept your decree,--as I can't very well help myself, but just as +sure as you're sitting there, Carly Harper, I'm going to kiss you!" + +And he did; gathering her into his arms with a gentle insistence and +kissing her squarely on her surprised red lips. + +"There!" he said, "I guess you'll remember now that you belong to +me,--whether you call yourself engaged or not! Mad?" + +"Yes," she responded, but the one swift glance she gave him belied her +words. + +"You'll get over it," he said, cheerfully. "I'd like to kiss you again, +though. May I?" + +"When you come back," she said, and Peter waited. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +The Labrador Wild + + +It was late in July before Peter Boots marshaled his merry men and let +himself be marshaled by the guide, Joshua, on the trip of exploration +and recreation. + +A liner took them as far as Newfoundland, and at St. John's, a smaller +steamer, the _Victoria Lake_, received them for their journey farther +North. This ship belonged to a sealing fleet and also carried mails. It +was not especially comfortable, and neither staterooms nor food were of +the best. + +But Peter was discomfort-proof, and his negligence of bothersome details +and happy acceptance of existing conditions set a standard for the +manners and customs of their party. Joshua, who had come to New York +City to meet them, was not, by nature, possessed of the sort of heart +that doeth good like medicine. But under the sunny smile of Peter's blue +eyes, his customary scowl softened to a look of mild wonder at the +effervescent gayety of the man who was yet so efficient and even +hard-working when occasion required it. + +Shelby was a close second in the matter of efficiency. He was a big +chap, not handsome, but good-looking, in a dark, dignified way, and of a +lithe, sinewy strength that enabled him to endure as well as to meet +hardship bravely. + +Not that they looked especially for hardships. Discomfort, even +unpleasantness, they did anticipate, but nothing of more importance than +inclement weather or possible colds or coughs. And against the latter +ills Mrs. Crane had provided both remedies and preventions to such an +extent that some were discarded as excess weight. + +For the necessities of their trip, including as they did, canoe, tent, +blankets, tarpaulins, duffel bags, shooting irons and cooking +utensils,--besides food, were of no small bulk and weight even divided +among four porters. + +And Blair, though possessed of will and energy quite equaling the +others', was less physically fit to stand the hard going. + +It was already August when they were treated to a first sight of the +Labrador. + +"Great Scott!" exclaimed Shelby, "and Shackelton, and Peary,--yes and +old Doc Cook! What an outlook! If those breaking waves were looking for +a stern and rockbound coast to dash on, they missed it when they chose +the New England shore instead of this! I've seen crags and cliffs, I've +climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, but this puts it over all +the earth! How do we get in, anyway?" + +"Great, isn't it?" and Peter lay back in his inadequate little deck +chair and beamed at the desolation he saw. + +For the coast of Labrador is nearly a thousand miles of barren bleakness +and forbidding and foreboding rock wall. After buffeting untold ages of +icy gales and biting storms the bare rocks seem to discourage human +approach and crave only their own black solitude. + +The one softening element was the fog that rode the sea, and now and +then swooped down, hiding the dangerous reefs until the danger was +increased tenfold by the obscurity. + +"Oh, great!" mocked Shelby. "You can have mine. I'm going to stay on the +boat and go back." + +"Yes, you are!" grinned Peter, knowing full well how little importance +to attach to that speech; "inside of a week, you'll be crazy about it." + +"I am now," said Blair, slowly. "Most weird sight I ever saw. The rocks +seem like sentient giants ready to eat each other. Termagant Nature, +unleashed and rampant." + +"Idea all right," said Crane, lazily, "but your verbiage isn't +hand-picked, seems to me." + +"You can put it more poetically, if you like, but it's the thing itself +that gets me, not the sand-papered description of it." + +"Nobody wants you to sand-paper it, but you ought to hew to the line a +little more nearly----" + +"Lines be bothered! Free verse is the thing for this place!" + +"I want free verse and I want fresh air," bantered Peter, "and Lasca, +down by the Brandywine,--or wherever it was that Friend Lasca hung out." + +"You're harking back to your school days and Friday afternoon +declamation," put in Shelby, "and Lasca was down by the Rio Grande." + +"Only Alaska isn't down there at all," Blair informed them, quite +seriously, and the others roared. + + * * * * * + +After delays, changes and transfers made necessary by the uncertainties +of Labrador travel, they came at last to Hamilton Inlet, and the little +steamer approached the trading post at Rigolet. + +"Reminds me of Hamilton Harbor, Bermuda," observed Shelby, shivering as +he drew his furs round him. + +"Oh, how can you!" exclaimed Blair; "that heavenly Paradise of a +place,--and this!" + +"But you'd rather be here?" and Crane shook a warning fist at him. + +"Yes,--oh, yes! This is the life!" and if Blair wasn't quite sincere he +gave a fair imitation of telling the truth. + +"Will you look at the dogs!" cried Crane. "I didn't know there were so +many in the world!" + +The big Eskimo dogs were prowling about, growling a little, and +appearing anything but friendly. Not even to sunny-faced and +kindly-voiced Peter Boots did they respond, but snarled and pawed the +ground until Joshua advised Crane to let them alone. + +"They're mighty good things to keep away from," the guide informed, and +his advice was taken. + +"I'm glad we have a trusty canoe instead of those villainous looking +creatures," Blair admitted, and when, later on, they heard tales of the +brutality and treachery of the pack dogs, the others agreed. + +At Rigolet final arrangements were decided on and last purchases made +for the dash into the wilds. + +Peter Boots, in his element, was as excited and pleased as a child with +a new toy. + +"Here I am, where I've longed to be!" he exulted; "at least, I'm on my +way. Buck up, you fellows, and enjoy yourselves, or you'll answer to me +why not!" + +"I'm for it," Kit Shelby cried; "I hated that dinky little old steamer, +but now we're ashore in this live wire of a place, I'm as excited and +glad as anybody. I say, the mail from England comes every year! Think of +that!" + +"Once a year!" wondered Blair. + +"Yep; the good ship _Pelican_ brought it yesterday, and it's due again +next summer! Up and coming, this place, I tell you!" + +"It nothing means to us," said Crane, calmly; "I'm expecting no +valentines from England myself, and we'll be back home before mails from +the States get around again." + +"And, moreover," said Shelby, who had been acquiring information by +various means, "old Captain Whiskers, forninst, says that we're bound to +get lost, strayed and stolen if we go the route we've planned." + +"That's our route, then!" Peter said, satisfiedly; "they always prophesy +all sorts of dismal fates, and, like dreams, they go by contraries. +'Fraid, boys!" + +He extricated himself from the onslaught this speech brought and then +all set about getting the outfit into shape for the start. + +Pounds and pounds of flour, bacon, lard, pea meal, tea, coffee, rice, +tobacco and other necessaries were packed and stowed and maneuvered by +the capable Joshua, before whose superior judgment Peter Boots had to +bow. + +Some natives were hired to help carry things that were to be cached +against the return trip, and three tired but happy men went to rest for +their last night beneath a real roof for many weeks. + +Next morning their happiness was even greater and their spirits higher, +for the day was clear and perfect, the air full of exhilarating ozone +and the golden sunlight and deep blue sky seemed to promise a fair trip +and a safe return. + +Gayly they started off, and gayly they continued, save when the rain +poured unpleasantly, or the swarms of Labrador flies attacked them or +steep banks or swift rapids made portage difficult. + +However as no threats or persuasions could induce Joshua to travel in +the rain, there were enforced rests that helped in the long run. + +Another trial was the midday heat. Though the temperature might be at +the freezing point at night, by noon it would buoyantly rise to ninety +degrees, and the sudden changes made for colds and coughs, that were not +easily cured by Mrs. Crane's nostrums. + +"Fortunes of war," said Peter, serenely, and Shelby responded, "If +that's what they are, I'm a regular profiteer!" + +Days went by, the hours filled with alternate joy and woe, but accepted +philosophically by willing hearts who had already learned to love the +vicissitudes of the wild. + +One morning a portage route was of necessity winding and rough. Not as +much as usual could be carried by any of them and two or three trips of +two miles must be made by each. + +Joshua arranged the loads to weigh about seventy pounds each, but these +became tiresome after a time. The work took all day, and when toward +sunset camp was made and the tired pleasure seekers sought rest, each +was far more exhausted than he was willing to admit. + +"Had enough?" asked Peter, smiling. "Turn back any time you fellows say. +Want to quit?" + +"Quit! Never!" declared Shelby. "Go home when you like, or stay as long +as you please, but no quitting!" + +"It's goin' be nice now," put in Joshua, who was always sensitive to +any discontent with his beloved North land. "Nice fishin', nice +sleepin',--oh, yes!" + +And there was. Rest that night on couches of spruce branches, that +rocked like a cradle, and smelled like Araby the Blest, more than knit +up the raveled sleeve of the hard day before. + +And when they fished in a small, rocky stream, for heaven sent trout, +contentment could go no further. Unless it might have been when later +they ate the same trout, cooked to a turn by the resourceful Joshua, and +then, lounging at ease before a camp-fire that met all traditions, they +smoked and talked or were silent as the spirit moved. + +The black firs showed gaunt against the sky; the stars came out in +twinkling myriads and the dash and roar of the river was an +accompaniment to their desultory chat. + +"If I were a poet," Blair said, "I'd quote poetry about now." + +"Your own, for choice?" asked Shelby, casually. + +"You _are_ a poet, Gil," said Peter. "I've noticed it all the way along. +You don't have to lisp in numbers to be a poet. You just have to----" + +"Well, to what?" asked Blair, as Peter paused. + +"Why, you just have to want to recite poetry." + +"Yes, that's it," put in Shelby, quickly; "understand, Gilbert, dear, +you don't have to recite it, you know, only want to recite it. If you +obey your impulse,--you're no poet at all." + +"I'll restrain the impulse then,--but it's hard--hard!" + +"Oh, go ahead," laughed Kit, "if it's as hard as all that! I'll bet it's +highbrow stuff you want to get out of your system!" + +"Yes, it is. In fact it's Browning." + +"Oh, I don't mind him. Fire away." + +"Only this bit: + + "You're my friend; + What a thing friendship is, world without end. + How it gives the heart and the senses a stir-up, + As if somebody broached you a glorious runlet----" + +"That'll do," laughed Peter. "That's far enough. And you didn't say it +quite right, any way." + +"No matter," said Blair, earnestly; "I mean the thing. Without any +palaver, we three fellows are friends,--and I'm glad of it. That's all." + +"Thank you very much," said Shelby, "for my share. And old Pete is +fairly overflowing with appreciation,--I see it in his baby-blue +eyes----" + +"I'll baby you!" said Peter, with a ferocious smile. "Yes, old Gilbert, +we're friends, or I shouldn't have picked us as the fittest for this +trip." + +"Good you did, for the fittest have the reputation of surviving." + +"Let up on the croaks," Peter spoke abruptly. "Have you noticed any +fearful dangers, that you apprehend non-survival of them?" + +"No; but----" + +"But nothing! Now, Blairsy, if you're in thoughtful mood, let's go on +with that plot we started yesterday." + +"What plot?' asked Shelby. + +"Oh, a great motive for a story or play. Setting up here in the Labrador +wilds and----" + +Shelby yawned. "Mind if I doze off?" he said; "this fire is +soporific----" + +"Don't mind a bit," returned Peter gayly; "rather you would, then Gil +and I can maudle on as we like." + +And they did. Both were of a literary turn, and though they had achieved +nothing of importance as yet, both hoped to write sooner or later. + +"A story," Peter said, "maybe a book, but more likely a short story, +with a real O. Henry punch." + +"H'mph!" came in a disdainful grunt from the dozing Shelby. + +"You keep still, old lowbrow," advised Peter. "Don't sniff at your +betters. There's a great little old plot here, and we're going to make a +good thing of it and push it along." + +"Push away," and Shelby rolled himself over and dozed again. + +"Where's Joshua?" asked Crane, later, as, the talk over, they prepared +to bunk on their evergreen boughs. + +"Haven't seen him since supper," said Shelby, sitting up and rubbing his +eyes. "Queer, isn't it?" + +Queer it surely was, and more so, as time went by and they could find no +trace of their guide. + +"He can't be lost," said Kit; "he's too good a scout for that." + +"He can't have deserted us," declared Peter. "He's too good a friend for +that! He'll no more desert us than we'd desert one another." + +"Well, he's missing anyway," Blair said, undeniably; "then something +must have happened. Could he be caught in a trap?" + +"Not he! he's used to them about. No, he's had an accident, I think." +Peter's eyes were anxious and his voice told of a fear of some real +disaster. + +The dusk fell early and though only about nine o'clock, it was as dark +as midnight. Clouds had obscured the stars, and only the firelight +relieved the black darkness. + +But after an hour's worriment and distress on the part of the three men +the guide returned. He looked a little shame-faced, and was disinclined +to reply to their questions. + +"Come, now, Joshua, own up," directed Peter; "I see by your eyes you've +been up to mischief. Out with it!" + +"I--I got lost!" was the astonishing reply, and they all burst into +laughter. More at the rueful countenance, however, than at the news, for +it was a serious matter. + +"You, a guide, lost!" exclaimed Shelby. "How did it happen?" + +"Dunno. Jest somehow couldn't find the way." + +"Hadn't you a compass?" + +"No, sir; I got sort of turned around like,--and I went a long hike the +wrong way." + +Simply enough, to be sure, but apparently it was only good fortune that +had made him find at last the road home to camp. + +Light-hearted Peter dismissed the whole affair with a "Look out after +this; and always carry a compass or take one of us boys along," and then +he sought his fragrant, if not altogether downy couch. + +Blair, too, gave the episode little thought, but to Shelby it seemed +more important. If a hardened guide could get lost as easily as that, it +might happen to any of them. And a compass was not a sure safeguard. A +man could wander round and round without finding a fairly nearby camp. +Shelby was a few years older than the other two, and of a far more +prudent nature. He had no dare-devil instincts, and not an overweening +love of adventure. He was enjoying his trip because of the outdoor life +and wildwood sports, but as for real adventure, he was content to omit +it. Not from fear--Kit Shelby was as brave as any,--but he saw no sense +in taking unnecessary risks. + +While risks were as the breath of life to Peter Boots. Indeed, he was +sighing because the conditions of modern camping ways and the efficiency +of the guide left little or no chance for risk of life or limb. + +He didn't by any means want to lose life or limb, but he was not at all +unwilling to risk them pretty desperately. And he found no opportunity. +The days were pleasantly taken up with fishing, shooting, moving on, +setting up and taking down camp, and all the expected routine of a +mountain expedition; but, so far, there had been nothing unusual or even +uncomfortable to any great degree. + +The next day brought a fearful storm, with gales and sleet and driving +rain and the temperature dropped many degrees. + +The party experienced their first really cold weather, and though it +depressed the others Peter seemed to revel in it. + +The tent was practically a prison, and an uncomfortable one, for the +wind was terrific and the squalls became hourly more menacing. + +Shelby was quiet, by reason of a sore throat, and Blair was quiet with a +silence that was almost sulky. + +Not quite though, for irrepressible Peter kept the crowd good-natured, +by the simple process of making jokes and laughing at them himself, so +contagiously, that all were forced to join in. + +But at last he tired of that, and announced that he was going to write +letters. + +"Do," said Shelby, "and hurry up with them. The postman will be along +any minute now." + +Peter grinned, and really set himself to work with paper and pencil. + +"I know what you're doing," said Blair; "you're beginning our story." + +"I'm not, but that isn't half a bad idea. Let's start in, Gil. We can +plan it and make up names and things----" + +"Why can't you really write it?" asked Shelby. "I should think it would +be the psychological moment. Isn't it to be all about the storms and +other indigenous delights of Labrador?" + +"You take that tone and I'll pitch you out into the indigenous +delights," threatened Peter. "Come on, Gilbert, let's block out the +backbone of the yarn right now." + +They set to work, and by dint of much discussing, disagreeing, +ballyragging and bulldozing each other, they did make a fair start. + +"What's the heroine like?" asked Shelby, beginning to be interested. + +"Like Carly Harper," said Blair promptly. + +"Not the leastest, littlest mite like Carly Harper," said Peter, his +blue eyes hardening with determination. + +"Why not?" demanded Blair, who cared little what the heroine was like; +but who objected to contradiction without reason. + +"Because I say not," returned Peter, impatiently. "The heroine is a +little rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired doll. She has blue eyes,--something +like mine,--and a saucy, turn-up nose, and a dimple in her left cheek." + +"A peach," said Shelby, "but no sort of a heroine for that yarn you two +fellows are spinning. I'm no author, but I'm an architect, and I can see +the incongruity." + +"If you know so much, write it yourself," said Peter, but not pettishly. +"If I'm doing it, I create my own heroine or I quit." + +"Oh, don't quit," begged Blair. "We're just getting a good start. Have +the treacle and taffy heroine if you like, only keep on." + +His point won, Peter did keep on, and a fair bit of work was +accomplished. For the first time it began to seem as if the two authors +would really produce something worth while. + +"Not likely," Peter said, as they talked this over. "I'm no sort of a +collaborator,--I'm too set in my ways. If I can't have it the way I want +it, I can't do it at all." + +"But you can have your own way in details," said Blair, musingly. "They +don't matter much. Give me the swing of the plot and let me plan the +climaxes, and I care not who makes the laws for the heroine's +complexion." + +"Well, I'm for a run in the rain," said Peter. "I've worked my brain +into a tangled snarl, and I must go out and clear it out." + +He shook himself into his storm togs, and as no one cared to go with +him, he started off alone. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +The Snowstorm + + +Given three good-natured young men, a satisfactory guide, a stretch of +Labrador wild, and no cares of any sort, it is not surprising that the +happy days and weeks followed one another into the maw of Time, until +the date of departure for home drew near. + +"I'd like to stay here forever," declared Blair, as he filled his pipe +and stretched luxuriously before the fire. "Civilization has lost all +charm for me." + +"Go away with you!" scoffed Peter Boots, "that's a fine, ambitious +spirit to show, and you a rising young author,--or about to become one." + +"Not unless you duff in and help, old chap. Our book hangs on your +efforts, I've pretty well done my part of it." + +"And I'll do mine, don't worry. I'm a procrastinator and a put-offer, +but I'll get there! Now, cut out the book till we get home. These last +few days up here must be given over to Nature as she is snowed under!" + +It was the last week in September, but snow-squalls were frequent, +winds were high and rains were cold and sleety. + +Joshua had been urging the homeward journey for several days, but the +men were loath to go, until now, a more severe bit of weather had +persuaded them. Even as they sat round the fire, with storm coats drawn +high up around their ears, the sleet-squalls drove against their faces +and the gale howled among the snowy trees. + +Peter loved the life, the outdoor days and tented nights, but his mind +once made up to leave, his volatile spirit turned toward home. + +"A couple of days more staving round in the snowdrifts and I'll be +ready," he announced, and Joshua began to pack up. + +The guide growled a little at the reluctance of his party to start. + +"You men wait too long, and you'll be sorry," he warned. "This wind +won't only let up for a little spell at a time,--mostly it'll blow like +somethin' let loose! And if a big snow comes,--and it's likely +to,--we'll be in a fix." + +"Now, now, old man," began Shelby, "don't growl. We've been a pretty +good sort, haven't we? We're going home, aren't we? Why croak at us?" + +"That's all right, sir, but meantime this Northwest wind keeps up its +force, and--well, it means business." + +"All right, we'll get the better of its business deal," prophesied +Peter, and he and Blair went off for a hike. + +As they started, the sun shone clear, and though the temperature was +below thirty, the two men strode along, happy with sheer physical joy of +living. + +"This is the life!" said Peter, flapping his arms, and watching his +breath congeal in frosty clouds. + +"Yes," Blair agreed, "to a certain point----" + +"Freezing point?" + +"I guess that's right! I like it all as well as you do, but it's nicest +when the sun shines. And by Jiminy, she's clouding over again!" + +Clouds meant cold,--a raw, penetrating chill that seemed to strike to +the marrow, and the pair were glad to turn back toward camp. + +"What do you think most about, when you think of home?" asked Blair, +idly. + +"Carly Harper," replied Peter, speaking from the fullness of his heart. + +"Good Lord! So do I!" exclaimed Blair, his tone that of surprise only. + +Peter turned and looked at him. "Not a chance for you, old chap," he +said. "Little Carly is waiting for me. Yeo, ho, lads, ho,--Yeo, ho!" + +"Oh, I say! Really?" Blair's consternation was almost comic. + +"Yes, sir! Fair warning,--keep off!" + +"Engaged?" + +"Same as." + +"Meaning she hasn't said a positive yes?" + +"Meaning that, if you like." + +"Then it's fair field and no favor! We're too good friends to +misunderstand, but let's call it a case of may the best man win." + +"All right, but I'll win and you can be best man at the wedding, how's +that?" Peter's eyes shone with good humor, and his happy face left Blair +little room for doubt as to Peter's own view of the case. What Carly +herself thought was another matter. + +But the two were too good friends to quarrel, and moreover, each knew +the other too well to mistrust him for a minute. It would, indeed, be a +fair field where they were concerned. + +"I didn't know you'd gone so far," said Blair, ruefully, "of course, +there's no chance for me." + +"I hope not," returned Peter, cheerfully. "But when we get back we'll +soon find out." + +"Perhaps find out that she's 'gone with a handsomer man,'" suggested +Blair. + +"Not impossible. I suppose there are such." + +But a disinterested observer, looking at Peter's fine, strong face, with +its radiant coloring, brought out by the sharp air, might not have +agreed. + +And then conversation became abstract, for the wind rose to a piercing +gale and it was all they could do to keep their balance and fight their +way along. + + * * * * * + +"I said this here wind was bound to ease up some time and it has," said +Joshua, with decided satisfaction, the morning of the start for home. +"We ought to make good goin' to-day, and maybe get ahead of our own +schedule." + +"That's the trick," said Shelby, "always get ahead of your own schedule, +and you're bound to succeed. Come on, Peter, here we go." + +The leave-taking was a bit silent, for all three had become attached to +the camp, and they gave long farewell glances backward. + +Then off they went, and throwing sentiment aside, turned their thoughts +and their talk to the coming journey. + +For home was yet a long way off. Many days' traveling before they +reached the mail boat and then many more before they could lift New York +Harbor. + +"And I'm glad of it," declared Peter. "The longer we are on the home +stretch, the better I'll be pleased." + +"Granting we don't miss the boat," added Blair. "When I start out I want +to arrive." + +It was about three days later that a big storm set in. Relentlessly it +blew and snowed and the gales were almost unbreastable. + +"Don't dare stop," said Joshua, in his usual laconic way; "the winter's +set in, and any day may be worse'n the day before. Old Merk is down to +twenty-four, and we want to peg ahead,--that's what we want to do." + +They did,--by day,--and by night they enjoyed the rest and warmth of +camp, but still, Joshua urged them ahead continually. + +He parceled out longer days and shorter nights, until even strong Peter +began to feel the strain. + +Shelby was of a wiry sort, and stood hard going well; Blair was a +patient, plodding nature and wouldn't have complained if he had dropped +in his tracks; but Peter was impulsive and impatient, and he growled +frankly. + +"We'll get there, Eli," he said to the guide; "don't hustle us so." + +"Got to do it, Mr. Crane. I know more about this here winter that's +closing in on us, than you do. It's a bit early, but it's sure!" + +So on they went, through snow that was wet and heavy, through icy sleet +that stung and cut their faces, through roaring winds that choked their +lungs, but full of indomitable courage and perseverance and of +unimpaired good nature. + +And yet a week of this traveling at last began to tell on their +_morale_. Not that they grew testy or irritable, but the silences were +longer, the repartee less gay, and even buoyant Peter's spirits drooped +a little. + +Joshua then took a turn as comforter. + +"The worst'll soon be over," he reassured them. "Two days will get us to +Big Lake, and once we finish that, we'll be well on our way." + +So on they pushed, heavily laden, traveling slowly, but all well and +sound in wind and limb. + +It was the middle of October, when a bright sunny day beamed on them and +their spirits rose in consequence. + +But Joshua did not smile. "Weather breeder," he said, laconically, and +looked gloomy. + +The others knew better than to call him a pessimist, for when Joshua +predicted weather, it came. + +And come it did. Not a squall; there was little if any wind, but a +snowfall. A steady, straight down snow that was so thick, so dense, they +could scarce see one another's forms. + +"Keep a-going," directed Joshua; "and for the land's sake, don't get far +apart. Stay close together, single trail, and close!" + +Thus they went on, the guide first, then Shelby, then Blair, then Peter. +There was no reason for the order they took, it merely happened that it +was so. + +They kept close, as directed, but the going was hard. If one stumbled, +one must recover quickly and hasten ahead not to lose sight of the +others. + +And the snow continued. Soft, white, feathery flakes, more and more +thickly falling every moment. Joshua plowed ahead, the others followed, +and each had all he could do to keep his eyes clear enough to see the +man in front. + +Which is how it happened that when Peter stumbled and fell, and found +himself unable to rise, the others had no knowledge of it. + +As the big man went down, he essayed to rise quickly, but his right leg +refused to move. + +"Broken!" he said to himself, as one noting a trivial occurrence. +"Queer, to break a leg, falling in a bed of soft snow!" + +But that was exactly what he had done, and realizing it, he set up a +yell that would have made a North American Indian envy its force and +volume. + +But for all the good it did, it might as well have been a whisper. The +wind, though not violent, was against him, and carried the sound away +from the plodding travelers. His friends could not hear it. Not looking +back, as indeed, they had no thought of doing, they did not miss their +fallen comrade and on they toiled, ignorant of the fact that they were +three instead of four now. + +And Peter,--big, strong Peter Crane,--brave, intrepid Peter Boots,--sat +there in the furious snowstorm, unable to rise, but with brain and mind +vividly alive to what had happened. + +Quick of thought, always, he now traced with lightning rapidity, just +what the future held for him--and such a short future, at +that--unless---- + +His only hope lay in his lung power. + +He yelled, screamed, whistled, hooted, and put all of his strength and +nerve force in his desperate efforts to reach the ears of his comrades. + +But it was impossible. The cruel wind drove his voice away from those it +was meant to reach, the snowflakes filled his open mouth as he shouted; +and as hope failed, strength failed and Peter faced his fate. + +Strong, able-bodied, save for the broken leg, he tried to crawl along. +The result was pitiful, for he merely floundered in the deep mass of +soft whiteness. His share of the luggage was heavy packs, nothing of +which he could make a flag of distress or even build a fire. He felt for +his matches, and lighting a cigarette, waved it aloft, almost smiling at +his tiny beacon. + +Then came despair. His mind seemed to grow more alert as his body was +overcome by the cold. His blood boiled, even as it froze in his veins. +He felt abnormally acute of intellect, and plead with himself to think +of something,--to invent something that would save his life. + +Yet he knew there was no hope. The fast-falling snow obliterated all +tracks almost instantly. Even though the others missed him, they could +never find him, and,--this thought struck a new chill through his +veins,--in a short time the snowfall would even obliterate him! + +What a death! Helpless; unable even to meet it standing, he must lie +there, and let the snow bury him alive! + +He could maintain a half-sitting posture,--but what use? Why not lie +down flat and get it over quickly? Yet he must hold on as long as +possible, for the men might come back,--he began to think what they +would do--but, he was sure they would not miss him until too late to do +anything. If the snow would only let up. It was such a pity to have his +whereabouts hidden by a foolish fall of snow! As Peter grew colder he +grew calmer. His senses mercifully became numbed at last, and as the +actual moment of his freezing to death came nearer and nearer, he cared +less and less. A state of coma is a blessing to many dying men, and into +this state Peter gently drifted, even as the snow drifted over and +covered his stiff, silent form. + + * * * * * + +And his friends trudged on; not that it could be called +trudging,--rather, they plodded, stumbled, pitched, fought and merely +achieved progress by blindly plunging ahead. + +It was nearly a half hour after Peter's fall that Blair, accidentally +turned round by a gust of wind, called out an exasperated "Halloo!" +which gained no response. + +"Halloo!" he repeated, "Peter! how goes it?" + +Still no return call, and Blair called to those ahead. + +They turned, and, huddling together in the storm, they looked at one +another with scared faces. + +"I warned you to keep close together," began Joshua, but forbore to +chide, as he saw the dumb agony in the eyes of the other two men. + +"Turn back," said Shelby, "and quickly. How long do you suppose he has +been gone? Has he missed the track? What happened, Joshua?" + +"He must have fallen," the guide replied. "Or maybe just strayed off, +blinded by the snow, and he's wandering around yet. He has a compass and +he knows where to head for. Small use our trying to turn back and find +him. He's 'way off by this time,--or, maybe, he ain't. Maybe he's close +behind,--we couldn't see him ten yards off in this snow." + +"I never saw such a thickness of white!" exclaimed Blair. "I've heard +that when snow is so white and feathery, it doesn't last long." + +"This snow does," returned Joshua, "and I tell you, Mr. Shelby, there's +no use turning back. We'd just waste our time,--maybe our lives----" + +"But, man, we can't go without Crane!" Shelby cried. "I won't go on and +leave him to his fate!" + +"'Tain't likely he's in any real danger," said Joshua, almost believing +his own statement. "If it was one of you two, now, I'd feel more +alarmed. But Mr. Crane,--he's got a head on him, and a compass, and he +knows the route we're taking,--he went over it with me before we +started. Lord knows I'd be the first one to go to his rescue, if it was +rescue he needed, but I don't think it is." + +"Rescue or not," said Blair, "I will not go on without Peter. You two do +what you like. I'm going to turn back and hunt for him." + +"So am I," declared Shelby, and the two turned to face the backward +trail. + +"All foolishness," muttered Joshua, "but of course, I'll go along." + +It was all foolishness, there was no doubt of that. The snow had covered +all signs of their own tracks, there was no road to follow, no landmarks +to go by. Though Joshua had pursued his route by compass, he could not +retrace it surely enough to find a lost man. + +However, they persisted; they dashed at snow-covered mounds only to find +them hummocks or rocks. They hallooed and shouted; they stared into the +snowy distance, hoping to discern smoke; but though their big, strong +Peter was less than half a mile away from them, they could get no hint +of his presence. + +Night came on. They built their camp fire of enormous dimensions, hoping +against hope that it might attract the lost man. + +None slept, save for a few fitful dozes from sheer exhaustion and grief. +Joshua stolidly insisted that Peter was undoubtedly all right, and +though they could scarcely believe it, this comforted the other two. + +Next morning they held council. Joshua was all for going on and giving +up the search for Crane. + +Blair, too, felt it a useless waste of time to remain, but Shelby begged +for a few hours. + +"If the storm abates just a little----" he began. + +"It won't," declared Joshua. "It's a little mite less windy but this +snowfall's only just begun. It won't quit for days,--lessen it turns to +rain,--and then the goin''ll be a heap worse." + +It didn't seem as if the going could be much worse. Already the men had +difficulty in moving because of their wet, half-frozen clothing. +Available wood was buried under the snow, their strength was becoming +impaired, and all things pointed to even worse weather conditions. + +Reluctantly Shelby and Blair agreed to Joshua's plans, realizing that +Peter might be all right and on his homeward journey, and further delay +might result in their own loss of life. For the outlook was menacing, +and Joshua's knowledge and advice were sincere and authoritative. + +And still it snowed. Steadily, persistently, uninterruptedly. There +seemed a permanency about that soft, downward moving mass that foreboded +danger and defeat to any one who remained to dare it further. + +And so they started again, half glad to go, half unwilling to leave. It +was the terrible uncertainty that told on them. They shrank from facing +the thought of what it would mean if they didn't find Peter, and forced +themselves to believe that they would meet him. + +Their objective point was a trapper's log house on the shore of the +lake. + +They reached it, tired, footsore, but full of hope for good news. A +quick glance round the tiny interior, consisting of but two rooms, +showed no smiling-faced Peter. + +A few words from Joshua to the trappers gave no cause for rejoicing, and +further conversation and explanation revealed the fact that the +experienced trappers had no doubt as to Peter's fate. + +Nor did they blame Joshua in any way. Had he stayed for a longer search, +they averred, there would have been four dead men instead of one. + +And then both Shelby and Blair realized that Joshua's expressed +hopefulness of finding Peter safe at the end of their journey was merely +by way of urging them to move on, knowing the result if they did not. + +They also realized that he was right. The opinions and assertions of the +experienced trappers could not be gainsaid. The two came to know that +there was but one fate that could have overtaken their comrade and that +there was no hope possible. + +If Shelby had a slight feeling that Blair ought to have looked back +oftener, he gave it no voice, for he knew he himself had never looked +back with any idea of watching over Blair. To be sure the last one of +the four was in the most dangerous position, but Peter had come last by +mere chance, and no one had given that point a thought. + +They surmised something must have disabled him. Perhaps a cramp or a +fainting spell of exhaustion. But it was necessarily only surmise, and +one theory was as tenable as another. + +Long parleys were held by Blair and Shelby as to what was best to be +done. It proved to be impossible to persuade any one to start on a +search for the body of Crane. The winter had set in and it was a +hopeless task to undertake in the snows of the wild. No, they were told, +not until March at the earliest, could a search be undertaken, and there +was small chance of finding the body until later spring melted the snow. +It was to be an especially bad winter, all agreed, and no pleas, bribes +or threats of the men could move the natives from their decision. + +Then, they debated, should they go home, or wait till spring? + +The latter plan seemed foolish, for it was now nearly November and to +wait there idly for five or six months was appalling. Moreover, it +seemed their duty to go home and report Peter's loss to his father, even +if they returned in the spring to search for the body of their chum. + +The last boat left for Newfoundland the middle of November, and they +concluded that if there was no news of Peter by that time they would +sail on it. "I feel cowardly to go," said Shelby, whose brain was weary, +working out the problem of duty. "Yet, why stay?" + +"It's right to go," Blair said, gravely. "You see, Mr. Crane must be +_told_,--not written to." + +"One of us might go,--and one stay," Shelby suggested. + +"No use in that," Blair said, after a moment's consideration; "the +remaining one couldn't do anything." + +"You men talk foolishness," said Joshua, gravely. "Mr. Peter Crane is by +this time buried under eight feet of snow. You can do nothing. You'd +both better go home." + +So they went + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +The Prophecy Recalled + + +The steamer from Newfoundland that brought Shelby and Blair to New York +arrived during Christmas week. + +The two men, however, were far from feeling holiday cheer as they +reached the wharf and faced the hard trial of telling Mr. and Mrs. Crane +of their son's death. + +But it had to be done, and they felt it their duty to lose no time in +performing the sad errand. + +No one met them at the steamer, for its hour of arrival was uncertain +and they had discouraged their friends from the attempt. + +Indeed only telegrams from Newfoundland had apprised any one of their +arrival, for letters would have come by the same boat they came +themselves. + +"Let's go straight to the Cranes' and get it over," said Blair; with a +sigh. "I dread the ordeal." + +"So do I," Shelby confessed. "I wish we could see Mr. Crane alone, +first." + +"We must do that, of course. It's only eight o'clock, and we're ready to +start now. Come ahead." + +They sent their luggage to their homes and took a taxi for the Crane +town house, on upper Park Avenue. + +By good fortune, Mr. Crane was at home and received them in his library. +They had asked to see him alone, giving no names. + +"My stars, if it isn't the wanderers returned!" exclaimed their host, as +he entered and saw the two. "Where's my boy? Hiding behind the window +curtain?" + +But the expression on his visitors' faces suddenly checked his speech, +and turning pale, Benjamin Crane dropped into the nearest chair. + +"What is it?" he whispered, in a shaking voice. "I know it's bad news. +Is Peter----" + +"Yes," said Shelby, gently, but feeling that the shortest statement was +most merciful. "The Labrador got him." + +By a strange locution, Labrador, as we call it, is spoken of up there as +The Labrador, and the phrase gives a sinister sound to the name. It +personifies it, and makes it seem like a living menace, a sentient +danger. + +"Tell me about it," said Benjamin Crane, and his tense, strained voice +told more of his grief than any outburst could have done. + + * * * * * + +"Lost in the snow! My little Peter Boots----" he said, after he had +listened in silence to their broken recital. "Tell me more," he urged, +and eagerly drank in any details they could give him of the tragedy and +also of the doings of the party before that last, fatal day. + +Blair looked at him in secret amazement. How could the man take it so +calmly? But Shelby, a deeper student of human character, understood how +the fearful shock of tragedy had stunned the loving father-heart. Slowly +and quietly, Shelby related many incidents of the trip, drew word +pictures of Peter in his gayest moods, told tales of his courage, +bravery and unfailing good spirits. + +But, though these things interested Crane and held his attention, there +was no way to lessen the poignant sorrow of the last story,--the account +of the terrible storm and the awful fate of Peter. + +Shelby broke down, and Blair finished, with a few broken sentences. + +The deep grief of the two, the sincere love of Peter and sorrow at his +death proved better than protestations that they had done all mortal +effort could do. + +"I am not sure, sir," Shelby said, finally, "that we acted wisely, but +it seemed the only course to take. We could not persuade any one to go +for us or with us in search of Peter's body, until March at the +earliest. To go alone, was mere suicide, and though I was tempted to do +even that, rather than to return without him, it would not have been +allowed." + +"Oh, I understand perfectly," Crane said, quickly, "I wouldn't have had +you do otherwise than just as you did. There was no use trying the +impossible." + +"But we will return in March----" began Blair. + +"Perhaps," said Crane, a little preoccupied in manner, "or I will send a +search party myself. There's no reason you boys should go." + +This was a real relief, for though more than willing, the two men were +far from anxious to undertake the gruesome errand. + +"And now," their host went on, "if you agree, I'll send for Mrs. Crane. +At first, I thought I'd rather tell her the news when we were by +ourselves,--but, I know there are questions she will want to ask you, +things that I might not think of,--and I know you'll be willing to +answer her." + +All unconscious of the scene awaiting her, Mrs. Crane came into the +room. + +A bewildered look on her sweet, placid face showed her inability to +grasp the situation quickly. + +Then, "Why, boys," she cried, "when did you come home? Where's Peter?" + +To the others' relief Benjamin Crane told his wife of their mutual loss. +Very gently he told her, very lovingly he held her hand and comforted +her crushed and breaking heart. Shelby and Blair instinctively turned +aside from the pitiful scene and waited to be again addressed. + +At length Mrs. Crane turned her tear-stained face to them. Not so calm +as her husband, she begged for details, then she wept and sobbed so +hysterically she could scarcely hear them. Her thoughts flew back to the +years when Peter was a lad, a child, a baby,--and her talk of him became +almost incoherent. + +"There, there, dear," Benjamin Crane said, smoothing her hair, "try to +be quieter,--you will make yourself ill. Perhaps, boys, you'd better go +now, and come round again to-morrow evening." + +"No, no!" cried Mrs. Crane; "stay longer,--tell me more. Tell me +everything he said or did,--all the time you were gone. Did he know he +was going to die?" + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Crane," Shelby assured her. "It was an accident, you see. +The storm was beyond anything you can imagine. The wind was not only icy +and cutting, but of a sharp viciousness that made it impossible to hear +or to see. Almost impossible to walk. We merely struggled blindly +against it,--_against_ it, you understand, so that if Peter, who was +behind, had called out, we could not have heard him." + +"Why was he last?" demanded Mrs. Crane. + +"It happened so," replied Shelby. "I've tried hard to think if we were +to blame for that,--but I cannot see that we were. Whenever we walked +single file, we fell into line in any order. The subject never was +mentioned or thought of. And so, that day, Peter was the last one. If +Blair or I had fallen or been overcome by the cold,--which is what we +know must have happened,--we would have been seen by Peter, of course. +But when he gave out, no one looked backward." + +"You had been trudging like that long?" asked Crane. + +"Oh, yes, for hours. We were all pretty nearly all in, but Joshua +wouldn't let us stop,--dared not, in fact, for he knew the danger of +that storm far better than we did. No, Mr. Crane, on the part of Blair +and myself, I want to say that we had no thought other than our +individual progress. That was all any one could think of, as Peter +himself would say if he could speak." + +"He has spoken," returned Crane, quietly; "he did say it." + +"What!" exclaimed the two men together. + +"Yes," the older man went on; "I think I will tell you, though I had +half decided not to: What do you say, Mother?" + +Mrs. Crane looked up. Her expression of dumb despair gave way to a look +of quiet peace as she said, slowly: "Yes, dear, tell them. But let it be +held confidential." + +"You'll promise that, boys, won't you?" asked Crane, and only half +understanding Blair and Shelby promised. + +"Well, it was this way," Crane began, "You know we couldn't get letters +from you chaps all the time you were away,--except the few early ones. +Of course we knew that before you went, but we didn't realize how +lonely we would be without Peter Boots. Whenever he has been away before +we could hear from him frequently. Julie is a dear girl, but she is a +busy little butterfly, and many a time my wife and I are alone of an +evening." + +"And we're happy enough together," Mrs. Crane put in, gently; "but being +alone, we naturally talked a great deal of Peter, and--and we couldn't +help remembering the Gypsy's warning." + +"Oh, I'd forgotten that!" exclaimed Blair. "What was it, now?" + +"A prophecy that Peter would go on a long journey, and would meet with a +terrible death. Now, the prophecy is fulfilled." Mrs. Crane's face, as +she gazed upward, her eyes filled with tears, was like that of a seeress +or prophetess. She appeared exalted, and unconscious of her grief for +the moment. + +"And there was further prophecy," Benjamin Crane continued, "that after +his death, Peter would return. And when I say he has done so, I expect +you to respect my story and not to doubt its truth." + +"We shall most certainly respect your story, and no one could doubt your +veracity, Mr. Crane," said Shelby, sincerely, though with a mental +reservation that believing in Benjamin Crane's veracity did not +necessarily mean subscribing to his hallucinations. + +Blair's face showed his interest and curiosity, and Benjamin Crane went +on with the tale to a breathlessly absorbed audience. + +"It did come about, I've no doubt, because of our talks of Peter; and +also, because we chanced to hear of some neighbors who had wonderful +success with a Ouija Board." + +A sudden, involuntary exclamation on the part of Blair was immediately +suppressed by a warning glance from Shelby. It would never do to show +scorn of the Ouija Board and all its works in the presence of this +afflicted couple. If any comfort from its use had reached them or could +reach them, it must be a blessing indeed. + +"Yes," Crane said, catching the meaning of the look on Blair's face, "I +know how you feel about such things, but just reserve judgment until you +hear our experiences. We bought a Board, and mother and I tried to use +it alone. We had no success at all. It would spell nothing +coherent,--only meaningless jumbles of letters,--or simply refuse to +move. Of course, you understand, we had no thought that our boy was--was +in any danger,--but we had been told that sometimes living persons +communicated by such means. So we persevered, but we never got a +message." + +"Then what happened?" asked Blair, eagerly, seeing from the faces of the +older people that something had. + +"Why then," Mrs. Crane spoke now,--"we found somebody to help us. I'd +rather not tell the name,--it was a lady----" + +"A medium?" asked Shelby. + +"Oh, no! I mean, not a professional medium,--a lady we've known for +years. She had had some experience with the Board, and she tried it with +us. And then,--you tell it, father." + +"Then," said Mr. Crane, speaking very seriously, "then we got a message +from Peter. The message said that he had died in the snow." + +"What!" cried Shelby, "incredible! When was this?" + +"In November." + +"Peter died the seventeenth of October." + +"Yes, and it was the tenth of November that we had the message." + +"Just what did it say?" asked Blair, his eyes wide with amazement. + +"It was a little stammering and uncertain, as if hard to get it through. +But the Ouija spelled out Peter's name, and when she--Miss--when the +lady with us asked if it had a message from Peter, it pointed to 'yes.' +Then she tried to get the message. But the words were a little mixed up. +There was _snow_ and _ice_ and _storm_ and at last the word _dead_. When +we asked if Peter had died in a snowstorm the Board said yes. So, we +knew the prophecy was fulfilled at last. The news you brought us was +corroboration, not a surprise." + +Shelby restrained himself by an effort. His sharp glance at Blair made +him keep quiet also. Neither was at all impressed at the story Crane +told them, except to be moved to ridicule. Well they knew how a Ouija +Board will make glib statements as startling as they are untrue. + +But this one happened to be true. Even so, the fact of its relation by +such means was unbelievable to both the hearers. + +Yet, they could not disturb the faith of the parents of their lost chum. + +"I am glad, for your sakes, that you had a premonitory warning," said +Shelby, in all sincerity. "Such things are indeed beyond our ken. Did +you get any further details?" + +"No," said Crane; "but, I learn, you have no further details yourselves. +My boy perished in the snowstorm, alone and helpless. What more is there +to know?" + +"Nothing that we could tell," spoke up Blair, a little excitedly, "but +surely, the spirit of Peter,--if it was he speaking to you,--could have +told more!" + +"It is clear you have had no experience in these matters," Crane said, +mildly; "the messages are not easy to get, nor are they concise and +clear, like a telegram. Only occasionally does one get through, and then +if it is informative we are duly grateful,--and not dissatisfied and +clamoring for more." + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Crane; I am inexperienced, but I assure you I am +not a scoffer. And of course, I believe your statements." + +"Of course!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, a little crisply. "Surely we would +not invent such a story!" + +"No, indeed," said Shelby. "It is strange, you must admit. Have you had +any further communications from Peter?" + +"A few," Mr. Crane spoke a bit reluctantly, for he could see that the +men were receptive from a motive of politeness, and not with sympathetic +interest. "He has sent other messages, but they would not, I fear, +convince you." + +"Now, don't blame us, Mr. Crane," Blair broke out, impetuously; +"remember, we're just from the place where we left Peter,--remember, we +love him, too,--and remember, if we could be convinced that he had +spoken we would be as interested as you are." + +"Well put, my boy," and Crane seemed greatly mollified. "Now, merely as +an admission of facts, do you believe that the Ouija Board gave the +messages exactly as I have detailed the proceedings to you?" + +"I do," said Blair, "that is, I believe you have told the exact truth of +what you observed." + +"Then, can you refuse to believe that the message came from the spirit +of my dead boy? Who else knew of his death? How could any one know of +it?" + +"True enough," and Blair shook his head, noncommittally. + +Crane sighed. "You don't believe," he said, but without annoyance. +"Yet, remember, greater minds and wiser brains than yours believe. Are +not you a little presumptuous to set your opinion against theirs?" + +"I don't mean to be presumptuous, Mr. Crane," Blair spoke decidedly, +"but I do think my opinion on this subject as good as any man's." + +"Then you are condemning the matter, unheard, which you will allow is +not strictly just." + +"Come, come, Blair," said Shelby, distressed at his attitude, "don't +discuss things of which you know nothing. Mr. Crane has gone deeply into +the subject and must know more about it than we do." He gave Blair a +positive glance of reproof, and tried to make him see that he must stop +combating their host's theories, if only for reasons of common +politeness. + +"But I'm interested," persisted Blair. "If Peter came here and told his +father he was dead,-- I want to look into these things. You see, it's +the first time I've ever been up against a real case of this sort. Own +up, Shelby, it's all mighty queer." + +Benjamin Crane looked kindly at Blair. "That's the talk, my boy. If +you're really interested, come round some night, and with you here, +Peter may talk through, all the better." + +"Rubbish!" Shelby thought, silently, but aloud, he only said: + +"Yes, Blair, do that. And drop the subject for the present. Is Julie at +home, Mrs. Crane?" + +"No; she's away for a few days. Poor child, she will be heartbroken. She +adored Peter Boots," and Mrs. Crane again gave way to tears. + +"What does Julie think about the messages?" asked Blair, thoughtfully. + +"We didn't tell her," said Crane. "She's so emotional, and--well, of +course, we couldn't help hoping that it mightn't be true. And, too, +Julie hates all talk of spiritism." + +"Sensible girl!" thought Shelby, as Mrs. Crane was saying: + +"But Julie went to Sir Rowland's lectures and she was deeply +interested." + +"Lectures?" asked Blair. + +"Yes; there have been a great many this season. I'm sorry you had to +miss them. They're over now. But I can't see how any one could listen to +that delightful man talk on such subjects in his beautiful way and not +be convinced of the truth of it all." + +"What did he say?" asked Shelby. + +"That's too big a question to be answered in a sentence," and Crane +smiled a little, "but he gave us incontrovertible proof that the spirits +of the dead return and communicate with their friends who are still on +earth." + +"Through a Ouija Board?" Blair inquired. + +"Yes; and by actual manifestation as well. I've never consulted a real +medium, but now that I know Peter is gone, I shall do so." + +"Don't!" Shelby said, quite involuntarily. Then, seeing the look in +Crane's eyes, he added: "Forgive me, sir, I have no right to advise. But +I've been told that all professional mediums are frauds." + +"We are told many things,--both for and against," returned Crane, "but +if Sir Rowland is willing to consult them, and believes in them, I'm +ready to sail under his flag." + +"Of course. And you've a perfect right to do so." Shelby felt he +couldn't control his real opinions much longer, and wanted to go. "May I +come to see you again, soon,--and talk over the matters of Peter's +things,--which, of course, we brought home? And, I'd like to see Julie." + +"She'll be home by to-morrow evening. Of course, we'll send for her. And +I know she'll want to see you both. Perhaps not just at first, but after +a few days. Please come to the house whenever you will,--just as you +used to do." + +"Yes, do," added Mrs. Crane, her lip quivering at the remembrance of the +old days when the boys were jolly together. + +"And Miss Harper, how is she?" asked Blair, who had been longing to put +the question for some time. + +"Well, as usual," replied Mrs. Crane. "She was here last night. She----" + +"She's a dear girl," Crane interrupted his wife, and a peculiar look +crossed his face. "You come round soon again, boys, but I fear we must +let you go now. My wife is keeping up bravely, but----" he glanced at +the little woman tenderly, and took her hand in his. "And I, too, don't +feel like talking more now. So good-night,--and, thank you for all your +good comradeship with my boy,--my Peter Boots." + +"We want sympathy, too, Mr. Crane," said Blair; "Peter was very dear to +us both. We're not given to spilling over, but we have lost a dear +friend and chum whose place can never be filled by another." + +"Right!" said Shelby, in a choked voice, and his handclasp with Peter's +father said the rest. + +But once on the street his exasperation broke forth in words. "I can +stand any sort of idiots," he said, "except spook idiots! They make me +want to go back to the Labrador!" + +"Sort of queer, though, that message,--from Peter----" + +"From Peter--nothing! Don't desecrate that boy's memory by even an +implication that he'd fiddle with a Ouija Board! Ugh!" + +"How do you explain it, then?" + +"There's nothing to explain." + +"You think Crane,--er--misstated?" + +"Oh, I think he thought he had a message,--but he was duped. They all +are. I know all about that Sir Rowland. I've read his books. He's dotty +on the subject. Keep off the rocks, Blair. You've a leaning that way, +and if you don't look out you'll fall for it, too." + +"Wonder why Mr. Crane shut his wife up when she started to say something +about Carly Harper." + +"Oh, that was nothing particular. Anyway, you can see Carly for +yourself. I expect she'll be hard hit by Peter's death. They were +practically engaged." + +"How'd you know?" + +"Peter told me,--not in words, bless his heart! He just let it out when +he was in a babbling mood. I mean, he let fall side remarks, and I just +gathered the truth. I didn't tell him I knew. Open-hearted as he was, +Peter was reserved in some ways." + +"Dear old chap, so he was. Our great work will never materialize now. +Unless I write it alone. I'd like to do that,--and publish it over both +our names, and explain in a preface." + +"Do," said Shelby; "it would please the old people a lot." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +Madame Parlato + + +Blair's first interview with Carly Harper was painful for both. The +Cranes had told her of Peter's death, but the sight of Blair seemed to +bring home to the girl a further and more vivid realization of her loss. + +"I wish now I'd been kinder to him," she said, her voice quivering. + +"Oh, come now, Carly, I know you weren't unkind." + +"No; but I wouldn't--wouldn't do what he asked me----" + +"Never mind, dear; I think I know what you mean, and, let me tell you, +old Peter was happy enough--about you. He seemed pretty sure that things +were coming his way." + +"Of course," the girl said frankly. "I only wanted him to go away, free, +and then if he still wanted me when he came back--and now he'll never +come back!" she gave way to silent weeping. + +"His parents say he has come back," offered Blair, more by way of +diversion than comfort. + +Carly looked up quickly. "They told you that?" she said. + +"Yes, told me pretty much all about their 'messages.' Foolishness, of +course, but it seems to comfort them." + +"It doesn't comfort me," and Carly sighed. "I don't believe in it, you +see." And she looked at him with a curious glance. + +"No; I don't either. But the old people do, and if it helps them bear +their grief,--why----" + +"Yes; I understand. How--how much did they tell you?" + +"All, I suppose. They said some medium,--well, not a professional, but +some friend of theirs,--helped them to get messages 'through,' as they +call it." + +"Didn't they tell you who the friend was?" + +"No; but they weren't mysterious about it. They simply didn't say. I +believe Julie doesn't like to have them try it,--the Ouija, I mean." + +"Oh, she feels as I do,--as anybody must,--if they like it let them have +it. She went to the lectures." + +"Everybody did, it seems." + +"Yes, the whole town went crazy on the subject. Is yet, but not quite to +the same extent." + +"The war brought it all about, of course. After a short time, the fad +will die out." + +"Yes, if it is a fad. But,--do you never think there may be a grain of +truth in it all?" + +"I haven't seen the grain yet, but I'm open to conviction." + +"Oh, well, I've no intention of trying to convince you. Tell me all +about your trip,--tell me all the queer experiences you had, and +everything you can think of. And tell me lots about Peter." + +Blair did her bidding. He described their life in the Labrador, told of +their exploits and discomforts and also of the glorious outdoor days and +nights that were so enjoyed by them all. + +"I'd love it!" Carly declared. "Oh, not all the tramping and portaging, +but the camp life." + +"Better try it nearer home. The Adirondacks would give you enough +excitement. There's no use braving that cold up there, and those fierce +storms." + +"If it hadn't stormed, Peter wouldn't have been lost, would he?" + +"Probably not. You see, we've mulled it over and over. He must have +fallen and hurt himself in some way, or he would have followed us +somehow." + +"He would have called out." + +"That's the point. The wind was in our faces, it was a villainous blast, +and nothing any one said could be heard by one in front of him, unless +they were near each other. If Peter had shouted, the wind would have +carried his voice back and away from us. That is undoubtedly what +happened." + +"Don't you think the guide was greatly to blame?" + +"No; he had no reason to look back at us, as if we were sheep. We had +always followed his trail, there was to all appearances no difference +between this trip and any other. We had breasted equally severe storms, +and come home, laughing. I feel sure Peter met with an accident,--or, it +may be,--probably enough,--his strength suddenly gave out, or even his +heart went bad, or something like that. Perhaps he couldn't shout. I +blame myself, of course, for not looking back sooner, but I do honestly +feel that it was not a culpable omission." + +"Of course it wasn't! I see just how it was. Great, big, stalwart Peter +was not a baby to be looked after by you others. But--oh, Gilbert,--it's +so dreadful to think of his dying there alone! Perhaps he--he didn't die +right away----" + +"Don't, Carly! Try not to think about that. Think only that old Peter +Boots is gone,--that he lived a fine, clean, splendid life, and met his +end bravely, whatever happened. And, too, I'm told that he couldn't have +suffered much. He must have lost consciousness very quickly." + +"Yes,--I suppose so. But--oh, Gilbert, I didn't know how much I cared, +until--until I lost him." + +"I know, dear,--it's awful hard for you. Come on, get your hat and let's +go over to Julie's. I haven't seen her yet, and I promised to call +to-day." + +They went to the Cranes', and found Shelby already there. + +It was tea hour, and several people were gathered about Julie's pretty +tea table. + +For the Crane family, though in mourning, received gladly the intimate +friends who had loved Peter, and who came, full of sympathy, to talk of +him. + +Julie received Blair with a warm welcome, but,--or at least so Blair +thought,--she was a little cool in her greeting to Carlotta. + +The two girls were pleasant enough, but there was an evident constraint +between them, and both turned quickly aside to talk to some one else. + +Blair pondered. He was by way of noting significant details and his own +interest in Carly Harper made him quick to resent any slight put upon +her. Not that Julie's attitude could be called really slighting, nor was +it more so than Carly's own, but there was some dissonance there. + +His observation, though veiled by a pleasant, general interest in +everything, was no less acute, and he continued to note that the girls +really avoided each other. It was none of his business, but he was +curious and surprised at a state of affairs so different from the +intimacy he had known them to enjoy of old. + +He bided his time, and at last, finding an opportunity, he spoke to +Julie alone. She still sat at the tea table, but all having been served, +she was idle and a little distrait. + +"I'm glad to see you again, Gilbert," she said, at last, looking at him +through tearful eyes, "but it makes me think of Peter, and--oh, +talk,--or I shall go all to pieces!" + +Knowing Julie's emotional nature, Blair tactfully talked, telling +Peter's sister of trifling occurrences that were interesting in +themselves rather than of personal import. He succeeded in restoring her +calm and at last a chance allusion brought up Carly's name. + +"What's the trouble between you two girls?" Blair asked, lightly. + +"Trouble? There isn't any," and Julie's blue eyes,--so like +Peter's,--looked straight at him. + +"Oh, just a school-girl squabble, is it?" + +"It isn't anything," Julie persisted, "why do you say that?" + +"Now, look here, Julie Crane, you can't fool me. I'm a mind reader, and +I see there's a rift in the lute that you and Carly used to play duets +on." + +Julie smiled at the way he put it, and said, half unwillingly: "Well, +you see, Gilbert, Carly's a snake-in-the-grass." + +"What! Oh, I say, Julie, don't talk like that! What do you mean?" + +"She's underhanded, sly, deceitful, dishonest----" + +"Stop, stop! You're losing your mind! Suppose you let up on vituperation +and do a bit of explaining. What has Carly done to merit those terms?" + +"What has she done? She has come over here,--when I've been away,--and +stirred up father and mother with that silly, hateful, vicious old Ouija +Board performance,--that's what she's done!" + +"Ouija! Carly! Surely you're mistaken." + +"Indeed, I'm not. Father and mother couldn't make the silly thing go at +all, till Carly helped them. She pushes it, of course,--and they are +gulled and duped----" + +"But, Julie, wait! Why should Carly do such a thing?" + +"Oh, she's got the fad. Lots of people have, you know. And I haven't--I +hate it all--and so Carly comes over when I'm not home." + +"And was it she who got the messages from Peter?" + +"Yes, it was; that is, she pretended to." + +Blair was amazed. Carly had given him the impression that she didn't +believe in occult manifestations. Why should she do that, if she had +assisted at the Crane _seances_? He hated to think of Carlotta Harper as +insincere, but--he mused--that sort of thing tends to make people +insincere. He came to a quick decision that he would observe for himself +and not seek further enlightenment directly from either of the two +girls. + +So he only said, carelessly, "There's no accounting for the doings of +people who are obsessed by that sort of thing. But, look here, Julie, if +it is any comfort to your parents to think they have messages from +Peter, you wouldn't disturb their belief, would you?" + +"No, I don't. That's why I don't have a real quarrel with Carly. I think +she knows I've discovered her part in it all, and I think she knows I +resent it; but, as you say, if it helps dear old dad and mother to bear +their grief, I'm willing they should wear out one Ouija Board after +another!" + +"Good girl. You attended the lectures, I hear." + +"Yes, and they meant nothing to me. What was produced as evidence seemed +to me no evidence at all. I'd like your honest opinion, Gilbert." + +"I didn't hear the lectures." + +"But you can read the books. Sir Rowland has written several, and there +are hundreds of others. Do read some, and see if you can find anything +in them--anything at all that is conclusive proof." + +"Proof of what? Of continuity of existence?" + +"Not that, no. But proof that the spirits of the dead have ever +communicated with the living." + +It was during this conversation that Benjamin Crane came in. He was +evidently in a happy mood, his face was radiant and his fine features +glowed with enthusiasm. + +"I've had such an experience," he exclaimed. "I've had a _seance_ with a +real medium----" + +"Oh, father!" Julie cried out, involuntarily, but he only smiled +benignly at her. + +"Just listen, Julie, dear. Reserve your comment till you hear it all. +Then we'll see." + +He drew his armchair nearer the fire and rubbed his hands to the blaze, +then settled back in comfort, taking the cup that Julie brought him. + +"Yes, yes," he went on, "a wonderful experience. You know," he looked +round, including all his hearers, for all present had drawn near to +listen, "you know I felt sure we had no real mediums here in America. +When Sir Rowland told of the trustworthy ones he has consulted in +England, I almost decided to go over there myself. But I heard of one +here in New York, and I investigated fully her credentials and +references before going to her. Truly, she is a marvel." + +"I thought they weren't allowed," observed Shelby, smiling a little. + +"'Not allowed' is sometimes a mere figure of speech," and Mr. Crane +smiled, too. "However, I was allowed to see her and have a real +_seance_--oh, Helen," he turned to his wife, "I can scarcely wait to go +there again and have you go with me." + +"Father, I can't stand this!" Julie's eyes were blazing. "Please drop +the subject--at least, for the present." + +"There, there, my daughter, don't lose your temper. If you don't want to +hear about this, you may be excused." He smiled at her lovingly but with +a decided intention. + +"You're all interested, are you not?" he went on, turning to the various +attentive faces, and receiving nods and words of assent. + +"Then I'll go on," and he glanced at Julie, who sat still, controlling +her expression of face but with tumult in her heart. + +"Take it easy," Shelby whispered to her, "you'd better hear it, you +know, whatever it's all about." + +"The lady," Crane said, "is a medium, well recommended by members of the +Society for Psychical Research, and by individuals who have been her +clients." + +"What sort of recommendations does she offer?" asked an interested +voice, "letters?" + +The speaker was McClellan Thorpe, a friend of Blair's, who shared a +studio with him. + +Thorpe was frankly skeptical, but by no means controversial. He asked +his question in an honest desire to know of the credentials. + +"Yes," returned Crane, "letters from many well-known Spiritists, +Psychics, Scientists and plain citizens, who are enthusiastic and +sincere in their praise of this lady." + +"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Crane, who, it was plain to be seen, +fairly hung upon her husband's words. + +"Madame Parlato," returned Crane. "She is no fraud, no charlatan, but a +refined, gracious lady, whose sympathies are as wonderful as her occult +gifts." + +Carlotta Harper, who sat by Thorpe, was absorbed in the tale, and her +large dark eyes glowed, with intense interest as she listened. + +"Tell us just what happened," she said, and Julie gave her a look of +mingled scorn and apprehension. + +"I will," Crane's deep voice went on. "The lady, you understand, knew +nothing of me or of Peter. I was careful about this, for I know there +are unscrupulous mediums, and I wanted to feel sure of this one's +honesty." + +"How do you know she'd never heard of you?" asked Thorpe. He had a +manner of speaking that was definite without being annoying. Apparently +he was curious, and not, necessarily, incredulous. + +"How could she?" returned Crane, "we have no mutual friends. I heard of +her through a comparative stranger, and I went to her at once. Don't be +carping, Thorpe, just wait till you hear my story. Well, she greeted me +pleasantly, and with a most courteous and lady-like demeanor. I had an +appointment, of course, and she directed me to sit at a table opposite +herself. I did so, and for quite a time nothing happened. + +"Then--she was not exactly in a trance, I should say, but rather she +seemed absorbed in deep thought--she said, 'I see a man, a fair-haired +man with a sunny, boyish smile. Do you recognize that description?' I +didn't say much, for I'm no fool to give myself away, you understand, +but I nodded assent, and she went on: 'He seems very active, full of +life and energy, and of a loving, affectionate nature.' You may guess +how I felt when she described Peter so exactly! I wanted to exclaim, +'Yes, that's my boy!' but I'm always careful not to help in any way. So +I just nodded, and she went on. 'He passed away about two or three +months ago, and he seems willing to communicate with me. What shall I +ask him?' + +"Now, I'm canny, you know, and I said, 'Make sure of his identity first. +Ask him what name we used to call him by?' And, will you believe it? +after a short pause, she said, 'Peter Boots!' She seemed surprised +herself at such a name. I thought I ought to tell her how true that was, +so I did. She looked pleased to think it was all right, and waited for +me to ask another question. So I said, 'Ask him how he died.' She did, +and he told her he was frozen to death in a fearful snowstorm. Think of +that! And I said, 'Ask him how it happened.' And she did, and Peter said +he couldn't exactly say--he lost consciousness, and he knew nothing more +until he found himself on the other side. He said for me not to grieve, +for he should carry on over there all he had attempted to do here. He +said he retained all his ambition and energy and hope--you know he was +blessed abundantly with those traits--and----" + +"Did he say he was happy?" asked Mrs. Crane, eagerly. + +"He said he was content, and though it was all a little strange as yet, +he was becoming accustomed to that life and did not wish to return." + +"Did he send any message to me?" urged the anxious mother. + +"I'm coming to that, dear. Yes, he said for you not to grieve for him, +but to think of him as busy and happy and entirely contented. Oh, Helen, +isn't it wonderful? I arranged for another _seance_, and you shall go +with me. She held out a hope of materialization later, but she wasn't +sure she could compass that for some time to come. You needn't look +skeptical, Thorpe; that expression on your face only proves your +ignorance of these things. I tell you, man, if it were somebody you +loved and cherished you'd be mighty glad to hear from him!" + +"Never mind my expression, Mr. Crane," Thorpe returned, looking +apologetic, "I'm deeply interested, I can tell you, and I'd like to hear +more." + +"There's little more to tell. It was a quiet session--none of that +curtained cabinet, tambourine-playing business, you understand; but a +plain revelation from my boy's spirit through the medium of a refined, +cultured woman. I'm sorry, now, I didn't take my wife with me to-day, +but I feared it might not be so agreeable, and I tried it out myself +first. But we will go together soon." + +Crane beamed happily, and it was impossible not to rejoice with him in +his delight and satisfaction at his experience. + +Julie, her lips pressed tightly together, made no comment on her +father's story. Christopher Shelby, who sat beside her, eyed her +covertly, not quite decided whether to speak to her on the subject or +not. + +He concluded to do so, and whispered, "How does it all strike you?" + +"I don't know," she returned, passing her hand across her white brow +with a wearied gesture. "If it had been those foolish cabinet affairs I +should have been disgusted, but the really nice woman,--as father +describes her,--and he never misrepresents,--gives a slightly different +face on it. Still, I can't believe----" + +"Shall you go to the next _seance_?" + +"I haven't been asked. I doubt if they'll want me. I wonder what Carly +thinks of it all." + +But Carlotta was talking with Blair and Mr. Thorpe, and their +conversation had no connection with the subject in hand. They were +discussing a wedding of two of their mutual friends, which had proved a +surprise to them all. Blair and Julie joined that discussion, and the +matter of the _seance_ was not again referred to by the young people. + +But on the way home Thorpe spoke his mind to Blair, who accompanied him. + +"How can a sensible, otherwise well-balanced man like Benjamin Crane +fall for that fake?" he exclaimed. "I've known Mr. Crane for years and +he never showed signs of paresis before!" + +"I don't attempt to explain it," returned Blair, casually, "but I do +know that lots of other equally hard-headed citizens are tarred with +the same brush." + +"That's true enough, but this is the first time I've run up against it +so closely. I say, Blair, how did the lingo tally with the facts of +Peter's death? Or would you rather not talk about it?" + +"I don't mind talking about it at all. Why should I, among Peter's +friends? As to facts, we know none ourselves except that he was lost in +the snow. You've no idea of that snow, Thorpe! It was like a thick, +white feather-bed, falling, falling continually. It was impenetrable to +sight or hearing. The wind blew it about some, but it fell so thickly +that it seemed a solid mass that we struggled through. And it was quite +all we could do to get along----" + +"Oh, don't think for a minute I feel you were in the least derelict! I +know you weren't. It merely chanced that Peter's heart gave out--or +whatever it was that did happen--while he was the last one of the +procession." + +"And not only that. If, say, I'd fallen, a man behind might not have +seen me go down. If we swerved ever so little from a straight line, and, +of course, we did,--couldn't help it,--we lost sight for a moment of the +man in front. And as we all went along, eyes down or closed much of the +time, we might have lost a man who wasn't walking last. I wish I could +make you see it, Mac! See the traveling, I mean. I've never progressed +against such difficulties." + +"I know, old chap. Do get out of your head that anybody blames any of +you in the least. And if they did, the blame would fall on the guide, +not on you fellows." + +"Joshua was not a bit to blame either. Surely you see that. It was every +man for himself,--and--fate took the hindmost! Oh, I hate to think about +it! It's even worse to me now than when it happened. The more I think +about it the more I grieve for dear old Peter. We were good pals, you +know." + +"I know it; we all were. Mighty few chaps like Peter Boots!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Strange Revelations + + +"Old man Crane's gone nutty," Shelby remarked. + +"Been going for some time," agreed Blair, and McClellan Thorpe nodded +his head decidedly. + +The three sat in the studio apartment occupied by Blair and Thorpe, who +had just returned from dining at their club. + +Shelby had come home with them, but was soon to leave to keep an +engagement. + +"You'll scarcely believe what I'm up to to-night," Shelby went on, "I'm +going to a _seance_ with Mr. Crane." + +"I say, Kit," remonstrated Thorpe, "I don't think you ought to encourage +him. He's daft enough on the subject now, and your approval makes him +worse." + +"I'm trying to stop him," Shelby said, quietly. "I think if I go to the +fool thing I can see how she works it and tell Mr. Crane, and he'll be +convinced of her trickery." + +"Are you convinced of it?" asked Thorpe. + +"I've never seen this one, but it's my opinion all professional mediums +are fakes," Shelby replied, seriously; "it may not be so, but I believe +I can tell after one investigation. I shall pretend to be greatly +impressed and all that, but I'll keep my eyes open. And I'm not going to +upset Mr. Crane unnecessarily. But if I think she's just fooling him +along for the money that's in it, I'm going to tell him so." + +"Even at that," Blair put in, "maybe it's worth the money to him to be +fooled. He's rich enough." + +"Maybe. But I hate to see a man swindled. However, I've agreed to go +with him once, and I'm glad to go. Good-by, I'll report results later." + +"You see," Blair said to Thorpe after Shelby had gone, "Kit and I can't +help feeling a sort of responsibility for this fad of Mr. Crane's. It +may be foolish and sentimental, but we feel an interest in Peter's +father, and we watch over him as if Peter had asked us to do so, which, +of course, he never did." + +"But the medium business is such awful rubbish," objected Thorpe. + +"It is and it isn't," Blair said, musingly. "It's six weeks now since we +came home, and all that time Mr. Crane has been receiving messages from +Peter, and every one of them that I've heard are sane and believable. +Moreover, Carlotta Harper has almost convinced me there's something in +it. That girl is a sort of medium herself. She denies it, says she only +uses her common sense, but I think she's clairvoyant." + +"There's a heap of difference between being clairvoyant, in a common +sense way, and being a fake medium! I don't care what Miss Harper does +with a foolish Ouija Board, but I'm like Kit Shelby, I hate to see +Benjamin Crane stung by a wily faker!" + + * * * * * + +Meantime Mr. Benjamin Crane was altogether enjoying the process that +Thorpe called stinging. + +Shelby, deeply interested, and looking innocently credulous, sat by +while the medium conducted the _seance_. + +Madame Parlato was, as Crane had asserted, a quiet-mannered, refined +looking woman, of a gracious and pleasant personality. She was tall and +fair, rather English in type, and spoke with a noticeable English +accent. She frequently ended sentences of simple statement with a rising +inflection and was addicted to the use of the word _very_, which she +pronounced _virry_. + +"You are a bit skeptical?" she said, with a careless glance at Shelby. + +"Only by reason of lack of occasions for belief," he returned. "I am, +however, open-minded and fair-minded enough to be willingly convinced. +You may or may not know, this son of Mr. Crane's was one of my closest +friends, and----" + +"Don't advance information, please," she remonstrated, "lest I be +thought to make use of it. I will ask you both to be quiet, whilst I +compose myself." + +"Hush up, Shelby," growled Crane, and Shelby did. + +The medium closed her eyes and leaned back in her armchair. + +She did not seem to be asleep, but she breathed heavily and a trifle +irregularly, and now and then gave a slight convulsive shudder. + +At last she spoke, very slowly, and in a voice decidedly different from +her own. Shelby couldn't quite make up his mind whether it seemed to him +like Peter's voice or not. + +The voice said, "I am here, father," and, after a moment's pause, +repeated the words. + +"Yes, yes," breathed Benjamin Crane, enthralled, as always, by the +sound; "talk to me, Peter, tell me things." + +"I can't talk much this time, father, it is hard to get through. There +is some obstacle." + +These words did not follow each other in natural succession, but came +haltingly, with waits between. Madame Parlato seemed unconscious of the +delays, and merely acted as a mouthpiece for the revelations. + +"What sort of an obstacle?" asked Crane. + +"An unbeliever is near," the voice hesitatingly asserted. + +"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Shelby, "tell him who I am!" + +"It's only Shelby," Mr. Crane said, "Kit Shelby. He's not really an +unbeliever, only inexperienced." + +"May I speak to him?" asked Shelby, as if permission were necessary. + +"Go ahead," consented Mr. Crane. + +"It's old Kit, Peter--Kit Shelby, who went on the trip with you." + +"Oh, Kit--all right--all right, old fellow--can't say much +to-night--something wrong----" + +"Well, but Peter," Shelby begged, "give me some sort of a sign--a test, +you know. I can't help wanting that." + +"All right," very slowly, "what test." + +"Let me see--well, tell me whose picture you carried in your watch +case." + +"Why, it was--Caroline--Caroline Harper." + +Shelby looked dazed. True, they had never called Carly Caroline, but the +Harper was undeniable, and the test quite near enough to the truth. + +The medium sat still, save for frequent slight shivers. Suddenly she +opened her eyes: + +"Who is talking?" she said. + +"I am," Shelby told her. "Please let me say a few more things." + +Madame Parlato's eyes closed, and she was motionless. + +"Are you still there, Peter?" asked his father, who was not at all +pleased with the presence of Shelby. It seemed to interfere with the +continuous talk he had hitherto enjoyed at the _seances_. + +"Yes, father. Is Kit there?" + +"Can't you see me, Peter?" + +"Not--not clearly. There's a haze in the room." + +There was no haze visible to the mortals present, but Shelby went +eagerly on. + +"Never mind seeing me, Peter, but do tell me this: What happened to +you?" + +"When?" asked the voice, with a far-away, fading sound. + +"When--when you died, you know. Oh, Peter, don't go away until you tell +us!" + +"Tell you--tell you--what?" + +"What killed you? How was it? Did you fall down?" + +"I--I fell down, yes." + +"In the snowdrifts?" + +"Yes, the snow was so cold--" + +"But why couldn't you get up? What happened to you? Did any attack----" + +"Yes, I was attacked. Attacked by a----" + +"What!" + +"By a wild animal of some sort." + +"Oh, Peter! What was it? Are you sure?" + +"No, not sure--but attack by----" + +The voice grew fainter and more incoherent, and in a moment the medium +sat up straight and shook her head. + +"He was troubled," she said, "I could see him though you couldn't, and +he was sad and worried." + +"What about?" asked Shelby, abruptly. + +"I'm not sure, but I think because he didn't want to tell the awful +details of his death." + +"What were they? Could you see them?" + +"Yes," she pushed her loose hair back from her brow, as if exhausted. +"Yes, I saw it like a picture, but like a clouded, indistinct picture. +The poor chap was fighting a wild beast! Oh, it was fearful!" she shut +her eyes and shook her head violently. "That's the worst of it, I see +too clearly." + +"Tell us more, then," begged Shelby. "How did Peter look?" + +"Glorious, transfigured! His face was shining and his eyes sparkling." + +"H'm--queer to look like that when he was so worried." + +"Oh, that was before the anxious look came. It is, I fear, difficult for +you to understand the conditions. The discarnate spirit has a sort of +secondary personality, not unlike a hypnotic state, and sometimes this +is jarred by any untoward influence and develops into a delirium, and +the statements cannot then be relied on. A novice always expects a +clear, definite style of speech from a spirit communicating through a +medium. This is not always the case. And the medium must merely take +what comes and repeat it without change or addition. If, therefore, you +are disappointed, I cannot help it. Surely you would not wish me to +embroider the messages I receive." + +"Surely not," returned Shelby, "indeed, I think it wonderful that you +succeeded in getting as much coherence and information as you did. It is +something to know that Peter was attacked by a wild beast, for, horrible +as is the news, it does explain why he couldn't proceed on the journey." + +"Yes," agreed Mr. Crane. "And I am so avid for word from my boy, that +even if the messages are disturbing and harrowing, I want them all. I +have always told Madame Parlato not to spare me. I prefer to know the +worst. For my boy is happy now. We have had several sittings; my wife +has attended some, and they are always comforting because of Peter's +assertions that he is now happy and contented." + +At Shelby's urgent request, the medium endeavored to induce Peter's +spirit to return for a further word. + +Her success was only partial, but they did hear a message to Shelby +direct. + +"Persevere, Kit," Peter said, "you're doing right in that matter. Go +ahead, Kit." + +"Your voice sounds queer, Peter," Shelby said, frowning a little. "It +used to be pitched in a higher key." + +"It's the medium," came a reply, and the pitch was higher. "I don't mean +the human medium, but the medium through which I must talk--the ether, I +suppose it is. Good-by, Kit." + +Madame Parlato then came out of her trance, or whatever term she used to +designate her half-conscious state. + +"The session is over," she said, pleasantly. "I fear, Mr. Crane, you did +not get your usual degree of satisfaction from it, but that was because +of a third party here. I don't think Mr. Shelby's antagonistic exactly, +but he's--well, uncertain whether to believe what he hears or not." + +"That's quite true, Madame," said Shelby, with due respect, "but you are +doubtless accustomed to people in my frame of mind." + +"Oh, yes," and the lady smiled a little, "but I trust, Mr. Shelby, you +will come some time by yourself and let me see what I can do to help you +make up your mind." + +"I shall be glad to do that. You have a strange power, at any rate." + +"Strange, yes; but by no means unique. There are minds tuned by nature +to receive spirit messages, as wireless stations are tuned. I cannot +explain my strange power, I marvel at it myself, but I recognize it, and +I use it humbly and gratefully as a God-given treasure." + +"And that's what it is!" declared Benjamin Crane. "I'm glad you came +to-night, Shelby, but, after this, I admit I prefer to come alone, or +with only my wife. The messages from Peter to his father are naturally +more of a loving and domestic nature, and I revel in them." + +"I don't wonder at that, Mr. Crane. And I congratulate you on having +found such a capable and skillful medium." + +Madame Parlato gave Shelby a quick glance, almost as if doubting his +sincerity. But his frank, honest face reassured her, and she said: + +"And, I'm proud to say, I'm not only a medium, but I am possessed of the +power that is called impersonation or transfiguration. This is +comparatively rare, and it enables me to perform what really seem like +miracles. I am taken possession of by the departed subject, and I speak +and act so perfectly with that other personality that sometimes I even +resemble the person who is talking through me." + +"It is indeed wonderful," Shelby said, and Benjamin Crane looked happily +contemplative of the _seances_ in the future when Madame would utilize +this miraculous gift of hers in his behalf. + + * * * * * + +Shelby did go alone to see the medium, and it happened also that, about +a week later, going again, he chanced to meet Mr. Crane there. The +younger man offered to leave, but Crane said, "No, come along. Madame is +going to try to-night to materialize Peter's face, and I want you here +to see it." + +And so the strange _seance_ began. + +Materialization, of course, called for a darkened room, and Shelby's +naturally suspicious mind was alert for possible fraud. + +But he could discover no chance for such. There was no cabinet, no +tambourine, bell or trumpet, and no curtain was drawn or screen set up. + +After they had sat in darkness and silence for a time, a face seemed to +form in mid-air. It was a misty, vague countenance, and was wrapped +about with a soft, floating drapery or veil, which exposed only the +features. + +"Peter!" exclaimed Benjamin Crane in a half-gasping voice. "My boy +himself!" + +"Peter Boots!" cried Shelby, and slowly the face vanished. + +Not another word was spoken, and in a moment the lights were turned on. +This was done by Madame Parlato, at whose elbow the light switch was. + +"Did you see anything?" she asked, in an exhausted, harassed way, yet +with an air of eagerness. + +"Yes," cried out Crane. "I saw Peter, my own son!" + +"I couldn't be sure," she went on, speaking wearily. "It always exhausts +me utterly to induce a materialization, and I doubt if I can achieve +anything more to-night." + +"Nor do you need to," declared Mr. Crane. "That's enough for one +_seance_. Some time you may do that again, and also get speech from +him." + +"May be," she rejoined, with a gentle politeness, "and now I should be +glad to say good-night." + +The two men walked off, Crane in a tumult of delight, Shelby wondering +at it all. + +"You accept marvels very easily, Mr. Crane," the latter said. + +"Because they are marvels," said the older man simply. "If they were +fraud it would be no marvel. But being genuine, it is a marvel, it is a +miracle, and I am glad, rejoiced to accept it!" + + * * * * * + +It was soon after this that Shelby, calling on Carlotta Harper, asked +her what she thought of it all. + +"Rubbish," she replied flatly. + +Shelby looked at her. "But," he said, "I've been told that you can work +the Ouija Board wonderfully!" + +"Work the Ouija Board! What sort of talk is that? Do you mean push it, +to spell what I want it to?" + +"No; I spoke carelessly. I mean use the Board with results that are +surprising." + +"Who can't do that?" + +"Lots of people--myself, for one. Let's try it now, Carly. Will you?" + +"Certainly, if you like. And, if you'll give me your word of honor that +you won't voluntarily or purposely urge the thing in any direction or +toward any letter." + +"Of course I promise that! Where'd be the fun if we cheated? You +promise, too?" + +"Yes, indeed. Like you, I've no interest if either pushes the least +mite." + +They placed themselves with the board between them on their knees. + +It was but a short time before the little heart-shaped block began to +move. + +Carly, who was no novice, said in a sing-song way: "Is there a spirit +present?" + +The board slid quickly to the corner marked "yes." + +"Will you spell out your name?" Carly went on in a very matter-of-fact +voice. + +The pointer went from letter to letter, now hurriedly and now making +wide circling sweeps, but it spelled correctly "Peter Boots." + +Shelby kept most careful watch on Carly's finger-tips. He could see that +there was no apparent muscle movement, no surreptitious pushing and no +motion of any sort save to follow the moving board. Her hands were quite +evidently resting as lightly as his own on the wood, and the board +without doubt moved without the voluntary help of either. + +"Shall we go on?" asked Carly, in a half whisper. + +"Go on? Of course!" returned the other. + +"Peter, have you a message for us?" Carly asked, again using that calm, +uninflected tone. + +"Yes," pointed the board, and then, as they settled down to receive it, +the wooden heart spelled rapidly: "Do not grieve for me-- I am happy." + +Carlotta looked disappointed. "Oh, dear," she said, "I'm so tired of +that message! I thought Peter would do better than that! Let's try +again." + +Again the board moved, and the message came, "Tell mother not to +grieve----" + +"Oh, Peter," Carlotta said, in real impatience, "do say something beside +those stereotyped phrases! Tell us something we don't know, something +about yourself." + +"Tell us how you died," said Shelby, suddenly. + +"Yes, tell us that," Carly repeated. + +The board moved more slowly. + +"I was," it spelled, and "Go on!" the girl urged "I was--in the +snow----" + +"Yes, yes--go on." + +"And I fell down, and I--I--couldn't get up." + +"Why not?" this sharply from Carly. + +"H----" the board stopped; then went on, "Heart failure." + +"I thought so!" exclaimed Shelby; "there aren't any wild animals up +there in----" + +"Hush--it's moving again," said Carly. + +"Heart gave out," the board spelled, moving rapidly now. "Couldn't make +the boys hear. Could only gurgle in my throat. Couldn't shout. So I +died." + +"Do you believe it?" asked Carly, her big, brown eyes solemn and +serious. + +"Yes, I do," said Shelby. "It's highly probable, anyway. Go on, Peter, +tell us something else." + +Whether Shelby "believed" or not, he was deeply interested, and his +breath came faster as he saw the revealing letters spell various +messages. + +Both performers watched the four hands as the board moved under them. +And, the most intense scrutiny could discover no voluntary movement or +assistance to the uncanny instrument. + +Many messages were of slight importance, and then came a sudden, "I say, +Shelby, why don't you marry Carly?" + +The girl gasped, then smiled, but Shelby looked up, dumbfounded. + +"Oh, Carly," he said, "if you only would!" + +"Hush!" she reproved him. "I'll put the board away if you do such +things! You know you pushed it that time!" + +"I didn't, Carly, truly--word of honor, I didn't! I'd no idea what was +coming! Oh, Carly, darling, I love you, and--dear, whether Peter sent +that message or not--won't you--can't you----" + +They had risen, casting aside the board, and Shelby took her hands in +his. "Dearest," he said, "I wanted to tell you, but I was +waiting--for--for Peter's sake. Now--he wants it! So, dear heart--my +little girl--won't you----" + +"No," said Carlotta. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The Tobacco Pouch + + +It was doubtless owing to Benjamin Crane's attitude regarding his son's +death that the home did not present more the aspect of a house of +mourning. Both Crane and his wife were not only resigned to Peter's +fate, but they seemed positively happy in what they believed to be +continued communion with his spirit. + +As Mrs. Crane said, "When Peter was a child the gypsies said he would go +away and be lost, but he would return to us. He has done so, he is doing +so--why should we grieve? He tells us he is happy and contented in his +new sphere of existence, therefore, we are, too." + +"That's all very well," Carlotta Harper would respond, "but I don't look +at it that way at all. I want my Peter Boots back again in the flesh. +I'm not contented at all with a lot of spirit talk communicated through +a paid medium!" + +"Don't say paid medium, as if the paying detracted from her worth," +Benjamin Crane chid the girl. "Of course, we pay Madame Parlato for her +time--why should we not? It's the best money I ever spent! And you're a +medium yourself, Carlotta. You hate to acknowledge it, but you are. Your +work with the Ouija Board is perfectly marvelous, and I have proved to +my own satisfaction that you never use the least fraud." + +"Indeed, I don't," said Carlotta, earnestly, "but what's the use? What +do I care to have Peter talk on that wooden board--if it _is_ Peter--I +want him, himself!" + +Carlotta was passing through strange moods. Living alone with her +mother, their home seemed far more a house of mourning than the Cranes'. + +The girl grieved deeply for Peter. Though not definitely engaged, she +knew their betrothal would have been sealed on his return. And not +having the comfort that the Cranes so gladly accepted, she sorrowed for +her lost love. + +Her success with the Ouija Board was a matter of mystery to her mother +and to all who knew of it. It seemed that she must be a medium, or +possess some occult power, for whenever she placed her finger-tips on +the little board it immediately began to move, and told such remarkable +things that there was occasion for surprise. Nor did Carlotta move the +board of her own volition. It was easily seen that she did not "push" or +urge it in any direction. The most careful scrutiny could not only +discern no effort of hers, but could not fail to be convinced that she +made none. Her friends came often to beg her to give them a session. +Her fame spread until it began to annoy her. + +Gilbert Blair talked to her about it. + +"You know, Carly," he said, "it's not really a message from a spirit you +get, it's----" + +"It's what, Gilbert?" she asked, smiling. "Don't you tell me it's fraud +on my part, because it isn't." + +"No, I don't think it's conscious fraud, but----" + +"But you don't know what it is, do you?" the girl smiled at him, and +Blair, looking deep in her eyes, said: "No, I don't know what it is, and +I don't care. But I care about you. Carly, dear, can't you learn to love +me? I'm not as good a chap as Peter--dear old Peter. But I love you--oh, +girl, how I love you!" + +"The Ouija Board said that Peter wanted me to turn my affections toward +Kit Shelby." + +"It didn't! did it? Then that proves that it was no real message from +Peter! He would rather you'd turn toward me." + +"How do you know?" + +"Oh, we used to talk about you up in the snows of Labrador. And Peter +loved you lots, but he knew I did, too, and we agreed that the best man +should win. I don't mean the best man, but the one who stood best in +your heart. And now--oh, Carly, if you only would----" + +"Not yet, Gilbert--don't let's talk about it yet." + +"But Peter's been dead nearly six months, and you weren't actually +engaged, you know----" + +"How do you know that?" + +"Peter told me, oh, we were confidential up there. And, now, Peter's +gone, and try, won't you, Carly, try to love me. Shelby isn't in my way, +is he?" + +"I don't know--he wants to be." + +"Of course he does! But I won't give up to him! Peter was different. He +was a wonder, that chap!" + +"Indeed, he was. And I care too much for his memory to think about any +one else--yet." + +"But some day, Carly--dear, some day?" + +"Some day we'll see about it. Gilbert, what do you think of that medium +the Cranes go to all the time?" + +"Absolute rubbish." + +"I think that, too. But she's doing queer stunts. She's begun +materializing things." + +"What sort of things?" + +"I don't know exactly. Flowers, I believe, and hands and faces." + +"You know all the legerdemain people do that." + +"That's no argument, Gilbert, and you know it. The charlatans can do all +the things that the real mediums do. The question is not whether the +fakers can do them, but whether the real mediums can." + +"Meaning whether the real mediums are real or not?" + +"Yes, that's what I mean. If ever there was a real one. I think Madame +Parlato is one. But I'm not sure. She does the Cranes a lot of good. +They believe----" + +"Not Julie." + +"Oh, no, Julie hates the whole business. I think she'd be convinced, +though, except for Mr. Thorpe. He's such a skeptic that he influences +Julie." + +"I _thought_ Thorpe was rather interested in that direction." + +"Well, rather! Why, they've been exclusively interested in each other +all winter." + +"Thorpe's a close-mouthed chap. We live together, but we seldom exchange +confidences. I like him pretty well, but----" + +"But what?" + +"I oughtn't to say it, but I don't altogether trust him. We're working +for a prize, you know, the Callender medal, and sometimes I've imagined +that he----" + +"I know, he steals your ideas." + +"Well, I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but he is an unconscious +kleptomaniac, I think. He watches my drawing--I go astray sometimes to +mislead him--and next thing I know he incorporates the same motive in +his own sketches. I wouldn't say this to any one else, but I'm a little +worried about it. Not so much about his taking my stuff as the fear that +some one will think I've taken his." + +"How's your work progressing?" + +"Well--if Thorpe lets me alone." + +"Can't you lock yourself in?" + +"Oh, no; we use the same studio, and if I seemed fearful he would be +angry at once. He's a strange nature, Thorpe. Morbid and secretive, yet +a good friend and a first-rate living companion. You see, we've separate +bedrooms, of course, but we've only the one big room that's studio and +sitting-room combined. We have to use it together, but as our friends +are pretty much the same bunch, we get along all right. We have lockers +and all that, but I hate to lock up my sketches when I go out. It looks +as if I didn't trust him." + +"Well, you don't." + +"No; but I can't tell him so. Nor do I want to hint it--at least not +until I find some definite proof. Get out your Ouija Board, Carly, and +see if it will tell us anything." + +"Oho, you believe in it fast enough when you want to use it?" + +But a trial of the occult only brought Blair the advice to beware of a +friend who might be at heart an enemy. To be careful of his plans and +sketches, for there was some one near who might be guilty of deceit. + +All of which Blair knew before. + + * * * * * + +The sessions which the Cranes held with Madame Parlato increased in +importance and interest. + +She had succeeded in materializing the face and form of their son to +their satisfaction of his identity. They told remarkable tales of seeing +and hearing Peter Boots, until Julie ran out of the room lest she voice +her disapproval too strongly. For Julie Crane, though an absolute +unbeliever in Madame Parlato and all her works, was a devoted daughter, +and would do nothing to disturb the happiness her parents felt in the +_seances_ with the medium. + +But one performance fairly staggered the group of listeners to whom the +Cranes recounted it. + +They returned from the medium's to find the young people sitting round +the hospitable Crane fireside. It was mid March and the weather still +allowed of the cheerful open fire. + +Carlotta was there and Shelby, and Blair and Thorpe, with Julie, of +course, made up the little party. + +"The most marvelous yet!" Benjamin Crane exclaimed, as he drew near the +fire. "Julie, dear, if you don't want to hear, run away, for I must tell +about it." + +But Julie stayed, and her parents told the story. + +It seemed the medium had promised them something very definite by way of +proof, and she had certainly kept her promise. + +The materialization of Peter had taken place, and, as the spirit form +slowly dissolved and faded from their view, there was left behind, lying +on the table, an object that had not been there before. + +It was a tobacco pouch, old and worn, and bearing Peter's initials. + +Julie looked at it with horror-stricken eyes, as her father produced it +from his pocket. + +"Why," she gasped, "it's the one I gave him on his birthday." + +"Not really!" cried Shelby, and both he and Blair leaned eagerly forward +to look. + +"It's the one he always carried with him in Labrador," Blair said, with +an expression of blank wonderment. "How did it get down here?" + +"I offer no explanation, save the true one," Benjamin Crane said, +seriously. "That is, as you see, a real object. It is Peter's property. +You, Blair, recognize it. Do you, Shelby?" + +"I do," Shelby replied, his eyes staring at the thing. + +"Julie recognized it at once," went on Crane. "So there's no doubt of +its identity. Now, I submit that it would be impossible for Madame +Parlato to have come by this in any natural way, therefore it is +supernatural." + +"Supernatural!" McClellan Thorpe exclaimed, with utter scorn in his +voice. "How could that be, sir?" + +"It was materialized by my son, Peter," Crane returned, looking at +Thorpe, calmly. "That may seem incredible to you, but it is not so +incredible as any other explanation you may offer. You cannot think my +wife or I would misstate what happened, can you? You cannot assume that +Madame Parlato obtained this in any underhanded way, for you cannot +conceive of any way in which she _could_ do so. Then, what do you +suggest?" + +"Anything, but that Peter brought it!" Thorpe cried. + +"Ah, yes; anything but the truth. You glibly say 'anything,' but I ask +you to suggest what you mean in that 'anything,' and you fail to reply." + +"There is nothing to suggest," Blair said; "I confess myself utterly at +a loss to suggest anything. To my certain knowledge Peter had that on +his person when he died! Why, that morning he had given me a pipeful out +of it, and had then returned it to his pocket! My explanation is that +Peter is alive!" + +"I wish that were the true one," said Benjamin Crane, fervently, "but if +you'll think a minute, Gilbert, you'll realize that if Peter were alive +he would come to us in the flesh, and not send his tobacco pouch by a +medium." + +"Indeed, he would!" agreed Carlotta, "much as I'd love to believe Peter +alive, this episode contradicts such a belief, not proves it!" + +"That's right," said Shelby, thoughtfully; "I, too, can believe anything +rather than that the medium caused the materialization of this thing, +but----" + +"The medium didn't cause it, exactly," broke in Mrs. Crane's gentle +voice; "you see, we had begged Peter so hard for a material proof that +he promised to try to give it to us. And at last he succeeded. It is +miraculous, of course, but no more miraculous than the strange things +recorded in the Bible. You see, I hold that the day of miracles is not +past." + +Shelby said gravely, "You must be right, for there's surely no other +explanation. I, too, saw this in Peter's hand that last day we were +together. I can't believe he's alive----" + +"Of course not!" interrupted Blair, "if he were, he'd have no use for +mediums! Whatever is the truth, it's not that Peter's alive! I only wish +it might be, but as Carlotta says, this thing contradicts such a theory. +I'm beaten. I see no light at all." + +Benjamin Crane smiled. "You boys admit you see no explanation yet you +refuse to accept the obvious and only one possible. But I'm not going to +try to persuade you, I've no reason to do so. It all means little to +you, but it is as the breath of life to me and to Peter's mother. I +trust that some day Julie will be convinced of these truths, but that is +for her to decide. I shall add this revelation to my book, by way of an +appendix. It's too late to incorporate it in the body of the work." + +Benjamin Crane's book had been a work of absorbing interest to him if +not to his friends. He was entirely obsessed by the whole matter of +Spiritism, and his book, following the style of a celebrated work of a +similar nature in England, was even now in the publisher's hands. + +The book was a memorial to Peter and an account of the experiences of +his parents during the sessions with the medium. Crane possessed a +pleasant, convincing style, and the book was well written and of a real +interest quite apart from the question of the reader's belief in its +matter. + + * * * * * + +When the volume was published, and that was early in April, it became an +immediate success. Not the least of the reasons for this was the +astounding account of the materialization of the tobacco pouch, detailed +exactly as Benjamin Crane had told the story the night of the +occurrence. + +The book went like wildfire. Edition after edition was sold, and +Benjamin Crane found himself famous. The benign old gentleman took his +notoriety calmly, and refused to see the people who thronged to his door +unless they were personal acquaintances. He had to engage secretaries +and other assistants, but his methodical and efficient mind easily coped +with all such matters. Mrs. Crane, too, was serenely indifferent to the +publicity of it all, and pursued her simple ways of life undisturbed. + +But Julie was angry at it all. Her life, she said, was spoiled by being +known as the daughter of a demented monomaniac. + +Her father smiled at her and told her she would change her views some +day, and her mother scolded her now and then, but mostly ignored the +subject when talking with her. + +Julie found sympathy in the views of McClellan Thorpe. + +Neither of these two would believe in the materialization of the tobacco +pouch, yet neither of them could arrive at any satisfactory explanation +of the incident. + +"Of course, it's Peter's pouch," Julie would say; "but it came to that +woman by some natural means. Maybe, somebody found it up there in +Labrador and brought it home----" + +"No," Thorpe would object, "in that case it would be weather-worn and +defaced, and, too, nobody would have any reason to find it, bring it +home, and give it to Madame Parlato! No, Carly, that won't do." + +"Maybe he had two--duplicates," Carly suggested once. But inquiries of +the Crane family proved that was not so. It was the very one Julie had +given her brother, she was sure of that. + +And so that mystery remained unexplained, save by the acceptance of a +miracle. + +A very material result of the success of Crane's book was a large amount +of money that came to him from its royalties. Some of this he decided to +use in fitting out an expedition to recover his son's body. + +This, he decreed, was to be under the direction of Shelby and Blair, who +knew just how it should be conducted. With his usual efficiency, Crane +made all the arrangements and then told the young men about what he had +done. + +They agreed to go, but Shelby advised first that he write to Joshua, +their old guide, as to their reception. + +This was done, but the reply received caused a halt in the preparations. + +For the letter, which Shelby brought over for Crane to read, ran thus: + + "DEAR MISTER SHELBY: + + "I think youd better not try to take back the boddy of Mister + Peter. We berried it verry deep and it better remain here. Anny + way, you cant mannage it till late summer. Say about August or + so." + +"However, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, "if you say so, we can go ahead in +spite of Joshua's letter. He's a good guide, but he always was a bit +dictatorial." + +"No," Benjamin Crane said, "I believe in taking advice from one who is +undoubtedly good authority. We'll postpone the plan until August." + +When Blair was told of it he was rather relieved, for he was busy with +his prize drawings and he didn't want to leave town. + +"Let's see the letter," he said to Shelby. + +"I haven't it, Blair. I left it with Mr. Crane. But I've told you the +gist of it." + +"All right, Kit," and Blair went on with his work. + +It was the next night at the Crane house that Mr. Crane again spoke of +his disappointment at not putting through his hoped-for expedition. + +"You see, Kit," he said to Shelby, "I want to write another book, and I +want it to be about the recovery of Peter's body." + +"Oh, don't do that, Mr. Crane," Shelby said, impulsively; "it would be +anti-climax. You've done a big thing, and scored a success. Another book +would spoil it all." + +"I don't think so," said Crane, not at all annoyed at Shelby's attitude. +"Anyway, I hate to give up my plan. See here, Shelby, are you sure that +man Joshua wrote the letter you got?" + +"Why, yes. What makes you ask that?" + +"Only because it's in a big sprawly hand, and once Blair showed me a +letter from Joshua, which he's kept as a memento, and it was in a small +cramped hand." + +"That's queer. But I expect Joshua might have got somebody to write for +him. Those half-breeds are not very scholarly, you know. However, if +there's any doubt about it, the matter must be looked into. Do you mean +that maybe we can go now, after all? But I can't help thinking that +Joshua wrote that. I know he's not very strong on spelling!" + +"Well, Blair will know. You ask him for that letter he has of Joshua's." + +"All right, Mr. Crane, I will. I'll see him to-night. There's a dinner +on at the Club, and he'll be there. You know he's in a fair way, I +think, to get that Callender prize." + +"I hope so, I'm sure. A rising young architect, Blair is, and I hope he +wins it. I suppose he wouldn't want to go to Labrador until that matter +is settled?" + +"No, probably not. But the award will be made this month." + +"And he's in a fair way to get it?" + +"Looks that way to me. His sketches are fine, though I haven't seen his +finished work. Thorpe's a close second, I imagine." + +"I suppose I'd rather see Thorpe get it, but don't tell Blair that. A +man is naturally interested in his future son-in-law." + +"Oh, it's gone as far as that, has it?" + +"Yes, but it's not announced yet. So say nothing till Julie tells you +to. She's a dear girl, but as hard as adamant where belief in the occult +is concerned." + +"She and Thorpe are at one there." + +"Yes, that helped the affair along, I fancy. But it's all right. Julie +can think what she likes. Peter used to hate the subject, too." + +"I know it. We touched on it now and then, but he usually veered off to +something else at once." + +"What do you think about the pouch, Shelby? I'm not sure I ever asked +you." + +"I don't think, Mr. Crane. I mean I can't explain the thing by natural +means, and I'm unable to believe in the supernatural. What more can I +say?" + +"Nothing. I suppose most people are like that. Thank heaven. I'm made so +that I can believe!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Blair Knows + + +Gilbert Blair was a lovable sort of chap, one of those fine, gentle +natures that will put up with annoyance rather than annoy another. +Although he would have preferred to live alone, yet it was greatly to +his pecuniary advantage to have Thorpe share his place, and, on the +whole, they got on fairly well. But, being of different habits and +temperaments, the details of their home life were not always harmonious. + +Blair was methodical, liked his drawing implements and sketches kept in +order, and the rooms tidy. Thorpe was not particular in these respects, +and his belongings were always scattered about not only on his own +tables or desk, but on Blair's. Moreover, he did not hesitate to use his +chum's materials if his own were not immediately available. + +So it happened that when Shelby stopped in on his way home from the +Cranes' he found a mild war of words in progress. + +"You know, old dear," Thorpe was saying, "you'd be quite welcome to use +my drawing paper, and I call it rough of you to kick because I took a +couple of sheets of yours." + +"Couple of sheets!" exclaimed Blair, "you took six or eight, and I had +only about enough to complete this series of sketches. You know how I +hate to use paper that doesn't match----" + +"At it again?" said Shelby, coming in. "You two never have an out and +out row, but you're always bickering. Thorpe, you ought to mend your +ways--it is a confounded nuisance to have other people using your +things." + +"Oh, Blair's an old granny. It does him good to get stirred up once in a +while. That paper of his----" + +"I know," said Shelby, quietly, "it's a special paper that he bought for +his prize drawings--it's not only expensive, but he wants the sheets +uniform. You knew this, Thorpe, and yet you grab it and use it for your +trial sketches." + +"Now, now, Kit," and Blair smiled good-naturedly, "you needn't take up +my quarrel. I'm jumping on Thorpe myself." + +"You jumping! You'd lie down and let him walk over you!" + +"Not much, he wouldn't!" Thorpe growled; "he's been ballyragging me for +half an hour! Not only about the paper, but he----" + +"Let up, Thorpe," Blair spoke angrily, "at least let's keep our +skeletons in our closet!" + +"Oh, is there a real row on?" Shelby inquired. + +"No, no," Blair declared, but Thorpe jumped up, and, going into his +bedroom, closed the door behind him. + +"Drop it," commanded Blair, quietly, and Shelby changed the subject. + +"Mr. Crane says you had an old letter from Joshua," he began, "let's see +it, will you?" + +"Sure, if I can find it," and Blair began rummaging in his desk. +"Confound it, Kit, if Thorpe hasn't been poking in here among my +letters!" + +"I wouldn't stand for it, Gilbert. What would he do that for?" + +"Hush," with a glance toward Thorpe's closed door, "never mind now. But, +anyway, I can't find that letter. What do you want it for?" + +"Mr. Crane thinks the one I received from Joshua looks so different that +I wanted to compare them." + +"Let me see yours. I can tell at once. Joshua wrote a small cramped +hand----" + +"This one was rather large and of loosely formed letters, but, of +course, some one may have written it for him." + +"Yes, Joshua hated to write----" + +"Well, never mind, don't hunt for it any more. Pretty queer thing about +that tobacco pouch of Peter's, don't you think?" + +Blair looked up quickly. "No, I don't. I know, or at least I think I +know, the explanation of that." + +"You do! Well, out with it!" + +"No, not now," and Blair gave a significant glance toward Thorpe's +door. "But I've had my suspicions roused, and I'm going to verify them, +and then I'm going to expose somebody. I can't stand any more of this +sort of thing. I tell you, Kit, I know!" + +Shelby looked at him in amazement. + +"Well, if you won't talk now, we'll whoop it up some other time. See you +to-night at the dinner?" + +"Yes; get along now, and we'll meet there later." + +Blair looked anxious and preoccupied. As he went toward the door with +Shelby he said suddenly, "I say, Kit, will you drop Carlotta Harper?" + +"Drop her!" + +"Yes; stop calling on her or paying her any attention." + +"I will not! Just why----" + +"All right." Blair's voice was cold and sharp. "Good night." + +"Good night, Gil. You're queer to-night. See you later." + + * * * * * + +While dressing for the dinner Kit Shelby thought long and earnestly of +Blair's strange words and his peculiar mental attitude. He thought Blair +was like a man who had reached the end of his rope. A sort of +exasperation had showed in his face and manner, and Shelby wondered what +it meant. + +He went over every word of the conversation they had had, including +Blair's demand that Shelby desist from future acquaintance with Carly +Harper! That was some demand, Shelby decided. And one to which he had +no intention of acceding. + +His ruminations resulted in his calling again at Blair's on the way to +the dinner. + +He found Blair nearly ready, and Thorpe, too, waiting to start. + +Shelby scrutinized the faces of both men, and concluded they were still +at odds. He went into Blair's bedroom, where that correct young man was +carefully tying his immaculate evening tie. + +"There, you made me spoil it," Blair exclaimed, as Shelby's sudden +entrance caused a nervous gesture and a resultant wrinkle of the strip +of lawn. + +"Fiddle-de-dee! Don't be a fuss! Only men, you know. That's good +enough." + +But Blair selected another tie, and, while he manipulated it, Shelby +fussed around the room. He could say no word in confidence to Blair, for +Thorpe was impatiently tailing them to hurry, and shortly the three +started off, gay of manner on the surface, whatever they might be +thinking about. + +They carefully avoided all mention of the Cranes, and also avoided the +coming prize competition as a subject of discussion. + +This, itself, proved the rift in the lute was still recognized in the +souls of Blair and Thorpe at least. The two had enough artistic +temperament to feel the inevitable jealousy of each other's designs, and +if Blair suspected Thorpe of appropriating his ideas, whether +consciously or unintentionally, it would have the effect of making him +unusually quiet, even morose, rather than to result in so much as a +spoken hint of his thoughts. + +Moreover, habit is strong, and the three walked off to keep their +engagement with much the same gay laughter and chatter as usual. + +Shelby, especially, was purposely talkative and jocular, for he wanted +to get the other two in complete good humor before the feast began. + +In a general way he succeeded, and though Blair was a bit quiet, Thorpe +regained his ordinary temper, and the men met and mingled with their +fellows, their attitude properly in the key of the occasion. + +It was a merry little dinner, and at last the talk drifted to Mr. +Crane's book about Peter. Everybody present had known and loved Peter +Boots, and various were the opinions regarding Benjamin Crane's +extraordinary work. + +"All rubbish," declared one man. "Strange, how sensible men can fall for +that stuff! Makes me sick!" + +"Oh, come now," another urged, "there must be something in it. Benjamin +Crane never made up all that." + +"No, he didn't make it up, but he was fooled, gulled, taken in." + +"By the medium?" asked some one. + +"Partly," answered somebody else. "But I think there's been underhand +work going on." + +"Such as what?" + +"Oh, some of Peter's people or friends helping the medium along. I've +read that book with the greatest care, studied it, and I get a lot +between the lines. And I think----" + +"Don't say it," put in Blair, quietly. "Unless you know something, +Knight, better keep still." + +"But why, Blair? We're all friends of Peter here, why not discuss the +thing freely and frankly?" + +"Better let it alone," insisted Blair, and then the talk drifted to the +coming competition, which was even more dangerous. + +"Of course nobody has a look-in but Blair and Thorpe," declared the +talkative Knight. "They're sure to get the prize, separately or +together." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Heard you were working on a big scheme on which you had joined forces." + +"Nothing of the sort," declared Blair, shortly, and Thorpe added, "And +if we were, we wouldn't say so." + +Then the more peaceable minded of the group introduced other subjects, +and art and spiritism were left out of it. + + * * * * * + +On the way home, as several were walking together, Shelby turned off at +his home street and refused all invitations to go on with the others. + +"Can't do it," he said. "I've got a piece of work to finish, and I've +got to go home. See you all to-morrow night. By-by." + +"I'm going along with you," Knight said to Blair. "I want to see your +sketches, you said I might." + +"All right," Gilbert returned, and, Thorpe with them, they went on to +the studio. + +Knight acted as a peacemaker, though not knowing it. He was a jolly, +good-natured man, and he guyed the work of both his friends until they +joined forces to contradict him. + +Late they sat, smoking and talking over general matters. Also they +discussed the Crane book, and agreed that, whether true or not, it was a +great document and wonderfully popular. + +"People are crazy over it, who always hooted at that sort of thing," +Knight asserted. "It's partly the charm of Mr. Crane's manner, for the +book is delightfully written, and somehow it does carry conviction." + +"Thought you didn't believe in it!" + +"Me? Oh, I don't," and Knight winked; "I mean it carries conviction to +those who like that sort of thing. No, I don't believe a word of it is +truth." + +"Yet you have confidence in Mr. Crane's sincerity?" + +"Oh, yes; he's merely fooled by a medium and----" + +"Go on." + +"And somebody who's telling her things." + +"Who'd do that?" + +"I don't know, but it's too palpable. Look at that tobacco pouch affair. +You know somebody must have given her that. Who did?" + +"Hush up," said Blair, determinedly. "If you want to discuss that, do it +somewhere else." + +"You're all on edge to-night, Blairsy. What's the matter?" + +"Nothing, and I'm not." + +"Oh, yes, you are," Knight went on. "But, of course, it's nervousness +about the competition. What'll either of you boys do if the other gets +the prize?" + +"Congratulate him," said Thorpe, but there was not much ring of +earnestness in his tone. + +Blair looked at him moodily, and Knight rose to go. + +"You chaps are out of sorts, and I'll not see you again till the prize +business is settled. Then I hope you'll be your own sweet sunny selves +once more. Good night." + +He went off, and the other two began a desultory conversation. It +lagged, however, and soon they separated for the night. + + * * * * * + +Nobody in the Leonardo Studio apartments was an early riser. For that +reason it was nearly eleven o'clock when Thorpe, his face very white, +telephoned downstairs and asked the doorman to come up at once. + +When Hastings appeared he found Thorpe sitting on the edge of a chair +in the studio in a state of agitation. + +"Blair----" Thorpe said, speaking with difficulty. "Mr. Blair,--you +know,--he's--he's very ill----" + +"Ill, sir? Where is he?" + +"In bed--in his room--go in, Hastings." + +The man went in, and it needed only a glance to tell him that Blair's +illness, whatever it had been, was fatal. + +"He's dead," Hastings said, in an awe-stricken voice. "He's surely +dead." + +"Well, do something," Thorpe said; "what's the thing to do? Get a +doctor?" + +"A doctor couldn't help him, but yes, we ought to send for one. Who, +sir?" + +"I don't know. I've never had a doctor. This unnerves me, Hastings. I +wish you'd do what's necessary." + +"Ain't you a friend of his, sir? Can't you show a little heart?" + +Hastings had never liked Thorpe, but had always been an admirer of +Gilbert Blair. There was no special reason for this, unless that Blair +was of a kindlier nature, and rarely found fault with Hastings, while +Thorpe was sometimes irascible and even unreasonable. + +Moreover, if Thorpe was nervously upset, Hastings was, too, and neither +man knew exactly what to do. + +"Well, you must get a doctor," Thorpe went on, a little peevishly. +"You're responsible in cases of emergency----" + +"Me responsible, sir? What do you mean, Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Nothing to make you look like that. But you're in a position of +responsibility, and it's up to you to do something. Now, do it." + +"Yes, sir." The tone of authority brought Hastings to his senses. He was +responsible in a case like this, and he went to the telephone. He called +the superintendent, who did not live in the building, and asked him to +come at once, and to bring a doctor. Then, his work done, he left the +room, and Thorpe was alone with his dead comrade. + +But McClellan Thorpe made no move. He sat still on the edge of the +chair, his face turned away from Blair's bedroom and toward the outer +door. + +At last Somers, the superintendent, arrived, and with him was Doctor +Frost. + +They went straight to Blair's bedroom, scarcely speaking to Thorpe. + +"Hastings tells me he's dead," Somers merely said, as he passed Thorpe's +chair. + +With practiced experience, the doctor examined the body. + +"The man has been dead about eight or nine hours," he said, "it's +impossible to fix the time of his death exactly,--but I place it at +about three o'clock this morning. Though it may have taken place an hour +sooner or later." + +"What caused it?" Somers, asked, "a stroke?" + +"Can't tell without an autopsy. There is positively no indication of any +reason for it." + +"A natural death, of course?" Thorpe asked, jerkily. + +The doctor gave him a quick glance. "Looks so," he returned. "Maybe a +stroke,--though he's young for that. Maybe acute indigestion, is he +troubled that way?" + +"With indigestion? Yes," Thorpe said; "he has it most of the time. But +not acute,--merely a little discomfort when he overeats,--which he often +does." + +"Does he take anything for it?" + +"I don't know,--yes, I've seen him take remedies now and then. I've not +paid it much attention." + +"Queer case," the doctor mused. "If it had been that, he would have +cried out, I think. Did you hear no disturbance?" + +"Not a bit," said Thorpe. "Are you sure it's not a stroke?" + +"He's too young for a stroke. Where are his people?" + +"'Way out West. And he hasn't many. An invalid mother, and a young +sister,-- I think that's all." + +"Well,--who should be notified? Those relatives? Where are they? Will +you take charge?" + +"Oh, I can't!" Thorpe spoke shrinkingly. "I'm-- I'm no relation,--you +know,--merely a fellow lodger in his apartment. I'd--rather get out, +any way." + +"You and he chums?" + +"Yes; both architects. Of course, I know all about Mr. Blair's work and +that,--but I know nothing of his private affairs. Can't you get somebody +to--to settle up his estate?" + +"If he has an estate to settle. But somebody ought to look after things. +Who are his friends?" + +"Mr. Crane is one,--Benjamin Crane. And Christopher Shelby,--he's an +intimate chum." + +"Crane, the man who wrote the book about his son's spirit?" + +"Yes, that one. Shall I telephone him?" + +"Yes; you'd better do so. And I think it necessary to have an autopsy. +This death is mysterious, to say the least. It's unusual, too, in some +of its aspects." + +"Do what you like," said Thorpe, "but--but I'd rather not be present. I +think I'll go down to the Cranes' and tell them,--while you--you go on +with your work." + +"All right," said Doctor Frost, "I'd just as lief have you out of the +way. Leave me the telephone call that will reach you." + + * * * * * + +As Thorpe went off, he realized that he'd had no breakfast. He felt +little like eating, but dropped into a restaurant for a cup of coffee. + +He found himself totally unable to drink it, and leaving it untasted he +went on to the Crane house. + +He told the story to Benjamin Crane, who was shocked indeed. + +"But I'm not greatly surprised," Mr. Crane said; "I've been thinking for +some time that Blair didn't look well. A sort of pallor, you know, and +he was thin. I don't think the Labrador trip agreed with him at all. And +Peter's death affected him deeply. No; Blair hasn't been well for +months." + +"What are you doing here at this time in the morning, McClellan?" asked +a laughing voice, as Julie Crane came into the room. + +But her laughter was hushed as she was told the news. + +"Oh, Mac, what an awful ordeal for you," she exclaimed, her sorrow at +Blair's death apparently lost sight of in sympathy for Thorpe. + +"It was, Julie," he returned, earnestly; "I'm--I'm positively foolish +about such things,--death, I mean. I,--I almost went all to pieces." + +"Of course you did! Had you had your breakfast?" + +"No; I tried to take some coffee, but I couldn't." + +"You will now," said the girl, decidedly. "You come with me, to the +dining room, and I'll make you some coffee myself, on the electric +percolator, and some toast, too, and if you don't enjoy them, I'll be +mad at you." + +He followed her in a sort of daze, turning back to say: + +"Are you going up to the studio, Mr. Crane?" + +"Yes, at once. You go along with Julie, and let her look after you. And, +Julie, you must tell your mother. It will be a shock,--she loves all +Peter's friends." + +The two went to the dining-room, where Julie, housewifely girl that she +was, brewed golden coffee and made toast with no aid from the servants. + +Mrs. Crane joined them, and Julie told her mother the sad news. + +"Poor Gilbert," she said, wiping her tears away. "Peter loved him. Have +you told Kit Shelby?" + +"Not yet," Thorpe said; "I'm so broken up myself----" + +"Of course you are," Julie said; "I suppose father will send him word. +Don't think about that, Mac, father will attend to everything." + +"I know it," said Thorpe, "and I'm so relieved. Don't think me a +weakling, but death always unnerves me,--I can't help it,--and when I +found Gilbert,--like that----" + +"There, there," Julie soothed him, "you did all you could. Now let me +make you one little piece more of brown toast----" + +But Thorpe declined. To please the girl he had managed to eat one tiny +crisp bit, but another he could not accept. Nor could he take more than +a small part of the cup of coffee she gave him. + +"I'm a fool," he said, "but--I'm all in!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Investigation + + +Nor did Thorpe's nerves grow calmer. Both Mrs. Crane and Julie tried to +soothe him, but he was jumpy and his mouth twitched spasmodically. + +The women endeavored to change the subject and talked of other things, +whereupon Thorpe sat, brooding,--his dark, handsome face strained and +despairful. + +"Now, McClellan," Julie said, at last, decidedly, "it's awful enough, +goodness knows, but I'll go crazy if you sit there like that any longer! +Let's think what's to be done. In the first place, there's Carly to be +considered. She's worse hit than you are. Oh, I know you and Gilbert +were great friends and all that,--but I think he and Carly were more +than friends." + +"Julie," said her mother, "don't assume more than you know. Carly hasn't +forgotten Peter,--of that I'm sure." + +"No; and I don't say there was anything definite between her and Gil +Blair, but I think it would have come in time. Gilbert was crazy over +her, even before they all went on that trip, and when Peter didn't come +back, I think Gilbert felt he had a right to win Carly if he could." + +"Oh, he had right enough," Mrs. Crane conceded, "but--I suppose I'm a +bit jealous of my son's memory. However, I'm sorry for poor little +Carly, if she did care for Gilbert in that way." + +And then Carlotta came in. Shelby was with her; he had heard the news +and had gone straight to Carlotta's home, and they had come over to the +Cranes' together. + +Carlotta's eyes were red with weeping, but she was even more indignant +than sad. + +"Who could have killed Gilbert?" she cried, "and why should any one do +so?" + +"Killed him!" cried Julie, "what _do_ you mean?" + +"Why, yes,--haven't you heard? Gilbert was poisoned." + +"Oh, Carlotta! Who said so?" + +"Kit told me;--tell them about it,--I can't." + +So Shelby told them. + +"Mr. Crane telephoned me," he said, "only about half an hour ago. He +said the doctor found that Gilbert was poisoned, either by himself----" + +"Oh, he never did it himself!" Carlotta cried out. "Why should he? He +was just on the eve of the great competition,--and he was so excited +about it, and so hopeful,--it's absurd to say he killed himself!" + +"Of course it is," agreed Julie. "But are they sure it was poison? Mac +thought it was acute indigestion,--or a stroke, or something like that." + +"No," Shelby said. "Mr. Crane said there was no doubt about it, I mean +about the poisoning. But don't be too sure that Gilbert didn't take it +himself. It might have been by mistake, you know. And anyway it's a +mistake to theorize much until we know more of the details. I'm going up +to Blair's place. Coming along, Thorpe?" + +"No,--no,--I don't believe I will,--I'll stay here a while, if Mrs. +Crane will let me." + +"Of course," said Mrs. Crane, in her kind, motherly way, "Mac is all +broken up. And no wonder! The shock of finding Gilbert dead----" + +"Oh, Mr. Thorpe, did you make the discovery?" exclaimed Carlotta. "How +awful! I don't wonder you're upset. Yes, Kit, you go up to Gilbert's. +There may be something you can do." + +Shelby went away, and when he reached the studio the first one to greet +him was Mr. Crane. + +"Hello, Shelby, I'm glad you came. This is a bad business." + +"Tell me all about it,--I know only the main fact,--of Gilbert's death." + +"Yes, that's the main fact, and the next one in importance is that the +boy was poisoned. It's not known whether he took the poison himself or +whether----" + +"But how? I mean, what are the circumstances?" + +"Come on in,--the police are here and the doctor. Listen to them." + +The two went into the familiar studio, the big room where Blair and his +friends had so often forgathered with jests and laughter. + +There were two doctors there and two or three men from the Police +Department. + +The Medical Examiner was talking. + +"It's one of those cases," he said, "where there seem to be no clews at +all. The autopsy revealed the mere fact that Mr. Blair was poisoned by +prussic acid, taken into the stomach. But there is no evidence in the +way of a glass or container of any sort, there is no odor of prussic +acid about his lips, no real reason to suspect foul play, and yet no +apparent reason to think he killed himself. It may have been an +accident, yet I can see no real evidence of that. It's mysterious from +the very lack of anything suspicious." + +"Was he--was he in bed?" asked Shelby, who had heard no detail of +Thorpe's finding the body. + +"Yes," said Doctor Middleton, the Examiner. "It seems his room-mate +found him, in bed, in his night-wear, and immediately called the doorman +of the house." + +"And then Thorpe lit out," remarked Detective Weston. "I want to see +him." + +"Oh, Thorpe's all right," said Mr. Crane. "He's down at my house. I'll +vouch for him. You needn't look that way for the criminal,--if there is +a criminal." + +"I should say not!" declared Shelby. "McClellan Thorpe and Mr. Blair +were the greatest friends." + +"But I can't think Gilbert was killed," Mr. Crane went on. "Seems to me +if that were the case, there'd be some evidence of an intruder. And as +Gilbert has no friends,--I mean no relatives or family in the city, I'll +take up the matter myself. I'd like a thorough investigation, not so +much to prove there was a criminal as to prove there wasn't one. I don't +think there was, but I'd like a search made for any light that can be +thrown on the matter." + +"Oh, we'll investigate all right," said Weston; "I think somebody bumped +the man off. I don't see any possibility for an accident, but it's more +like suicide to me." + +"Let's look around a bit," said Shelby. "I'm with you, Mr. Crane, in +assuming responsibility. Why, who is there to take charge of Gilbert's +things,--his estate?" + +"It's hardly a big enough matter to call an estate," Crane said; "of +course, I know more or less of Blair's affairs, and he wasn't by any +means affluent. Indeed, his hopes of the prize in the coming competition +represented his chief asset." + +"Thought he'd get a prize, did he?" said Weston, "for what?" + +"For his architectural design," Crane answered. "He was working hard, +and was hopeful. That's why I feel sure he never killed himself." + +"Here are his designs," said Shelby, as he opened a big portfolio. "Why +don't you take these, Mr. Crane, and take them home with you. They're +really valuable." + +"Of course they are,--I'll do that," agreed the older man. "Blair has a +sister, somewhere out West. If anything comes of the drawings, it will +be hers." + +"Can you get in touch with his family?" asked Middleton. + +"Don't know anything about them," Crane returned. "I suppose there must +be letters or an address book or some such matters in Blair's desk. +Thorpe may know more about it than I do." + +"Thorpe may know a lot of things," suggested Weston. "Better get him up +here, I say." + +"All right," Benjamin Crane said, after a moment's pause. "He's down at +my house,--I'll telephone him to come up here now." + +But when connection was made it transpired that Thorpe had left the +Crane house and nobody knew where he was. + +"Looks bad," said Weston, shortly. "Why'd he run away?" + +"See here, Mr. Weston," Crane said, "if you've any suspicion against +McClellan Thorpe just put it out of your mind. He had no hand in Mr. +Blair's death----" + +"I didn't say he had." + +"I know you didn't, but you implied it, and I want to quash any such +suggestion at once." + +"It's absurd," Shelby agreed. "You don't know the friendship that +existed between the two men. Why, they were fellow architects and have +lived here together for over two years. They were like brothers." + +"That's all right, but why did Thorpe run away?" + +"He hasn't run away!" Crane said, "what a ridiculous charge! Merely +because he left my house, you say he's run away! He's probably on his +way up here. This is his home." + +"Well, until he gets here, I'll look around his room a bit," Weston +remarked, and as he went into Thorpe's bedroom, Crane followed. + +There was nothing sinister there. Merely the usual appointments, and +rather plain ones, for the young architects were not of luxurious tastes +or means. + +With a practiced eye and deft hand, Weston went through dresser drawers, +and cupboard shelves. Looked into the books on the night table, and in a +short time had satisfied himself that there was no evidence apparent, so +far. + +Into the bathroom next, they all went. This the two men shared, and the +detective scrutinized the glasses and brushes that were on shelves, +either side of the wash stand. They were of tidy appearance and +presented merely the array that might be expected. + +Weston sniffed hard at the glasses, but could detect no untoward odors, +nor any sign of poison or drugs of any sort. + +The small white cupboard on the wall showed only a few bottles +containing toilet appurtenances and simple medicines. + +"Witch Hazel, Peroxide, Talcum powder, Cholera mixture and soda mints," +he said, from the various labels,--"hello, here's laudanum! How about +that?" + +"No," Doctor Middleton declared, "it wasn't laudanum poisoning. It was +prussic acid. The effects are quite different, and there's no mistaking +them. I don't know what the young men were doing with laudanum, but it +wasn't that that killed Mr. Blair." + +"Curious, to have poison around at all," said Shelby, musingly. + +"Gives a hint of intended suicide," suggested Weston. "Though not +necessarily----" + +"I should say not!" broke in Benjamin Crane. "Gilbert Blair wasn't +coward enough to take his own life for any reason. Why, he was my son's +friend. It was an accident,--and the fact of finding that other poison +about, points toward accident, to my mind." + +"Just how do you make that out, Mr. Crane?" asked Weston, with a slight +smile. + +"Why"--began Crane, a little lamely--"I'm not sure that I can explain, +but it appeared to me that if Blair had one poison in his possession, he +might have had the other, and----" + +"How do you know this laudanum was Mr. Blair's possession?" asked +Weston. "Might it not have been Mr. Thorpe's?" + +"How you hark back to Thorpe!" exclaimed Crane, with real petulance. "I +wish you'd stop it, Weston. If you've a definite suspicion that he +killed Gilbert Blair, say so, but don't throw out these silly hints." + +"Nothing especially silly about them, Mr. Crane," the detective was +quite unruffled, "only I hold that the poison we've just found is quite +as likely to be Mr. Thorpe's as Mr. Blair's. That's all." + +"Of course it is," Shelby said, placatingly, "but that's neither here +nor there. If you have reason to think Mr. Blair was murdered, you've +reason to look for the criminal. But I don't think you've proved it was +not an accident, and until you do, it's well to be careful how you throw +suspicion about." + +"It's not so easy to prove an accident,--or a murder, either,--when +there's practically no clew to be found. Therefore, it's our duty to +question any one who can give any material evidence, especially one who +was presumably the last one to see Mr. Blair alive." + +"Except the murderer,--if there was one," said Shelby. + +"Yes, and if he was not the murderer himself," grunted Weston. + +"Send for that doorman," said Middleton, a bit curtly. "Let's get +somewhere." + +Hastings, being summoned, appeared, and told all he knew, which was +little, and all he surmised, which was more. + +"Yes," he said, "Mr. Thorpe called me, this morning, and when I came, he +was all of a shiver. He sat on the edge of that chair there, and his +teeth chattered and his voice shook----" + +"Small wonder!" said Crane. "Mac is a very nervous man, and a shock such +as he must have had----" + +"Go on, Hastings," ordered Doctor Middleton. + +"Well, Mr. Thorpe said Mr. Blair was ill, and told me to go in and see +him. Now, of course, Mr. Thorpe knew Mr. Blair was dead, but he said he +was ill. Why did he do that?" + +"Tell your story," said Crane, scowling at him. "Don't ask fool +questions as you go along!" + +"Yes, sir. Well, I went in and I saw Mr. Blair was dead. And I told Mr. +Thorpe so, and he didn't seem surprised, but he was all of a blue funk, +and he said, 'Well,--get a doctor--or whatever is the thing to do.' Just +like that. He didn't show any grief or any sorrow,--only just seemed +scared to death." + +"And he didn't show any surprise?" This from Middleton. + +"Of course he didn't!" Crane cried; "of course he knew Blair was dead +when he called Hastings. I know Thorpe, and he's a most nervous +temperament. And when he called for help, as of course he had to do, it +was the most natural thing in the world for him to say that Mr. Blair +was ill. Nor would he be apt to show his grief then and there. He was +stunned, and moreover, he's not the man to talk over his sorrow with the +janitor! I say Thorpe acted as any of us would do in the same +circumstances. Now, I for one, object to having him misjudged." + +"You're a good champion, Mr. Crane," said Doctor Middleton, "and I don't +blame you for standing up for your friend. But he'll have to speak for +himself,--Mr. Thorpe will,--and the sooner we get hold of him the +better." + +"I agree to all that," Crane replied, "all I ask is that he shall not be +condemned unheard." + +"That's reasonable enough," granted Middleton, "but we must get hold of +him soon." + +"He'll come back here," Mr. Crane assured them. "He hasn't run away, as +you seem to think, but he has a natural aversion to this place, and I +shouldn't be surprised if he stayed away for a few days." + +"A few days! Where would he stay?" asked the Examiner. + +"Probably at his Club." + +"Which Club? I'll call it up and see if he's there now," Weston said, +briskly. + +"The Artists' Club. Call it, and they'll tell you something about him, +I'm sure." + +Weston called the Club and received word that Thorpe was there. + +"Ask him to speak to me," he ordered, and in a moment he was talking to +Thorpe himself. + +"Yes, I'll come home right away," Thorpe agreed, when urgently invited +to do so. + +"I told you so," said Crane, triumphantly; "that man had no thought of +running away, but he dreads this place just now. He's of a sensitive, +nervous nature, and I hope, Mr. Weston, you'll be decent to him. No +third degree manners,--that won't help with McClellan Thorpe." + +They all remained awaiting Thorpe's return. Shelby busied himself +looking over some of Blair's books and papers, while Benjamin Crane +talked to Dr. Middleton. + +He rather liked the Medical Examiner, but he did not at all admire +detective Weston or his ways. So he endeavored to give Doctor Middleton +a mental picture of Thorpe, and prepare him for an interview that should +temper justice with mercy, or at least, consideration. + +Weston spent the time prowling round Blair's bedroom in search of clews. +But his keen glances could find no single thing that gave any hint of +means or reason for suicide, nor any that suggested an accident. + +"Wherefore," he concluded to himself, "it's a murder. No clew, means a +careful removal of any clew,--and a mighty clever criminal at that. +Maybe it wasn't friend Thorpe, but a few words with him will convince me +one way or the other." + +Thorpe came, and though his expression was inscrutable and his face set +and stern, it seemed to those who knew him best that he was trying to +hold himself together and not give way to his nervousness. + +"Take a seat, Mr. Thorpe," Doctor Middleton said, courteously, after +Crane had introduced them; "we expect from you a straightforward account +of all you can tell us of your experiences this morning." + +"Why should my account be other than straightforward?" Thorpe said, +breathing hard, and making an evident effort at self-control. "I have +nothing to conceal, and if I seem distraught, it is, I dare say, not +astonishing." + +"Now, Mac," Mr. Crane said, kindly, "don't bristle. We're all your +friends, and we only want you----" + +"Good heavens, Mr. Crane, why do you take that conciliatory attitude? +I've no confession to make,-- I-- I didn't kill Blair----" + +"Why do you say that?" cried Weston. "Who even hinted that you killed +Mr. Blair? Why do you think anybody killed him?" + +"Why do you?" countered Thorpe, turning an angry glance at the +detective. + +"I haven't said I did." + +"Not in so many words,--but you imply it. I tell you I didn't kill him! +I _didn't_!" + +Thorpe was not excited of manner, he was very calm, but his blazing eyes +and quivering mouth, and his intensity, rather than force of speech gave +him the effect of intense excitement. + +"Don't deny or assert, Mr. Thorpe," said Middleton, coldly. "Just tell +your story. At what time did you rise?" + +"About ten o'clock," was the short reply. + +"And then?" + +"Then I bathed, shaved and dressed just as usual. I generally dress +before Mr. Blair, and I thought nothing of his silence." + +"His bedroom door was closed?" + +"Yes; then, after I was dressed and about to go out to my breakfast, I +called to him through the door." + +"What did you say?" + +"I can't repeat the exact words, but it was only to the effect of +'good-by, old chap,' or maybe, 'I'm off, Blair,' or something of the +sort." + +"And you went on?" + +"I didn't hear him reply,--he usually says, 'All right, Mac,' so I +repeated my call. Then, when he didn't respond that time, I knocked at +his door." + +"Fearing something was wrong?" + +"N-no,--not wrong,-- I think I just wanted him to say something----" + +"Why were you so anxious he should say something?" This last from +Weston, with a direct glance. + +"Why, good Lord, man," Thorpe's eyes blazed, "because I am accustomed to +a reply, and when it didn't come, I naturally wondered why." + +"Didn't you think he might merely be asleep?" + +"I didn't think anything about that. I acted on impulse. I didn't hear +him, and I wanted to see him." + +"And you did? You opened the door?" + +"Yes, after I knocked twice,--then I-- I opened his door." + +"It was not locked?" + +"No; we never lock our bedroom doors." + +"Go on,--and then?" + +"Then"--Thorpe spoke slowly, as if choosing his words--"then, I saw him +lying in the bed,--still,--as if asleep. I went closer, and I saw by the +look on his face that he was dead." + +"You knew that at once?" asked Middleton. "You didn't think he was only +asleep----" + +"No,--the pallor was unmistakable----" + +"Have you often looked upon death?" + +"Never before,--except at a funeral." + +"And yet you knew at once it was death you saw,--not sleep. That is +remarkable, Mr. Thorpe." + +Thorpe met Middleton's eyes, and then his own fell. + +"I can't help that, Doctor," he said; "I was sure,--that is,--almost +sure Mr. Blair was dead." + +"Yet you called Hastings and told him Mr. Blair was ill." + +"Yes,--I couldn't seem to say the--the other----" + +"Why did you kill him, Mr. Thorpe?" + +"I-- I kill him! Oh, I didn't!-- I told you I didn't!" + +"Yes; but we can't believe you." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Evidence + + +The few days following Gilbert Blair's death were like a nightmare to +his friends. A search of his papers had revealed a probable address of +his mother, but a telegram sent there had as yet brought no reply and +though a letter was despatched, no answer could be expected to that for +a week or more. + +Meantime, by general consent, Benjamin Crane took charge of Blair's +affairs. The funeral took place in an undertaker's establishment and the +body was placed in a receiving vault, until Blair's people could be +heard from. His immediate possessions remained in the studio rooms, for +the lease had still six months to run, and the police objected to any +removal of the dead man's effects. It was practically impossible to seal +them up as Thorpe occupied the same rooms, but a strict surveillance was +kept, and Weston doggedly asserted he would yet track down the murderer. + +For no one could doubt Blair had been murdered. On the eve of the prize +competition, in which he was so deeply interested,--on the eve, as he +hoped, of being engaged to Carlotta Harper, whom he loved, full of life +and energy, why should he kill himself? It was impossible to accept the +theory of suicide, and the detectives were hard at work on the case. + +McClellan Thorpe was suspected, but as there was no evidence against +him, save his indubitable and exclusive opportunity, he had not as yet +been arrested. + +"His opportunity was not exclusive," Mr. Crane contended. "Those studio +apartments are not burglar proof! Anybody might have got in during the +night and administered the poison." + +"No," Weston objected. "It would be practically impossible for any one +to go into those rooms, force or persuade Blair to swallow poison and +get away without being heard by Mr. Thorpe or without leaving any trace +of his presence." + +"Well, look here, Weston," Mr. Crane spoke very seriously, "you know me +well enough to know I've no notion of evading justice for anybody. But +knowing McClellan Thorpe as I do, and knowing his peculiar temperament, +I wish you'd let him alone,--at least, until you have a bit of +indisputable evidence." + +"I've got it, Mr. Crane." + +"What?" + +The two were sitting in Benjamin Crane's library, where they often met +to talk over the case. Julie was present, for she wanted to know every +detail of any discovery that might be made. + +"I don't believe it!" she flared out at the detective's statement. + +"Yes, Miss Crane," Weston said, "I found a pretty suspicious +circumstance to-day. Nothing less than a very small bottle, without cork +or label, but smelling unmistakably of prussic acid." + +"Where was it?" demanded Crane. + +"Hidden in an old and unused paint-box of McClellan Thorpe's." + +"Where was the paint-box?" + +"'Way back, on a cupboard shelf. Pushed back, behind a pile of old +books." + +"Planted evidence," suggested Crane. "The real criminal put it there to +incriminate Mr. Thorpe." + +"Not a chance!" said Weston, smiling. "I've had that place watched too +closely for that, sir! Nobody could get in to plant evidence, or to do +anything else without being seen by my men. No, sir, that bottle in Mr. +Thorpe's paint-box was put there by his own hand, and it will prove his +undoing." + +"But it's absurd!" flashed Julie. "Mr. Thorpe never killed his +friend,--but if he had done so, he wouldn't be fool enough to leave such +evidence around!" + +"He couldn't help himself, Miss Crane. When he used the bottle that +night, he had to secrete it somewhere, and since then he has been too +closely watched to dare to take it from its hiding-place and dispose of +it." + +"But I don't see how he could have done it," Crane objected. "How could +he persuade Blair to take a dose of poison?" + +"Oh, in lots of ways. Say, they had a highball or that,--all he had to +do was to drop the tiniest speck from the little vial into the drink. He +could easily do that unobserved. Anyway, he did do it. Then, of course, +afterward, he had ample chance to clean the glasses and remove every +trace of crime, except that he had to conceal the bottle. This he did in +the most obvious way. Exactly the way any one would try to secrete such +a thing. The bottle had been emptied and washed, but that poison has +such an enduring odor that it is practically impossible to eliminate it +entirely. But there's the fact, Mr. Crane, now, unless another suspect +can be found, it's all up with Mr. Thorpe." + +"Then we'll find another suspect!" exclaimed Julie. + +"Go ahead, Miss. I'll investigate your new man, as soon as you name him. +That's the important part of this affair, there's no chance of another +suspect. No one has been so much as thought of----" + +"That doorman?" said Julie. + +"Nixy! He had no motive, no opportunity,--and there's not the slightest +reason to suspect him." + +"Some outsider, then," went on Julie, desperately, "some fellow artist, +who feared Gilbert would win that prize----" + +"Miss Crane, you must know that's the motive attributed to Mr. Thorpe. +You must know that he and Mr. Blair were rivals in that competition +and----" + +Julie's eyes flashed fire. "And you mean to say that he killed his +friend,--his chum,--in order to be sure of winning the prize!" + +"That's the motive we're assuming. But there was doubtless a scrap,--a +row about the pictures or drawings,--in fact,-- I hate to tell you these +things, but we have learned that there was bad blood between the two +men, for each thought the other had imitated his own ideas. This brought +about more or less dissension, and--well, probably both men lost their +temper, and real hatred ensued." + +Weston tried to adapt his language so as to spare Julie's feelings as +much as possible, for the girl was highly wrought up, and he was +genuinely sorry for her. He knew of the state of things between her and +Thorpe, knew, too, that it explained Benjamin Crane's determination to +free Thorpe from suspicion, if it could be done. + +But Crane was staggered by the disclosure of the hidden vial. + +"It's a clew," he said, but he spoke slowly and thoughtfully. + +"Yes, it's a clew," agreed Weston, "and it will convict the criminal. +The label,--if it ever had one,--has been washed off. The cork is +missing,--and, by the way, if that cork could be found it would help a +lot! But all the same, I've a notion I can trace that bottle to its +source." + +"How?" asked Crane. "Is it of a peculiar shape or style?" + +"No; just a common, ordinary two-ounce bottle, such as most druggists +use all the time. But there's no name blown in it,--that's important, +for many dealers have their names on their glassware, and a blank bottle +is conspicuous of itself." + +"Conspicuous by its rarity,--but not therefore traceable," said Mr. +Crane. + +"Perhaps so,--by elimination----" + +"Nonsense!" Julie cried; "you can't trace it, and you know it! You're +just making believe,--you're what do you call it? framing a case! you're +railroading McClellan Thorpe to prison! I won't have it! Father, surely +you can do something! You _must_!" + +Stifling her sobs, Julie ran out of the room. + +There was an uncomfortable silence and then Benjamin Crane said: + +"You see what a hard position I'm in, Weston." + +"Yes, sir." + +"But of course," Crane sighed deeply, "justice must be done,--only I beg +of you, Weston, use every effort to find another suspect,--a logical +one,--now, don't misunderstand me! I mean, if there can possibly be a +doubt of Thorpe's guilt, and a chance of another man's guilt,--for +Heaven's sake find that other man!" + +"Not a chance." + +"But, at least, keep an open mind. And spare no expense. Get a special +detective,--a big one,--there now, don't bristle! I don't suppose you +think yourself the cleverest in the world, do you? Don't you admit any +superior? If so, get him; if not, then prove your own worth. I repeat, I +want no undue favor shown to McClellan Thorpe, but if he is not the +guilty man, then I want you to move heaven and earth to find the real +criminal. Can't you conceive, Weston, of a murderer so clever as to have +committed the crime, planted the vial as evidence against Thorpe and +made his escape leaving no clew?" + +"I can conceive of such a thing, sir, as I can conceive of a ghost,--but +there is no evidence for either conception." + +"Evidence enough for ghosts, Weston! Haven't you read my book?" + +"Oh, I clean forgot that book you wrote, Mr. Crane. No, I haven't read +it, but my folks have, and I dare say you do believe in spooks. But, +come, now, you don't believe a spook killed Mr. Blair, do you, sir?" + +"No,--and yet, it is within the bounds of possibility----" + +"Not as the police count possibility! There's small chance of any human +agency other than Mr. Thorpe, but far less chance of a supernatural +agent! I'll be getting along, Mr. Crane, if you're going off on that +track." + +"Hold on, Weston, I'm in earnest about this special detective. Suppose I +engage a private one. Can you and he work in harmony?" + +"Oh, yes, I'm not pig-headed. So long as he don't interfere too much, or +get me into any scrapes with his highfalutin tricks,--which they all +have, go ahead and get him. I'll do my own duty, as I see it and as it's +dictated to me by Headquarters; but if you want to engage a dozen +private detectives, there's no law against it. And, sir, I'm free to +confess I feel mighty sorry for that pretty daughter of yours, and if +anybody else can save her man for her, when I can't--why, let him at +it!" + +"Good for you, Weston, I hoped you'd be above petty jealousy. Go on, +now, and see if you can't connect up that empty vial with somebody whose +name isn't Thorpe,--and, I say, you're not going to arrest him yet, are +you?" + +"Not just yet,--but,--well, I'll let you know--soon, where we stand." + +His visitor gone, Benjamin Crane put on his hat and went at once to see +Madame Parlato. He had acquired the habit of an interview with her when +anything bothered him, and his faith in her powers was unshaken. + +His request for a _seance_ was granted, for since the book of Benjamin +Crane's had made such a success, the medium was besieged with patrons, +yet she always gave Crane the preference over other sitters. + +Admitted to the private sanctum, Crane told the Madame he wished to +learn anything possible concerning the death of Gilbert Blair. + +The medium went into a trance as usual, and after a short interval, +announced in her low monotone that the spirit of Peter Crane was +present. + +"My boy," said Crane, eagerly, "do you know who killed Blair?" + +"Yes, father," came the reply, through the voice of Madame Parlato; "do +not seek further than you already know." + +"You mean it was----" + +Benjamin Crane hesitated. He was a cautious man, and often as he had had +this sort of interviews with Peter's spirit, he was always particular to +give no information unnecessarily. + +"Yes,--dad,--it was." + +"Well, who? who, Peter?" + +"Must I say the name?" + +"Yes, boy. But only if you're sure you know. It would be a grave error +otherwise." + +The medium stirred uneasily, and was silent for a time. Then, with a +long drawn sigh, she resumed, "Well, father, if I must tell you, it was +Thorpe." + +"Oh, Peter, not really!" + +"Yes, dad. Don't look any further,--it was Thorpe." + +The medium was silent after that. She came out of her trance state, +looking a little bewildered. + +"Did you get anything?" she asked, for, as she had frequently told her +sitter, she herself knew nothing of what transpired while she was +unconscious. + +"Yes," Crane returned, and knowing there would be no further +communication that day, he went home. + +He found Thorpe there, discussing the matter with Mrs. Crane and Julie. + +"I don't know what to do," Thorpe said, as Mr. Crane joined the group. +"I didn't kill Blair,--at least, I don't think I did." + +"What does that mean?" Crane asked. + +"Only that if I did do it, it was unconsciously." + +"In your sleep?" + +"No; but under hypnotism. I've not much belief in that sort of +thing,--but,--well, you know about occult matters, might it not be +possible?" + +Benjamin Crane was disappointed. He had hoped for a vigorous denial on +Thorpe's part, but this halfway confession seemed to him a mere quibble. +He found himself believing the man guilty and that he was using this +hypnotism suggestion as a last resort to prove innocence. + +"Stop it, father!" Julie cried. "You are thinking Mac did do it, having +been hypnotized by somebody! Well, he didn't! and I _know_ he didn't +and I'll _prove_ it!" + +"Good talk, Julie, but does it mean anything!" asked her father, giving +her a look of gentle sadness. + +"I'll make it mean something! That thick-witted detective doesn't know a +thing! Now, I don't believe in the hypnotism theory----" + +"Why, Julie," said her mother, "I've heard you say you believed in +hypnotism!" + +"Oh, yes, I do, but I mean not in this case. Nobody hypnotized McClellan +to kill Gilbert. I'm sure of that, and I wish you wouldn't repeat it, +Mac. People will only laugh at you." + +"Well, what are you going to do, my child?" asked her father. + +"Oh, I don't know! I'm desperate,-- I will find out something!" + +"Of course you will, Julie, for I'll help you." + +It was Thorpe who spoke, and he seemed to have suddenly acquired a new +energy. + +"I'm going to turn detective myself," he went on. "We'll work together, +Julie, and,-- Mr. Crane, if we succeed,-- I mean succeed in freeing +myself from suspicion----" + +"And finding the real criminal," put in Crane with a very serious face. + +"Yes, and find the real criminal," but Thorpe's face was less bright, +"then, sir, will you give us your blessing?" + +"Yes, McClellan," but Crane's voice had no hearty ring, "yes, when you +are a free man in every sense of the word, you may take my little girl +for your own." + +Thorpe gave him a searching look. "I can't help seeing, Mr. Crane," he +said, "that you think,--or perhaps I may say, you fear I am guilty. I +hope I can prove to you that I am not." + +Crane noticed the wording of his speech. Thorpe hoped to prove to +him,--but he didn't say he was innocent. + +And Benjamin Crane believed the man guilty. Greatly influenced by what +he had heard at the _seance_ with the medium, Crane was still willing to +be convinced to the contrary, but Thorpe's own attitude and words did +not carry conviction. + +"Well, my children," Crane said at last, "here's my proposition. I can't +think your determination to do detective work will produce much fruit. +Now, if you like, I'll engage the best detective I can find and put him +on the job. What say, Thorpe?" + +It was a test question, and Crane eagerly awaited the answer. If Thorpe +were really innocent, he would welcome the clever sleuthing that would +be likely to unearth the truth. + +But he was disappointed to hear Thorpe say, "Not yet, Mr. Crane. Give us +a chance. Let me try,--let us try,"--with a glance at Julie--"give us a +few days, at least,--then, if we gain nothing,--then bring on your +detective." + +"But,-- I hate to say it, Mac, though I dare say you know it,--you may +be arrested any day now." + +Thorpe gave a start, and the sudden pallor that came to his face showed +how the idea affected him. + +"Oh, not that,--hardly that----" + +"Yes, it's imminent." Crane thought best to tell him this. "They--they +say they've got the goods on you, Mac." + +"What--what do you mean by that?" + +"Well," Crane couldn't bring himself to tell of the poison bottle, +"well, my boy, they say that you and Blair quarreled." + +"We did." + +"Over the sketches for the prizes?" + +"Yes, over those, and over other matters." + +"When was this?" + +"We'd been scrapping off and on for some time. Nothing very serious. +But,--well, when Gilbert implied that I had used his ideas, I--I got +mad." + +"And saw red?" + +"Yes, I suppose that's what they call it." + +"The night he--he died?" + +"Yes." + +"Mac," Benjamin Crane looked grave, "suppose you tell me just what +happened that night." + +"Well,--we'd all been to the Club to dinner, you know." + +"Yes." + +"And when we went home, Bob Knight went with us. He was irritating, +somehow,--said he heard Blair and I had combined on our work----" + +"Why was that annoying?" + +"Oh, it implied that Gilbert and I took each other's ideas, or +something,-- I don't know,--anyway, he stirred us up, and when he went +off, Gil and I were touchy. We had some words, and Blair tore up his +sketches, a-and--tore up some of mine, too." + +"He did! No wonder you were annoyed." + +"Yes; they were the ones I had ready,--or, almost ready, to send in." + +"Go on," said Crane, briefly. + +"Well, there's little more to tell. I went into my bedroom and slammed +the door. Yes, I slammed it, for I had lost my temper, and I was mad at +Blair." + +"And then?" + +"I don't know anything more to tell. I heard Blair around the studio for +a time, and once I heard his footsteps near my door, as if he wanted to +speak to me,--maybe make up,--but he didn't say anything or knock, or +call out,--and then, after a time I heard him go into his own bedroom +and close the door." + +"And you heard nothing through the night?" + +"Nothing unusual. The ordinary sounds in the building, of course." + +"And you stayed in your room,--in your bed,--till morning?" + +"Yes, I did. I sleep very soundly, and I sleep late. The details of the +morning, and my finding of Blair,--you know. Don't ask me to recount +all that again." + +"No; I shan't. Are you going on with your work for the competition?" + +"Of course!" Thorpe's face showed surprise at the question. "Why should +I not? I rescued the torn sketches from the waste-basket, and I can copy +them. I've a good chance at it, I think." + +"Now that Blair's out of the running?" + +Thorpe looked up angrily, but as suddenly he became calm. "No, Mr. +Crane," he said, "not because of that. But because Gilbert can't steal +my plans." + +"Unpleasant talk, Mac. I don't like that." + +"But it's true. Blair did take my ideas----" + +"Consciously?" + +"I think so. Why, he incorporated in his design, a particular bit of +drawing that I had invented and shown to him only a day or two before." + +"You must see, McClellan, that your saying that puts a bad face on the +whole affair?" + +"I suppose it does," and the man again relapsed into moody silence. "Oh, +well,--it's all in a lifetime." + +"A lifetime that has just ended,--or one still being lived?" Benjamin +Crane spoke like an avenging justice, and there was no mistaking his +meaning. + +But beyond a startled glance, Thorpe made no reply. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +Carlotta and the Board + + +Much as Benjamin Crane desired to believe in Thorpe's innocence it was +difficult for him to do so, after the disclosure of the medium, Madame +Parlato. In her powers he had absolute faith, of her honesty and +sincerity he was entirely confident, and it was largely the accounts of +her _seances_ that made the bulk of his book about his son's +communications with him. The _seances_ were frequent, still, and at each +one he gained more material for use in a second book. + +The book, the one already published, was in its fourth edition and was +still having large sales. It was called "A Prophecy Fulfilled," and +dealt with the old prophecy of the gypsy,--that Peter should be lost +while on a distant journey, should die a terrible death there, but +should mysteriously return to his family. + +This, Benjamin Crane held, had been accomplished in full. The long +journey, the terrible death, were matters of fact, and Mr. and Mrs. +Crane believed that the return of their son was equally a matter of +fact. + +Wherefore, the book was written in a simple, straightforward style, +without excitement or exaggeration, and it gave detailed recitals of the +happenings at the _seances_. + +Needless to say that the medium was besieged with would-be clients, but +she accepted very few, for the Cranes claimed most of her time. Not that +they were continually in her presence, but the exhaustive nature of her +trances made it impossible for her to devote many hours a day to their +practice. And Benjamin Crane made it quite worth her while, financially, +to reserve for him her peculiar talents. + +The sessions brought forth little that was new or different, but the +parents never tired of what they implicitly believed was absolute direct +communication with their son's spirit through the personality of Madame +Parlato. + +Criticism, disapproval, even ridicule from their friends and +acquaintances moved them not a jot from their faith and trust. + +Wiser and better people than we, believe in it,--they would argue,--and +it is now so much a part of our lives, that I think we could scarcely +live without it. + +And so, they went along, cheered and made happy by the communications +and fully reconciled thereby to the death of their cherished son. + +Julie, though never quite satisfied of the truth of the whole matter, +had become more or less imbued with the atmosphere that she lived in, +and aside from her own feelings, was glad that her parents could be +happy in their grief, even though it were a delusion. + +And the popularity of this book brought him absorbing work and many +outside interests to Benjamin Crane. Continually, people came to see +him, to discuss the question of Continuity, or Life after Death, and to +argue for or against the reappearance of departed spirits. + +Many of these he saw and learned to like and his circle of acquaintances +was continually enlarging. + +Naturally, when he discussed matters with them, the subject of Gilbert +Blair's death was talked of. Crane was a careful man, and rarely told +what happened at his _seances_, save in a general way. For he had +learned of the dangers of having his statements misquoted and +exaggerated, and as a rule, he was canny enough to let his visitors +talk, while he said little. + +And from the consensus of opinion thus gathered, he discovered that +public sentiment was largely against McClellan Thorpe. This troubled +him, for if Thorpe were guilty it was surely Crane's duty to guard his +daughter from a criminal. On the other hand, Julie was so deeply in love +with Thorpe, and so positive that he was in no way a wrong-doer, that +the father's heart was torn. + +But his most vital reason for believing in Thorpe's guilt was the +message from his son to that effect. + +"It rests between our two children," he said to his wife. "Peter tells +us Mac is the guilty man,--and Julie tells us he isn't. Now, we must +learn the truth. I'm going to get a detective, myself,-- I've had a fine +one recommended,--and I don't think we need say anything to Julie or Mac +about it. They asked for a few days to do some 'detecting' on their own +account,--but it won't amount to anything, I feel sure. So I'm going to +engage Pennington Wise,--if I can get him. I'm told he's a most +successful man, though not one of the 'wizards' or know-it-all variety." + +"Very well," Mrs. Crane, as always, agreed; "but don't tell anybody. +Need you?" + +"Yes, I'll tell Weston. It wouldn't be fair not to. You see, I'm in a +peculiar position. I've taken the responsibility of investigating +Blair's death, without any real authority, save that of a friend." + +"Of course your reason is that Julie cares for him." + +"Of course. And I do hope he can be cleared, but if not, it would better +be proved against him, and let Julie know it, and get over it." + +"Yes," Mrs. Crane sighed. "Poor child, it would go hard with her." + +"But she must bear it, if it's the truth. I've hopes of Wise's +discovering another criminal." + +"Then what about Peter's message?" + +"I don't know,--but it's possible Peter may himself be misinformed. You +know we've discovered that the disembodied spirits are not omniscient." + +In the meantime Carlotta Harper was endeavoring to use her occult powers +to solve the mystery of Blair's death. + +Carlotta herself was a mystery. Disavowing any especial clairvoyant +ability, she yet achieved marvelous results from the Ouija Board. + +She scoffed at it herself, yet whenever her finger-tips were on the +board it spelled words rapidly and gave messages that were acclaimed as +truth by the audience. + +One afternoon Shelby was with her, and he, a little timidly, suggested a +trial of the Board. + +"Why, Kit, I thought you detested it," said Carly, surprised. + +"I do; but you're a witch at it, and--suppose it should tell us +something about Blair,--something we don't know----" + +"You think Mac did it, don't you?" Carly spoke hesitantly, for the two +had discussed the subject very little. + +"I don't say so, Carly, yet where else is there to look? If you had +seen, as I did, how much at odds the two chaps were that evening I +dropped in----" + +"The night of the dinner?" + +"Yes, in the late afternoon. They were rowing no end! Then I went off, +but I called for them on the way to the feast,--we always go +together,--and Blair was in a regular stew. Nervous,--couldn't get his +tie right,--and all that. And--Carly,--what do you think? He asked me if +I'd drop you! Think of that! As if I were a sort of man to interfere +with a friend's interests! Why, if he'd told me there was anything +between you two, of course I should have stepped down and out at once. +Was there, Carly?" + +"Nothing definite,--no." The girl spoke wearily, pushing back her thick +mass of dark, wavy hair. "No, Kit, nothing promised. If he had +lived--oh, I don't know. You see, I loved Peter. And I sometimes think I +never can care at all for any one else." + +"But, dear, Peter's dead and Blair's dead,--and you can't live all your +life alone: Just give me a ray of hope, Carly. I won't bother you about +it,--only tell me that some time,--maybe----" + +"Let it stay at that, Kit. Some time it may be--and now come on,--if you +like we'll try the Ouija." + +The session was interesting. Carly never, in any circumstances, pushed +or guided the board in the very least,--nor did she ever sit with any +one whom she suspected of doing so. But with her friends in whom she had +perfect confidence, or with acquaintances who, she knew were eagerly +wanting to learn, not anxious to tell, she often tried the uncanny +thing. + +Lightly they rested their finger-tips on the little wooden heart, and +after a short wait it began to move. + +At Carly's questions, replies came that there was a spirit present and +that it was Peter Boots. + +Neither of the inquirers was surprised at this, for they had fully +expected it. Moreover, both had watched most closely the other's muscles +and fingers and wrists, and each was positive the messages, whatever +their source, were not the result of human deceit. + +After some preliminary talk, Carly said, "You put the questions, Kit." + +So Shelby said, "Peter, you know Blair's gone?" + +"Yes," returned the board. + +"Have you seen him--or I mean, is he with you--in spirit?" + +"Yes" came the answer. + +"Will he talk to us?" + +"No." + +"Well--then can you give us a message from him?" + +"Yes." + +Yes and No are designated on the Ouija Board as words. The movement of +the Board toward these was quick, almost jerky. + +But when the message was asked for,--when Shelby said, "Will he tell us +how he died?" there was a pause and the Board moved aimlessly about. + +At last, Carly said, "Peter, was Gilbert killed?" + +"Yes," came the quick reply. + +"Do you know who killed him?" + +"Yes." + +"Who was it?" + +Carly shot out the question quickly, and immediately the board moved to +T. From that, as the two breathlessly waited, the pointer very slowly +spelled Thorpe. + +The word did not go smoothly,--the board swung round in large loops, but +paused positively at each letter, and then started slowly to the next. + +"You didn't push, Kit?" Carly asked, but more from force of habit than +any doubt of him. + +"Of course not. Nobody could push with you watching, nor was there any +reason why I should. Did you?" + +"Of course not. Don't let's ask each other that. We're both honest. But +you know, Kit, Mr. Crane had a communication from Peter and he said +Thorpe did it. But Mr. Crane thinks maybe Peter doesn't know." + +"Let's try to get Blair's spirit." + +They tried,--if receptive waiting can be called trying,--and at last +they succeeded in receiving the information that Gilbert Blair's spirit +was present. + +"Will you tell us who killed you?" Carly asked at once, fearing lest he +go away. + +Slowly the pointer moved away from the letter T. But after a series of +swirls it stopped definitely at M. + +"Go on," said Carly, in a whisper. + +A long swing of aimless motions and then a stop at A. + +The next stop was at C, and then the board would move no more. + +Carly sighed, and took her hands off. + +"Well, there's the message, Kit. You know Gilbert always called him +Mac,--now what do you think of Ouija?" + +"I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was in +both our minds, and that we subconsciously----" + +"Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to be +said. It's easy enough to say that,--but how can the dead send messages +if the human beings always say,--oh, subconscious pushing!" + +"But, are you so anxious to believe in Thorpe's guilt?" + +"Not that,--but I want to know. Julie's devoted to him, and if he's a--a +murderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,--we must find it +out, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion." + +"We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?" + +"Yes, in so far as I can help. You say, everybody says, that I have +occult powers. If so, I must use them to help,--if they really do help. +But how can I be sure?" + +"I don't know. But I think, perhaps, you'd better leave the whole +occult business alone. It's uncanny if it's real, and it's foolishness +if it's faked." + +"I think Mr. Crane is going to get a special detective," Carly said, +"but, oh, my gracious, I forgot I promised not to tell that. So don't +tell anybody else. I don't suppose they'd mind you knowing." + +"Who's the man?" + +"I think his name is Wise,--good name for a detective!" + +"Never heard of him. But, let's hope he clears Mac." + +"Yes, and finds the real murderer. Do you know I can't realize Gilbert's +gone,--even yet." + +"Don't think about him, Carly. It can't do any good, and it only makes +you sad and morbid. Let me tell you of my hopes and fears, mayn't I?" + +"Of course, go ahead." + +"Well, I'm getting up a big,--a really big enterprise." + +"What?" + +"I hope you won't disapprove, but it's in the Moving Picture business." + +"Why should I disapprove?" + +"Oh, some people sniff at M. P's. But this is a really big, fine +production." + +"Are you the producer?" + +"Yes; don't tell it outside, yet. You see, I've written a big story,--a +picturesque thriller,--and critics who've read it, think it's a wonder. +Now, it's too big to give to anybody,-- I mean, it would be foolish for +me merely to get a royalty,--so I'm going to put it on, myself." + +"Good, Kit, I'm glad to hear it. I always thought you had it in you to +be some sort of an organizer or producer, in some important way." + +"Yes, I've always had that ambition. Well, this is a great yarn! I want +to read it to you some time. Marvelous pictures,--they're being made +now. And that's not all of it,-- I mean to make it into a book----" + +"You can't write a book!" + +"If I can't I'll get it written,--but the plot is such a wonder,--and +the scenes!" + +"Up in Labrador, I'll bet!" + +"Yes, they are, Carly. And corkers! Well, I figure to have the book and +the pictures sprung on an unsuspecting public simultaneously,--and +afterward,--maybe, it will be made into a real play!" + +"And after that, into a Light Opera,--and after that, into Grand Opera?" + +Carly's tone was mocking, but her smile was sweet and approving, and Kit +beamed at her. + +"I knew you'd be interested! I want you to hear the plot soon,--and +would you like to go to the studios?" + +"Where they're making the Labrador pictures?" + +"Yes; they're faked, of course. No sense in going up there to take them. +I know the stuff so well, I can get it up right here." + +"Oh, Kit, you ought to have the real scenes." + +"No; it isn't necessary. Snow's easy enough to manage. But the plot's +the thing! Carly, it's a peach! And then, it's all done up with real +artistry. No crude, raw scenes. All softened with lights and shades and +colors; and everything,--even realism, sacrificed to beauty. It will be +the success of the season, the talk of the town, and it will make my +reputation forever." + +"When will it be put on?" + +"Soon, now, I hope. Well, I mean in a month or so. I'd like to say the +middle of May, and think perhaps I can. It will run all summer and +doubtless longer." + +"And you don't want me to tell of this?" + +"Not quite yet, Carly. I'll let you know when you may." + + * * * * * + +And so, when, after Shelby had gone, and Julie and Thorpe came, Carly +said nothing of the plans for the great Moving Picture. + +Nor did she tell of the Ouija Board experiences she and Shelby had had. +In fact, Carly said little, preferring to let her guests talk. + +And they did. + +"We're detecting," Julie began, and Thorpe, his eyes harassed and +gloomy, had to smile at Julie's enthusiasm. + +"Can I help?" Carly asked, with a loving glance at her friend. + +"I hope so,--but not with your old Ouija Board. I hate it!" + +"Wait till I suggest it," Carly smiled, for she saw Julie was in no mood +for argument. "What can I do?" + +"Only advise. I don't think you're a medium, Carly, but I do think you +have sort of queer powers. Now a queer thing has happened to me. This +morning, on my bureau, there lay a note,--here it is." She handed a +folded paper to Carlotta. + +It read: "Dear little sister. You _must_ give up old Mac. He did for +Gilbert. Peter Boots." + +Carly stared at the note. + +"It's in Peter's own writing!" she said; "what can it mean?" + +"It means fraud!" Julie exclaimed. "I know that's no note from Peter! It +is in his writing----" + +"But so exactly his writing!" Carly said, "nobody could have written +that but Peter himself. Oh, Julie!" + +"Now, stop, Carly! Don't you say it's really a materialization of a note +from Peter! It can't be! I'm afraid to show it to mother or Dad, for I +know they'll say it's really from him,--and I won't believe it." + +"You won't believe it's from Peter, because you don't want to believe +what it says,--isn't that it?" + +Carly looked at Thorpe, though she spoke to Julie. + +"Partly," Julie admitted; "but anyway, I can't believe that Peter,--my +dead brother,--put that real, paper note on my dresser!" + +"If it had said Mac didn't kill Gilbert, would you believe it then?" +Carly asked. + +Julie stared at her, as she took in the question. + +"Yes," she said at last, "in that case, I'd want to believe,--but I +don't see how I could----" + +"Oh, you could, all right," Carly said, "if it meant Mac's innocence was +thereby established." + +"I'm out for justice," Thorpe said; "I hate to hurt Julie's feelings, +but that note doesn't interest me at all,--one way or the other. You +see, if it's a fake,--and I can't help thinking it is, it's somewhat in +my favor, for if faked must it not have been done by the real murderer, +trying to put the blame on me? And if it's real--but, I never discuss +that sort of thing at all. I'm not a believer,--as the Cranes believe, +and yet, feeling toward the Crane family as I do, I refuse to combat +their beliefs or principles. So, as I say, I leave the note out of my +consideration. And, yet, Carlotta, I do want your opinion as to the +genuineness of the handwriting, because you know Peter's fist so +well,--and you're even less likely to be deceived than his family." + +Carly scrutinized the note again. + +"It seems to me it must be Peter's writing," she said at last. "Those +long tails to the filial letters of the words, those are characteristic. +And it's--yes, it's unmistakably his." + +"All right," Thorpe sighed. "I just wanted to know, for Mr. Crane will +know of it sooner or later, and I'm sure he'll identify it as Peter's +writing. + +"And it surely is," Julie added, again staring at the paper. + +"But, Julie, it's _too_ absurd!" Second thoughts convinced Carly of +this. "How could such a thing happen?" + +"I don't know how it could, but it did," Julie said, doggedly. "And so, +Carly, I feel, as Mac says, there's no attention to be paid to this +note. If--mind I say _if_--Peter sent it, why then Peter thinks Mac did +something that he didn't do, that's all. I know Mac is innocent, and so +I shall say nothing of this note to any one, and you mustn't either." + +"I won't," Carly smiled to herself as she realized how many secrets she +was accumulating, "but you will, Julie. You can't keep that from your +father, even though you mean to." + +"Yes, I can, if to tell of it would cast a straw of evidence against +Mac! You see, Carly, we've got to find the real criminal, and I'd rather +do it myself than get a new detective on the job." + +Carly knew this was because Julie feared the astuteness of the new +detective. Which, in turn, meant that Julie, herself, feared Mac's +guilt. Oh, it was a tightly closing net round Mac, as she saw it! + +"I wish I could help," she found herself saying, most unconsciously, so +deeply was she thinking. "But, Julie, you two can do nothing. What are +you expecting to accomplish?" + +"Success," Thorpe made reply. "Complete success. It may sound absurd, +but I think that note is a help to my cause rather than hindrance!" + +"I think so, too," said Carlotta. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Wise and Zizi + + +"Well, Julie, my little girl, the jig is up." + +Thorpe spoke despairingly, and Julie knew only too well what he meant. + +"They're--they're going----" + +"Yes, they're going to arrest me. This is the last call I can pay you." + +Julie didn't break down and cry, nor indeed did she show great emotion +of any sort. She set her curved red lips firmly and said, with an air of +determination: + +"I'm not sure, Mac, that it isn't better so. I mean now we've something +definite to work against. Father's going to get that Mr. Wise, and he'll +soon get you out of--out of--oh, Mac, will they put you in prison? In a +cell?" + +"Yes, dear, until the trial. You see, that little bottle did it for me." + +"And somebody put that in your old paint-box! Who did it, Mac?" + +"Hastings is the only one I can think of. That man never liked me-- I +don't know why, but he never did. And he adored Gilbert----" + +"You don't think he killed Gilbert, then?" + +"Oh, Lord, no! He was always fond of him. But he wants to get me in bad, +and so I think he planted that bottle. It must have been planted, Julie, +I never put it there. I never had it in my possession." + +"Who did kill Gilbert?" + +"I've no idea, but I don't think it was anybody we know. I'm inclined to +the belief that it was some enemy, of long standing. You know Gilbert +Blair's past life was by no means an open book to his friends. He had +turned-down pages that we never knew about or inquired into. It would +not have been impossible for some one to get into his room in the +night----" + +"And give him poison? Not likely!" + +"But it must have been something of the sort, Julie. Blair never killed +himself." + +"No, I suppose not. Oh, Mac, how unfortunate that you and he quarreled +so much. Otherwise they wouldn't have suspected you at all." + +"Yes, they would. It's opportunity they consider, exclusive +opportunity." + +"And that empty bottle! I should think they'd see that's a plant!" + +"They don't see anything an inch away from their noses! I'm the nearest +suspect to hang a charge on, so they choose me." + +Thorpe wasn't pettish, but he was discouraged and unstrung. He knew that +his arrest, which was imminent, was, in part, due to the assertions of +the medium and the Ouija Board. These secrets had leaked out somehow, +and though the detective, Weston, would have scorned to acknowledge it, +he had been more or less biased in his estimates of other evidence by +what he had heard of supernatural communications. + +But of this Thorpe hesitated to speak to Julie. For it was her father +who had brought those things about, and while Thorpe had no use for the +whole mediumistic business, he rarely said so to the Crane family. + +And the note that purported to be from Peter, he believed a bare-faced +fraud. He couldn't understand it, nor imagine how it had been managed, +but he would not believe that it was the work of the dead Peter Crane. + +And so, he submitted helplessly to arrest, for there was no way to prove +his innocence. He had tried "detective work" on his own account, but it +amounted to nothing. The police held that it was an "open and shut" +case, and that Thorpe must have been the murderer. + +Benjamin Crane, though all unwilling to condemn Thorpe, was, of course, +greatly swayed by the supernatural messages, and couldn't help his +belief in them. But, for Julie's sake, and to give Thorpe every possible +chance, he had engaged Pennington Wise, and had invited him to stay at +the Crane house while conducting his investigation. + +So Wise came, and with him came his queer little assistant, the girl +called Zizi. + +There was ample room in the big city house, and the two were treated as +honored guests. + +Wise was alert, quick-witted and tactful, but Zizi was even more so. She +made friends with the Cranes at once, and they all admired the odd, +fascinating girl. Small of stature, dark of coloring, Zizi was not +unlike a gypsy, and the mention of this brought about the tale of the +gypsy's prophecy regarding Peter Boots. + +"What an interesting story," the girl said, after hearing Benjamin Crane +tell it. "It is wonderful how you dear people bear your loss so +bravely." + +"But it isn't really a loss," said Mrs. Crane, "you see, we have our boy +with us continually." + +It was only by desperate effort that Zizi kept from laughing, for of all +fads or whims, spiritism seemed to her the worst and most foolish. But +she was there on business, and part of her business was to gather all +the information she could regarding this same spiritism, so she showed +only deep interest and apparent sympathy with their beliefs. + +"You do believe in these things, don't you?" Mrs. Crane asked, and, +being thus confronted, Zizi had to answer directly. + +"It's hard to say," she replied, "for, you see, I've had so little real +experience. Practically none. But I'm eager to learn, and most +interested in what you tell me." + +"I'm a frank unbeliever," declared Pennington Wise. He had considered +the matter and concluded it was better to state this fact and thereby +rouse the others to defense. + +"You wouldn't be, Mr. Wise," Benjamin Crane said, "if you'd had the +experiences we're continually enjoying. You've read my book?" + +"Yes, Mr. Crane, and an able, well written work it is. But you must +number some among your friends who find difficulty in accepting it in +just the way you do." + +"Certainly, and though I do what I can to convince them, I think none +the less of them for their honest unbelief. But with you right here in +the house, Mr. Wise, it will, I'm sure, be an easy matter to make a +convert of you." + +"We'll see; at any rate, I'm ready to be converted if you can do it. +Now, let's begin with that note your daughter received from--ah, shall I +say from your son?" + +"Of course, it was from my son. You may compare the writing with Peter's +own--we've lots of his letters, and I think you'll be convinced it's no +forgery." + +"And it doesn't seem illogical to you," Wise went on, as he took the +papers Crane handed to him, "that your son should materialize this +paper, this note, and leave it for you, when, if he can do such things, +he doesn't write a letter to his mother or to you?" + +"From the average mortal's point of view there is much that seems +illogical in spiritism," Crane said, easily, as if quite accustomed to +answering such arguments; "we who believe, never question why or why +not. We merely accept." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Crane, "and when we are granted such wonderful boons as +we are, it seems ungrateful and ungracious to ask for anything we do not +get. When I hear my son's voice----" + +"Do you recognize his voice?" asked Zizi. + +"I can hardly say that, my dear, but we have heard Peter talk so often, +through the medium, that it almost _seems_ like his voice." + +"And he told you that Mr. Thorpe was responsible for Mr. Blair's death?" +Zizi went on, wanting a plain statement. + +"Yes, he told us that." + +"Then how can you have any doubt of it?" + +"Spirits do not know everything. It is quite as likely for them to be +misinformed as for earthly people to be. It may be that my boy doesn't +know who killed Gilbert Blair, but has some reason to think it was Mr. +Thorpe." + +"Do you think it was?" + +"I can't say that," Mrs. Crane looked very serious, "nor can I deny it. +We are all so fond of Mr. Thorpe that we can scarcely bring ourselves to +believe ill of him----" + +"But if he is a criminal, we want to know it," her husband interrupted +her. "Mr. Thorpe is engaged to my daughter, and if he is an innocent +man, I want it made clear to the world. If not, then, of course, the +engagement must be broken." + +"He _is_ an innocent man," Zizi said, quietly. + +"Oh, you darling!" cried Julie, running across the room to embrace her. +"How do you know?" + +"By that letter," and Zizi pointed to the note from Peter, which she had +been scrutinizing and comparing with some old letters of Peter's. + +"You think it isn't from my brother?" + +"I know it isn't. I've made a study of handwriting, and whoever wrote +that wrote it in imitation of your brother's writing. I mean the writer +was disguising his own hand and imitating your brother's." + +"How can you tell? They are very much alike." + +"That's just it. The salient points are imitated, the long terminal +strokes, the peculiarities of the capitals, but the less conspicuous +details, such as slant and spacing, are not so carefully copied. It is a +forgery, and though well done enough to deceive the average observer, it +would not deceive an expert." + +"What a lot you know!" and Julie looked at the other girl in surprised +admiration. + +"'Course I do. It's my business to know things. Am I right about this, +Penny Wise?" + +"Yes," he said, smiling at her. "I thought you'd see it. Moreover, Mr. +Crane, this note was written by a man, or by a person capable of deep, +even venomous hatred. If, as may well be the case, it was written by +the murderer of Mr. Blair, and with an intent to throw suspicion on Mr. +Thorpe, then we must look for a criminal of great cleverness and of +patience and perseverance in the workings of his nefarious plans. I mean +a nature of inborn evil, capable of premeditated wrong. This murder of +Gilbert Blair was no impulsive or suddenly brought about job. It was +carefully planned and carefully carried out. If you will show me some of +Mr. Thorpe's writing I will tell you if he forged this note." + +"No, he did not," Wise asserted, after a study of a letter of Thorpe's, +which they gave him; "we cannot say this note signed with your son's +name was written by the criminal we're looking for, but we can be sure +it was not written by McClellan Thorpe. You see, Mr. Crane, penmanship +is a very exact science. Some one forged your son's writing, but he or +she was utterly unable to omit the personal characteristics that are in +every one's hand." + +"And you can deduce character even from a forged hand?" + +"Absolutely. It is those inevitable and unmistakable signs that make the +individual writing a true mirror of character." + +"But it is often impossible to determine the sex of a writer," Zizi +informed them. "Frequently, to be sure, penmanship is undoubtedly that +of a man or a woman, but sometimes it is not definitely evident. In +this case, I think we have the work of a man, but I can't be sure." + +"Who would do it, anyway?" queried Mrs. Crane. + +"Any one interested in concealing the identity of the murderer and +desiring to have Mr. Thorpe suspected. A clever person, because, knowing +of Miss Crane's love of her brother and also knowing of your interest in +the occult, it would doubtless seem to you a strong bit of evidence." + +"It did," Benjamin Crane admitted, "at least, until you proved to us +that it is not a note from my son at all. But you must remember, Mr. +Wise, that we are in no way doubting my son's communications with us in +other ways. If this is not from him, that does not cast doubt on other +communications we have had from him. And, as he has repeatedly told us +that Mr. Thorpe is responsible for Blair's death, I can only say that my +boy may be mistaken, and I sincerely hope he is." + +"Of course, he is," Julie cried. "Peter has sent us other messages that +turned out to be untrue, but he was mistaken." + +"You believe in the mediums, then?" asked Zizi, flashing her big dark +eyes at the girl. + +"Oh, I don't know. I didn't at first, and I was unwilling to, but I've +heard so much and seen so much, and, of course, I can't help being +influenced by Dad and Mother." + +"Of course not," agreed Zizi. "It's all so interesting to me. I'm only +afraid I'll become so absorbed in the spirits that I'll neglect the +detective work." + +"It may be they're interdependent," Wise observed. + +"They are, I'm sure," said Julie. "You see, Mr. Wise, it's not only +father and the medium that have told us things against Mr. Thorpe, but +we have a friend who is an expert on the Ouija Board----" + +Zizi rolled her eyes skyward. + +"Oh," she groaned, "I thought you people were real honest-to-goodness +Spiritists!" + +"We are," defended Crane. + +"Not if you fool with an Ouija Board!" + +"But Carly, Miss Harper, can make it tell wonderful things," Julie went +on, "things of which she really knows nothing." + +"But the other person at the Board knows them?" + +"Well, maybe; but they can't get Ouija to tell them without Miss Harper +has her fingers on, too." + +"And Ouija is against Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Yes; at least it has said he was guilty, but, as you say, an Ouija +Board means nothing." + +"It means something, indeed, but not the thing it says." + +"A brilliant remark, Zizi!" Wise smiled at her. + +"But I mean just that, Penny. I'm getting a line on this thing, and I +think that the criminal or the criminal's friends or accomplices are +utilizing occult forces in their own behalf. I think, Miss Crane, the +more messages you get telling you of Mr. Thorpe's guilt the more you +may believe in his innocence!" + +"Look out, Ziz, don't go too fast," Wise counseled her. "You've only +begun this thing--there's a lot yet to be learned." + +"I'll learn it, and I'm sure I'm headed in the right direction. And I'd +like very much to see this Miss Harper. The Ouija witch! Has she told +you to suspect Mr. Thorpe?" + +"Don't put it that way," Julie begged. "Miss Harper is my dearest +friend, and whatever she does with the Ouija Board is absolutely honest +on her part, absolutely free from deceit." + +"Then she's a unique case," declared Zizi. "Never has such a thing been +known to science." Her smile robbed the words of invidious intent, and +though Julie stood up for Carlotta's innocence, she had always wondered +whether there was not some involuntary, even unconscious helping along +done to the little board. + +"Let's go to see her now," she suggested, and Wise agreeing, the two +girls started off. + + * * * * * + +"This is Miss----?" Julie looked inquiringly at the girl she was about +to introduce to Carlotta, remembering she didn't know her last name. + +"Just Zizi," was the smiling reply, and the slim little dark hand was +held out in greeting. "I'm so glad to know you, Miss Harper. For, though +I admit I don't believe in Ouija, I am interested, and Miss Crane tells +me you never 'push'." + +"No, I never do that," Carlotta smiled, "but don't think I believe in +the thing, for I don't at all. It amuses me, and it puzzled me, at +first, but now I understand it, and it's beginning to lose interest for +me." + +"Understand it?" Zizi looked bewildered. "You mean----" + +"I mean I know what makes it work, why it tells the truth, when it does +tell the truth, and why it fibs when it does fib." + +Carly Harper's face was frank and honest; she had no effect of mystery +or clairvoyant power, and Zizi was bewildered. + +"I am indeed glad to know you!" she exclaimed, "will you impart this +knowledge to me, or is it a secret?" + +"It's not a secret, perhaps it isn't knowledge, it's, after all, only my +own theory, or rather, discovery, based on long and wide experience." + +Zizi was enchanted. + +"Oh, goody!" she cried, her black eyes dancing. "I'm crazy to know just +what you mean! Will you give me a session with the board?" + +"Will you promise not to push?" + +"Of course, and, anyway, you'd know it if I did." + +So Carly got the board, and the two sat at it, while Julie looked on. + +The usual routine followed, and at last the professed spirit of Peter +Crane was "present." + +On being asked if Thorpe killed Gilbert Blair, the Ouija Board promptly +replied "No." + +"Oh, Peter, the other day you said he did!" Carlotta exclaimed, but +again the Board flew to the corner where "No" was printed. + +Julie, watching closely, was sure neither of the girls in any way +cheated or helped things along. She was an acute observer, and she was +certain both the manipulators were strictly sincere. + +"Well, then," Zizi said, her thin, dark fingers merely touching the +little wooden heart, "who did?" + +There was no reply. Motionless the board remained, and no persuasion +would induce it to move. + +Other subjects were brought up, questions were asked to which only +Carlotta knew the answer, or to which only Zizi did, and they were +answered, if not always definitely, at least in a general way. But when +they returned to the question about Blair there was no response. + +"Don't you know?" Carlotta demanded of Peter's "spirit," which +obligingly announced its presence when requested. + +But the board remained stationary, and they finally gave it up. + +"All of which goes to prove my theory the true one," Carlotta declared, +and then Zizi begged her to disclose her discoveries. + +"Why, you see, it's this way," Carlotta began, "you get out of the +Ouija Board exactly what you bring to it, no more, no less." + +"Just what do you mean by that?" + +"That nobody gets any information from the board unless it is already in +his mind. When we ask questions, to which one of us knows the answer, +that answer comes. Mind you, I don't mean that one of us pushes the +board in the right direction, at least not consciously, but it is +inevitable that the mind leaps ahead, and when a word is started we +know, usually, what letter is coming next, and we receptively await it. +You see, unless you hold your hands still purposely, the board is bound +to move. Naturally it goes to the words you have in mind, and unless you +purposely check it, the message is bound to come. If it is something I +know and you don't, the board starts off, and as the words form, you +don't stop them nor do I, yet we don't really force them, it's more as +if we thought on the board. This is proved, to my mind, by the fact that +if either party knows the answer, it always comes; if neither knows it, +you can't get it. Usually the message is something that can't be +verified anyway, and often the message is untrue. But people notice and +remember the few times the truth is told, and quickly forget the other +times. In no case are they messages from the dead. It is not Peter's +spirit talking to us at all. It is merely our minds, subconsciously or +not, that impel involuntary muscular action in the slightest degree, and +our eagerness to get a certain word or phrase, brings it about. +Tradition and habit ascribe the messages to the dead, and the universal +desire to get such communications is responsible for the belief that +they are such. Now, here's proof. Whenever I have asked the Board who +killed Gilbert it has responded with the name of the person whom my +companion thought guilty. I have no idea who is the criminal, neither, I +take it, has Zizi; consequently, as we are both open-minded and waiting +for the answer, we get nothing." + +"Right," and Zizi nodded her head. "People fool themselves into +believing they get information from Ouija. But, if they were honest, +they would have to admit that never has it told a truth that was not +known to at least one person present. Of course, I except coincidences, +which must happen occasionally." + +"But," objected Julie, "then why will it work so much better when Carly +has her hands on?" + +"Just because I'm impassive," Carlotta said, "and sit quietly while the +other one gets the message she wants. Without effort the message desired +comes, merely because nobody stops it." + +"Then," said Julie, "none of the help we get from Ouija means anything +at all?" + +"No, and it isn't help," said Zizi. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"Labrador Luck" + + +Kit Shelby's play was a wonderful success. Though a motion picture, it +was one of the finest ever produced, and no expense had been spared to +make it the sensation of the season. It was called "Labrador Luck." + +The Crane family attended the opening night, as, indeed, all Shelby's +friends did, and the verdict was unanimous that never had such a +beautiful and finished play been screened. The scenes of ice-bound +Labrador were picturesque and fascinating, while the plot was ingenious +and thrills plentiful. The audience applauded continuously, for so real +was the acting that it seemed as if the performers were actually there. + +Benjamin Crane had helped Shelby finance the production, and he realized +at once that he would get his money back with interest. + +"It's a gold mine, boy!" he said to Shelby, as they were all at the +Crane home afterward, "and it must be made into a spoken drama. There's +scope for a great play in that plot." + +"Marvelous plot," commented Pennington Wise. "All your own, Mr. Shelby?" + +"Yes," Kit replied, with frank pride; "it did turn out well, didn't it?" + +"And you're going to make a book of it, too, aren't you?" asked Julie. + +"Yes, a book, and a serial story and, oh, I'm going to do lots of things +with it!" + +"Grand opera, maybe!" chaffed Julie. + +"Why not?" said Shelby, seriously. "Slighter plots than that have been +put into grand opera. It may yet come about." + +Without undue conceit Shelby was quite conscious of his great success, +and as he walked home with Carlotta from the Crane house, he begged her +to consent to his repeated proposals of marriage. + +"This thing will make me rich, dear," he said, "and while that sounds +mercenary, it does make me glad to have a fortune to offer you." + +"But I don't love you, Kit," and Carlotta smiled carelessly at him. + +"You will, Carly. You'll have to, 'cause I love you so. Oh, sweetheart, +I love you just desperately-- I must have you, my little girl, I must!" + +"Now, Kit, you wouldn't want a wife who didn't care for you as a woman +ought to care for the man she marries. Truly, my heart is still Peter's. +I sometimes think I'll never marry, his memory is so vivid and so dear +to me." + +"Weren't you beginning to care for Blair?" + +"N-no; not that way. Of course I was fond of Gilbert, and I'm fond of +you, but there's always the thought of Peter between us." + +"But, Carly, there's no one you care more for than for me, is there?" + +"No, I'm sure of that." + +"Then say yes, darling. Even though you won't marry me quite yet, let's +be engaged, and truly you'll soon learn to love me. I'll make you!" + +But Carlotta wouldn't consent, and Shelby had to be content with her +promise to think about it. + +"Kit," she said, suddenly, "are those queer detectives going to find out +who killed Gilbert?" + +"Oh, I suppose they'll fasten it on Mac. Poor chap, to think of his +being in jail while we're having all this excitement over my play. But I +don't see any other direction for Wise to look. What a funny little +thing that Zizi is." + +"Yes, but I like her a lot. And she's nobody's fool! Her black eyes take +in everything, whether she remarks on it or not. You should have seen +her watch you to-night." + +"When?" + +"At the Cranes', when you were talking about the play." + +"She's dramatic herself. She ought to be in the Moving Pictures!" + +"Yes, she'd be a film queen at once." + + * * * * * + +Zizi must have had something of the same idea in her own mind, for the +next day she went to see Shelby at his office and asked him if he could +give her a chance at film work. + +"But you're a detective," Shelby said, amusedly, "what would Mr. Wise do +without you?" + +"He'd get along all right," Zizi said earnestly. "He's willing I should +have a try at a screen career, if you'll take me on." + +"I'm not sure I could use you," Shelby returned, "at least not at +present. If I do another picture I'll try you out in it." + +"Oh, you are going to do another, aren't you?" + +"Probably, but not until I've exhausted all the different possibilities +of this one." + +Zizi showed her disappointment at the failure of her plan, but, after +some further talk on general subjects, she went back to the Cranes'. + +"Well, Ziz," Wise said to her, as they discussed the case alone, "we're +not making our usual rapid headway this time. Rather baffling, isn't +it?" + +"Everything seems to point to Thorpe, except that I can't think he had +motive enough. That foolish jealousy of the plans and suspicion of +Blair's stealing his ideas isn't enough to make him commit murder." + +"I don't think he did do it, but I can't agree with you that it wasn't a +big enough motive. You don't know how the artistic temperament resents +anything like that. Nor how it imagines and exaggerates the least hint +of it. I think his motive is the strongest point against Thorpe. Who +else had any motive at all?" + +"That's what we have to find out. And we're going to do it. And, I say, +Penny, I want to go to see that medium person the Cranes are so fond +of." + +"Think she'll help you?" + +"Yes, though not by her spiritism. But I suspect she's one big fraud, +and I want to be sure." + +"Come along, then. No time like the present. Mr. Crane can arrange a +session for us." + +To Madame Parlato's they went, and soon had the pleasure of seeing that +lady in one of her trances. + +The room was dimly lighted but not in total darkness. After a silence a +faint, low-pitched voice said, "I am here." + +"Are you Peter Crane?" asked Zizi, who chose to be spokesman. + +"Yes." + +"Will you talk to us?" + +"Yes, for a short time only." + +"Very well, then tell us who killed Gilbert Blair." + +"His friend, McClellan Thorpe. Good-by." + +"Wait a minute. I own up to being skeptical, is it too much to ask for +some proof of your identity, Peter Crane? Will you, can you give some +material proof?" + +"It is not easy." + +"I'm sorry for that, but, oh, I do so want to be convinced. And I +can't, unless I have something tangible to take away with me. Do give me +something." + +There was a silence, and then, apparently from nowhere, a handkerchief +fluttered through the air and fell at Zizi's feet. + +Amazed, the girl picked it up, and though she could not see it +distinctly, she discovered it was a large one, evidently a man's. + +Suddenly the medium sat up straight, came out of her trance, and putting +on the lights, said, eagerly, "Did you get any message?" + +"I should say I did!" Zizi returned, "and a material proof, too. Look!" + +"Wonderful!" exclaimed Madame Parlato, as she looked at the white square +of linen. "Initialed, too." + +"Yes, P. C.," and Zizi scrutinized the embroidery. + +Pennington Wise expressed a polite admiration for the medium who could +bring about such marvelous results, and the _seance_ over, the two +departed, Zizi carrying the handkerchief in her bag. + +"One of a set of Peter's," Wise said, confidently. + +"Of course. Julie or Mrs. Crane will recognize it. Funny, how she +thought a crude performance like that would convince us!" + +"Mighty well done though." + +"Pooh, in a darkened room one can do anything." + +"Well, where did she get the handkerchief?" + +"Dunno, yet. Maybe the Cranes left it there by chance." + +"Oh, no, that won't do. Guess again." + +"I think I could if I tried. But we'll see what the family say about +it." + +Both Mrs. Crane and Julie declared the handkerchief to be one of Peter's +own, and, moreover, that it was one of a set Carlotta had embroidered +for him just before he went to Labrador. And he had taken the whole +dozen with him, of that they were both sure. It had been Carly's parting +gift, and Peter had been delighted with it. + +"It's too wonderful!" Julie said, amazed. "Now, how do you explain it, +Zizi? We know this to be Peter's own handkerchief. We know he took it to +Labrador with him. How did it get back here? How get into Madame +Parlato's possession? And how appear to you, out of nothingness?" + +"Yes," said Benjamin Crane, smiling happily, "answer those questions +satisfactorily, or else admit that it is real materialization!" + +Wise looked a little nonplused. Positive though he was of the medium's +trickery, he could not tell Mr. Crane exactly how it had come about. +Materialization was easy enough for a charlatan, but, as had been said, +where could she get the handkerchief to do the trick with? + +Convinced of the Cranes' honesty, of course, Wise couldn't doubt that +Peter had taken all the handkerchiefs with him. His luggage had never +been sent home, therefore how did the handkerchief get to New York, and +more especially how did it get to Madame Parlato? + +"I can't explain it yet," Wise said, frankly, "but I'll find out all +about it. To you, Mr. Crane, it seems additional proof of your son's +communication through that medium. To me it is additional and very +strong proof of her fraud. Now, we'll leave it at that for the present, +but I promise to explain it to you soon." + +"All right, Mr. Wise, you'll not be offended, I trust, if I say I don't +believe you can make good your word. But I'm not surprised at your +attitude. Some minds are almost incapable of belief in the occult, and +will accept the most absurd and far-fetched explanations rather than the +simple and plausible one of spirit communication. I can't understand +such a mental attitude, but I've met so many like you that I'm obliged +to recognize its existence." + +"Oh, Mr. Wise," Mrs. Crane said, "it does seem so strange that a +clear-headed, deep-thinking man like yourself prefers to believe that +Madame Parlato could get Peter's handkerchief and could produce it so +mysteriously for you rather than the rational belief that Peter sent it +himself." + +Zizi looked at the speaker with kindly eyes. + +"Dear Mrs. Crane," she said, "what will hurt me most when we expose that +medium's fraud is the fact of your disappointment." + +"Don't worry about that," smiled Benjamin Crane, "you haven't exposed +her yet! Meantime, I shall incorporate this experience of the +handkerchief in my next book." + +"Oh, don't!" cried Zizi, involuntarily. "You'll make yourself a +laughing-stock----" + +She paused, unwilling to hurt his feelings. + +But so assured of his beliefs was Benjamin Crane that he shook his head +and said: + +"No fear of that, child. I'll take all risks. Have you any idea how my +book has been received? It's just gone into another big edition, and my +publishers are clamoring for my second book, which is nearly finished. +But to return to the case of McClellan Thorpe. Did Peter tell you----" + +"Yes," Wise said, "according to Madame Parlato, the spirit of your son +said that Thorpe is the criminal, and it was as proof of identity that +Zizi received the handkerchief." + +"Fine," said Crane, nodding his satisfaction, "I think I'll use that +_seance_ for the finale of my book, and get it in press at once." + +"Do, dear," said his wife, "as far as the handkerchief is concerned. But +don't put in the book that Mac killed Gilbert." + +"Oh, no, certainly not. In the first place, we're all agreed that though +Peter believes that, it is a mistake on his part; that is, it may be a +mistake. Don't let it influence you too much, Mr. Wise." + +Penny Wise laughed outright. He couldn't help it. + +"No, sir," he promised, "I won't!" + +"But have you any other suspect?" + +"I'd rather not answer that question quite yet, Mr. Crane." + +"All right, take your own time. I've confidence you'll do all you can, +but my hopes of your success are dwindling." + +"Don't feel that way, on the contrary, I'm beginning to see at least a +way to look for another suspect." + +"Look hard, then. For I want to get Mac cleared as soon as it can be +brought about." + +"We'll hope to do that. I'm going over to the Studios now, and I've a +notion I'll discover something." + +Accompanied by Zizi, Wise went to the home that Blair and Thorpe had +occupied, and which was now in charge of the police. + +The detective set himself to the task of looking over old letters and +papers in hope of finding out some secret of the dead man's past. + +Zizi flitted about the rooms, looking for nothing in particular, and +everything in general. + +"I've sized up his medicines," she said, coming from Blair's bedroom +into the studio where Wise sat at the desk. + +"His cough syrup hasn't been touched lately. The dried up stickiness of +the cork shows that. And one or two other bottles are in the same +condition. But in the waste basket in his bedroom I found this." + +She held up an empty bottle that was labeled soda mints. + +"There's a new full bottle in the medicine chest," she went on, "and as +this was in the basket, mayn't it be that he took the last ones, +and----" + +"And they were poisoned!" + +"One of them was. See, somebody had put a poisoned one in among the +others." + +"That leads back to Thorpe, who else could do that?" + +"And we don't know that anybody did, only it might have been." + +"Can you smell any prussic acid in the vial?" + +"No," and Zizi sniffed at it, "I seem to think I do, but I daresay it's +my vivid imagination. Do you suppose a chemist could discern any?" + +"Probably not, but we might make a try at it. Pretty slim clue, anyway, +Ziz." + +"I know it, but I have a hunch it's the real thing. You see, Blair was +in the habit of taking these things----" + +"How do you know?" + +"Carlotta Harper told me. I've quizzed her a lot about Mr. Blair's +personal habits, and he always carried soda mints in his pocket, and +took one now and then. So, as there was no soda mint bottle found in his +pockets, and this was in the basket, it's a logical deduction that he +finished this bottle that night that he died. And they all think the +poison was given to him through some simple trick, so why not this?" + +"It may be. It very likely is. But where does it get us?" + +"Dunno yet. But, say it was done that way, it needn't have been done +here. Maybe the murderer put a poisoned mint in the bottle when they +were somewhere together." + +"How could he?" + +"Oh, lots of ways. Say Blair had his coat off, playing golf or +billiards, or----" + +"He'd carry such a bottle in his waistcoat pocket, I think." + +"Well, it's all surmise. The thing to do is to begin from the other end. +Who had a motive?" + +"That's what I'm trying to trace. Nothing doing as yet. Hello, here's +that old letter from Joshua, the guide. Look at it! It is in a small, +cramped hand, and you know the one purporting to be from him later was +in a big, sprawly hand. Somebody faked that letter!" + +"Well, there's something to work on, then." + +"But maybe Thorpe did it." + +"Not he. Why should he? He had nothing to do with that Labrador trip." + +"What was the letter about, the other Joshua letter?" + +"Advising him not to try to bring Peter Crane's body down to New York, +or to postpone the matter, or something like that." + +"Queer business, that. Why should anybody want to fake a letter like +that?" + +"I don't believe anybody did. More likely some one else wrote for the +guide. They're an ignorant lot, and writing is an unwelcome task to +them." + +They were still looking at the guide's letter when Shelby came in. + +"I heard you were here," he said, "and thought it would be a good time +to come around. I want to see if there's anything in Blair's papers that +would help to turn suspicion away from Mac Thorpe. I don't believe that +man did it, and I wish we could free him." + +"That's what we're after," and Wise made room for Shelby to sit beside +him at Blair's desk. + +But though they made systematic search of all letters they found none +other than friendly. There were some from his mother and sister, +pathetic ones, telling of their ill health, for both were invalids. + +They had not come East on learning of Blair's death, for they could not +well stand the trip, and, too, there was no real reason for their +coming. After the police investigation was over Blair's effects were to +be sent to them, but for the present everything remained as it was found +at his death. + +"Let me help you, if I can," Shelby went on to Wise. "You know Blair and +I were chums. Poor Gilbert, and Peter Boots, too, both gone, and both +by such tragic means. I don't know which death was the worse." + +Zizi showed him the small bottle she had found, and asked his opinion of +her theory about it. + +"What an ingenious notion," Shelby exclaimed; "yes, it might be the +truth, of course, but a dozen other ways might have been used either." + +"Such as what?" asked Wise, "it's always a help to talk these things +over." + +"Well, granting that some one administered poison to Blair, secretly, +mightn't he have put it in anything that Blair was about to eat or +drink?" + +"Not this poison," objected Wise. "It acts too quickly. Whatever plan +was adopted, it was some scheme by which Blair would take the poison +unknowingly, but naturally. As Zizi says, if it had been put in some one +of his bottles of medicine, he must take it, sooner or later." + +"Yes; well, then say it was put in a cigarette, no that's foolish; why, +hang it all, Wise, don't you see there's no plausible theory except that +some one put it in a drink Blair took just before going to bed, or even +after he was in bed." + +"Where's the glass, then?" + +"That's just the point. What's the answer, except that Thorpe washed it +and put it away? Of course, Blair would take a drink Thorpe offered +him." + +"Also, he might have taken a soda mint just as he went to bed or after," +said Zizi. + +"Yes," agreed Shelby, thoughtfully. "He might have done so, but could +one introduce poison into one of those things? They're quite hard, you +know." + +"Yes, it could be done," Wise declared. "I've heard of such a thing +before. The little pellet could be soaked in the poison----" + +"That would make it taste, and he wouldn't swallow it," Shelby said. + +"True. Well, I think, with a hypodermic needle, the poison could be got +into the mint." + +"Maybe, but I doubt it. However, I don't know much about such things. +You're doubtless experienced." + +"Yes, I've had a lot of poison cases. And, if we give up all thought of +the soda mint, it does come back to a drink of some sort mixed by +Thorpe." + +"Or Blair might have mixed his own drink, and Thorpe added the poison, +unnoticed." + +"But I want to get away from Thorpe," Zizi said, her eyes anxious and +worried. + +"So do we all," returned Shelby gravely. "But where can we look?" + +"Where, indeed?" echoed Penny Wise. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A Prophecy Fulfilled + + +Among the passengers disembarking from a steamer at a Brooklyn pier was +a tall, gaunt man, who walked with a slight limp. + +He was alone, and though he nodded pleasantly to one or two of his +fellow passengers, he walked by himself, and all details of landing +being over, he took a taxicab to a hotel restaurant, glad to eat a +luncheon more to his taste than the ship's fare had been. + +He bought several New York papers, and soon became so absorbed in their +contents that his carefully selected food might have been dust and ashes +for all he knew. + +Staring at an advertisement, he called a waiter. + +"Send out and get me that book," he said, "as quick as you can." + +"Yes, sir," returned the man, "it's right here, sir, on the news-stand. +Get it in a minute, sir." + +And in about a minute Peter Boots sat, almost unable to believe his own +eyes, as he scanned the chapter headings of his father's book, detailing +the death and the subsequent experiences of him who sat and stared at +the pages. + +He looked at the frontispiece, a portrait of himself, but bearing little +resemblance to his present appearance. For, where the pictured face +showed a firm, well-molded chin, the living man wore a brown beard, +trimmed Vandyke fashion, and where the expression on the portrait showed +a merry, carefree smile, the real face was graven with deep lines that +told of severe experiences of some sort. + +But the real face grinned a little at the picture, and broke into a +wider smile at some sentences read at random as the pages were hastily +turned, and then as further developments appeared, the blue eyes showed +a look of puzzled wonder, quickly followed by horror and despair. + +Peter closed the book and laid it aside, and finished his luncheon in a +daze. + +One thing stood forth in his mind. He must take time to think--think +deeply, carefully, before he did anything. He must get away by himself +and meet this strange, new emergency that had come to him. + +What to do, how to conduct himself, these were questions of gravest +import, and not to be lightly settled. + +He thought quickly, and concluded that for a secure hiding-place a man +could do no better than choose a big city hotel. + +Finishing his meal he went to the desk and asked for a room, registering +as John Harrison, which was the name by which he had been known on the +ship that had brought him to port. + +Once behind the locked door of his room he threw himself into an +armchair and devoured the book he had bought. + +Rapidly he flew through it; then went over it again, more slowly, until +Peter Boots was familiar with every chapter of the book that his father +had written in his memory. + +Memory! And he wasn't dead! + +The book, he saw, had gone through a large number of editions, +wherefore, many people had read the tale of his tragic fate in the +Labrador wild, and of his recrudescence and communications with his +parents, and now, here he was reading it himself. + +It is not easy to realize how strange it must seem to read not only +one's own death notices but the accounts of one's return to earth in +spirit form, and to be informed of the astonishing things one said and +did through the kind offices of a professional medium! + +A medium! Madame Parlato! And she "got in touch" with him! She succeeded +in getting messages from him--and materializations! + +Peter's chicory blue eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read of +the "materialization" of his tobacco pouch. + +"Jolly glad I know where it is," he thought; "I've missed the thing, but +how did it waft itself to a professional medium! Bah! the stuff makes +me sick! + +"But Dad wrote it! Dad--my father! And mother's in the game! Got to read +the book all over again." + +And again he delved into the volume, seeming unable to take in the +appalling fact of what had been done. + +"They believe it!" he said at last, reaching the final page for the +third time; "they believe it from the bottom of their blessed souls! + +"Who is that medium person? Where'd she get the dope to fool the old +folks? Let me at her! I'll give her what for! Messages to mother from +her departed son! 'Do not grieve for me,' 'I am happy over here,' Oh, +for the love o' Mike! what _am_ I going to do first?" + +Followed a long time of thought. At first, chaotic, wondering, +uncertain, then focussing and crystallizing into two definite ideas. + +One, the astonishing but undeniable fact of his father's belief and +sincerity, the other, what would happen if that belief and sincerity +were suddenly stultified. + +"Good Lord!" he summed up, "when I appear on the scene that medium will +get the jolt of her sweet young life-- I assume she's young still, and +Dad---- + +"H'm, where will he get off?" + +That gave him pause. For Benjamin Crane to have written such a book as +this, for it to have achieved such a phenomenal success and popularity, +for it to have been the means, as it doubtless was, of converting +thousands to a belief in Spiritism, then, for the whole thing to be +overturned by the reappearance in the flesh of the man supposed dead, +would mean a cataclysm unparalleled in literary history. + +And his father? The dear old man, happy in his communications from his +dead son, how would he be pleased to learn that they were not from his +dead son at all, but the faked drivel of a fraudulent medium? + +It was a moil, indeed. + +Peter Crane had come home incognito, because he doubted the wisdom of a +sudden shock to his parents. Unable to send or get news, and making his +voyage home at the first possible opportunity, he had intended to learn +how matters stood before making his appearance. + +He had intended telephoning Blair and Shelby, and if they said all was +well at home he would go there at once. But if there had been illness or +death he would use care and tact in making his presence known. + +For Peter Boots had had no word of, or from his people for half a +year--all the long Labrador winter he had lived in ignorance of their +welfare and had suffered to the limit, both mentally and physically. + +And he had thought they would probably assume his death--as, by reason +of this astonishing book he now knew they had done--and, what was he to +do about it? + +Impulse would have sent him flying home--home to his mother, Dad and +Julie, and--and dear little Carly. + +But--when he thought of the possibility of his reappearance being the +means of making his father's name a by-word of ridicule, of heaping on +the old man's fame obloquy and derision, of shocking his mother, perhaps +fatally, or at least into a nervous prostration, he was unable to shape +a course. + +Could he tell Carly first? He glanced at a telephone book at his elbow. + +No, that would never do. To hear his voice on the telephone would throw +her into a convulsion. He didn't believe she stood for that spirit +foolishness, but if, by any chance, she had been won over, his voice +would surely give her some sort of a shock. + +The boys, then. Yes, that was the only thing. He must see them, but he +must telephone first and learn their whereabouts. + +He could, he concluded, call in a disguised voice, and get a line on +things anyhow. + +So, still in a haze of doubt and uncertainty, he looked up the number +and called Shelby. + +As he rather expected, Shelby was not at his home, but the person who +answered could give no directions save to say that Mr. Shelby would +probably be home by six o'clock, and would he leave a message? + +"No," returned Peter shortly, and hung up. + +Getting next the number of the Leonardo Studios, he asked for Gilbert +Blair. + +"W-what--who?" came a stammering response. + +"Mr. Blair--Mr. Gilbert Blair," repeated Peter. + +"Why--why, he's dead--Mr. Blair's dead." + +"No! When did he die?" + +"Coupla months ago. Murdered." + +"What!" + +"Yep, murdered." + +Peter hung up the receiver from sheer inability to do anything else. + +Of course it couldn't be true. Blair couldn't have been murdered, and he +must have misunderstood that last word. But his arm seemed paralyzed +when he tried again to take hold of the telephone. + +He sank back in his chair and tried to think. + +His subconscious mind told him that he had not misunderstood--that +Gilbert was murdered. He knew he had heard the word correctly, and +people do not make such statements unless they are true. + +His thoughts gradually untangled themselves and he began to grapple with +the most important problems. + +It was clear that he must learn what had happened in his absence. He +wanted to get hold of Shelby and ask about Blair. He wanted to go right +over to Blair's place--but if--if _it_ had occurred two months ago there +was small use going there now. + +Also, he must preserve his incognito for the present, at least. His +return would be blazoned in the papers as soon as it was known, and the +effect on his father's reputation would be most disastrous. + +He must learn more facts--the facts he had already discovered were so +amazing, what else might not be in store for him? + +Concentrating on the subject of Blair's death he concluded his best +course would be to get a file of newspapers covering the past two months +and read about it. + +In a big newspaper office he accomplished this, and spent the rest of +the afternoon reading up the case. + +Of late the subject was not a principal one in the papers. + +McClellan Thorpe was in prison, awaiting his trial, and the police, +while still on the job, were not over aggressive. + +Pennington Wise was not mentioned, so Peter had no means of knowing that +that astute person was connected with the matter. + +But the news of Thorpe's arrest struck Peter a new blow. While not as +chummy with Thorpe as with Shelby and Blair, Peter had always liked him +and found it difficult to believe him guilty of Blair's death. + +Back to his hotel went the man registered as John Harrison, and, going +to the restaurant for dinner, he ate and enjoyed a hearty meal. + +After all, strange and weird as was the news he had heard, his parents +were alive and well--and, strangest of all, they were not grieving at +his death. + +He was relieved at this, and yet, he was, in an inexplicable way, +disappointed. It _is_ a blow in the face to learn that your loved ones +are quite reconciled to your death because, forsooth, they get fool +messages from you through the services of a fool medium! + +Peter's ire rose, and he was all for going to his father's house at +once, and then, back came the thought, how could he put that dear old +man to the blush for having written that preposterous book? + +From the papers, too, Peter had learned of the furor the book had made, +of the great notoriety and popularity that had come to Benjamin Crane +from its publication, of the enormous sales it had had, and was still +having, and of the satisfaction and happiness the whole thing had +brought to both Mr. and Mrs. Crane. + +So, stifling his longing to go home and to see his people, Peter decided +to sleep over it before taking any definite steps. + +He had small fear of recognition. Nobody in New York believed him alive, +or had any thought of looking for him. His present appearance was so +different from the portrait in the book that, after he had changed his +looks still further by a different brushing of his hair, he felt there +was no trace of likeness left save perhaps his blue eyes. And only one +who knew him well would notice his eyes, and he had no expectation of +running up against one who knew him well. + +So, after dinner, he sat for a time in the hotel lobby, not wishing to +mingle with his fellow men, yet not wishing to seem peculiar by reason +of his evading notice. + +Worn with the succession of shocks that had come to him, and weary of +meeting the big problems and situations, he thought of diversion. + +"Any good plays on?" he asked the news-stand girl, and his winning smile +brought a chatty response. + +"Plays--yes. Nothing corking, though. But say, have you seen the big +movie?" + +"No; what is it?" + +"'Labrador Luck,' oh, say, it's a peach! Go to it!" + +"Where?" and Peter stopped himself just in time from exclaiming, +"Labrador anything would interest me!" + +"Over in N'York. Hop into the sub and you're there." + +Peter hopped into the sub and shortly he was there. + +"Labrador Luck," he read from the big posters. "Monster production of +the Tophole Producing Company. Thrilling scenes, thrilling plot, +thrilling drama." + +There was more detail as to the names of the Film Queen who was starred, +and the Film King who supported her, but without stopping to read them +Peter bought a ticket and went in. + +The picture was under way, and as he sank into his seat he saw on the +screen the familiar scenes of the Labrador wild. + +Not quite true to nature were they, this Peter recognized at once, but +he knew they were taken in a studio, not in Labrador itself, and he had +only admiration for the cleverness with which they were done. + +With a little sigh of pleasure he gave himself up to a positive +enjoyment of the landscape, and, as the story went on, he was conscious +of a vaguely familiar strain running through it. + +Suddenly a scene was flashed on, and an episode occurred which was one +of his own invention. + +"Why," he smiled, "that's my very idea! Now how'd they get that? Oh, I +know, of course, such things often occur to various minds without +collusion, but it's sort of queer. If he follows up that lead, it will +be awful queer!" + +The lead was followed up, and, a bit bewildered, Peter sat gazing while +the whole story was unrolled. + +Greatly changed it was, greatly elaborated; the main plot side-tracked +by a counter-plot; the number of characters multiplied by a score; yet, +the mystery interest, the suspense element, the very backbone of the +piece was the plot he and Blair had worked out while up in the Labrador +wild. + +"Labrador Luck!" he mused. "Fine name for it, too. The 'Luck' being that +old heirloom--just as I planned it. Wonder how it all came about?" + +Then he realized how long he'd been away from Blair. How Blair, +doubtless, supposed him dead, and, most naturally, the boy had gone on +with the story, and here was the splendid result. + +He sat through the thing enthralled, and when the finale came, so +exactly as he had planned that smashing great scene, he could have +yelled his applause. But he didn't, he simply sat still in glad +anticipation of seeing it all over again. + +But he was disappointed. It was not a continuous performance--the long +play was a whole evening's entertainment, and opening and closing hours +were like those of a regular theater. + +So Peter determined to come the next night to see it again, and to see +the first part that he had missed. + +"Great old play," he thought, delightedly. "Wonder if Blair put it on +before he died, or if it's posthumous." + +He picked up a stray program as he left the place--he had had none +before--and put it in his pocket to look over at home. + +"At least, I'm not suffering from lack of interests or diversion," he +said, "but, by Jingo, I've just thought of it! What about money! + +"I've enough to hang out at that hotel about a week and that's all. I'll +have to tell Dad I'm here, or get a job or rob a bank. And what can I do +to turn an honest penny? And I can't go to work under an assumed name! +Oh, hang it all, I've got to come to life! Much as I love Dad and much +as I want to save him from all ridicule and disaster about that +abominable book, I've simply got to live my own life! + +"But I won't decide till my cash gets lower than it is now. I'll go a +bit further in my investigations and then we'll see about it." + +Comfortably seated in his room he drew out the program to look over. + +To his unbounded amazement he learned from the title page that the +author of the play and also the producer, or, at least, the president of +the producing company was--Christopher Shelby! + +"Kit! Good old top!" he cried aloud. + +"Oh, I must see him," he thought, "I just must see him! So Kit wrote the +thing--well, I suppose he and Blair did it together-- I recognize Kit's +hand more especially in the producing element--and then, old Gilbert, +bless him, was killed, and Kit went ahead alone-- I can't think Mac +Thorpe did for Gil--oh, I must see _somebody_ or I'll go crazy!" + +And because he was afraid to trust himself to keep away from the +telephone any longer, Peter Boots went to bed. + +The night brought counsel. + +Clarifying his thoughts, Peter tried first to see where his duty lay. + +To his parents, first of all, he decided, for he was a devoted son, and +all his life he had loved and revered both father and mother more than +most boys do. Julie, too, but, so far he had no reason to think she had +any special claim on him. + +Well, then, what did his duty to his parents dictate? + +Common sense said that they would far rather have their son with them +alive than to rest secure in the success of the book his father had +written. + +But the book itself was, to his mind, quite outside the pale of common +sense, and could not be judged by any such standards. + +Certain pages, special paragraphs in that book, stood out in his mind, +and he knew that never had there been such a fiasco as would ensue if +the long lost and deeply mourned hero of it should return! His return in +the spirit was so gloatingly related, so triumphantly averred, that his +return in the flesh would be a terrific anti-climax. + +He remembered the gypsy's prophecy--how it had come true! + +But the return, foretold by the second gypsy, was now verified in the +flesh and put to naught all the fake returns narrated in the book. + +Much stress was laid, in his father's story, on the spiritual return +being what the gypsy meant. Now, Peter had proved that that prophecy +meant, if it meant anything at all, his return in the flesh. + +Anyway, here he was, very much alive, and very uncertain what to do with +his live self. + +Should he go away, out West, or to some distant place and start life +anew, under an assumed name, and leave his father to his delusion? Was +that his duty? + +He was not necessary to his parents, either as a help to their support +or as a comfort to their hearts. + +He did not do them the injustice to think that they had never mourned +for him, or that they had not missed him in the home. All this was fully +and beautifully set forth in the book. + +But they had been compensated by the comfort and enjoyment afforded them +by their _seances_, and by the messages they continually received from +him! + +And he could see no way, try as he would, that he could inform them of +his return without causing them dismay and distress. + +For if they knew him to be alive he must take again his old place in the +home--and then what would his father be? + +A laughing-stock, a crushed and crestfallen victim of the most +despicable sort of fraud! + +It would never do. He couldn't bring positive trouble into his father's +life on the off chance of removing a sorrow, which, though real, was +softened and solaced by the very fraud that he would expose. + +No; the more he thought the more he saw his duty was to eliminate +himself for all time from his home and friends. + +And Carly? + +He tried not to think about her, for his duty must be his paramount +consideration. He would wait a day or so, and then disappear again, and +forever. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +An Interview + + +"Well, Mr. Douglas, what can I do for you?" + +Benjamin Crane spoke cordially, and smiled genially at the young man who +had called on him in his home. + +"You can turn me down, sir, if you like, or, if you'll be so kind, you +can give me a few details of these strange experiences of yours in +occult matters." + +"Are you a reporter?" + +"I am, but also I want to be something more than that. And in this case +I want to write up these things for a special article, and a personal +interview would help a lot." + +"Well, my boy, you impress me pleasantly, and, as I like nothing better +than to talk on my favorite subject, I'll give you a fifteen-minute +chat. More than that I cannot spare time for." + +"Then let's confine our talk to the phase that interests me most. I can +get your beliefs and experiences from your book, you know. And your +personality," Douglas gave him a humorously appraising glance, "I am +gathering as we go along. First, will you tell me your attitude, mental +and spiritual, regarding the loss of your son? I mean, though I fear I +put it crudely, are you entirely reconciled to his death because of the +comfort you receive from his--er--communications and all that?" + +"A difficult question to answer," Crane paused a moment, "but I think I +may say yes. I bow to the will of a Higher Power in the death of my son, +and I am grateful to that same Higher Power for the comfort that is mine +in the communion I have with my boy." + +"Then you do not really grieve over his loss?" + +"Not now--no. At first, of course, both his mother and I were crushed, +but when he came to us, in the spirit, we took heart, and now we are +perfectly satisfied--more than satisfied to accept our life conditions +just as they are." + +"You have frequent communication with the spirit of your departed son?" + +"Almost daily." + +"With the same medium always?" + +"Nowadays, yes. I tried various ones, but I rely on Madame Parlato. She +has had the greatest success, and now can readily get into communication +with my son at almost any time." + +"Excuse me, Mr. Crane, if I am indiscreet, but have you never felt that +she might be--not entirely--honest?" + +Benjamin Crane smiled benignly. "Don't hesitate to put your doubt into +words. I am quite ready to answer that question. I have no doubts of +any sort concerning the medium's honesty, sincerity and genuineness. I +have no doubt that the communications she obtains are really from my son +Peter. That his spirit speaks to me through her. This has been proved to +me in many ways, but a far greater proof is the conviction in my soul of +the reality of it all. My wife believes as implicitly as I do, and no +amount of scoffing from outsiders can in any way shake our faith." + +"You have had material proofs?" + +"Yes; here is a letter from my son himself. Here is a tobacco pouch that +I know was his. Here is his handkerchief." + +With a calm pride Benjamin Crane took these articles from a table drawer +and showed them. + +Douglas was deeply impressed, examined the articles and watched Crane as +he returned them to the drawer. + +"You see," said Crane, "it is not only difficult but impossible to +account for those things except by supernatural explanation, so why +refuse the logical truth?" + +"That's so. And, I understand now, why you are so happy in your beliefs, +for it all gives your life a continual and absorbing interest. You are +writing another book, are you not?" + +"Yes; it contains the detailed account of my _seances_, and will, I +trust, prove an additional source of information and education on the +great subject of survival." + +"And your daughter? Does she, too, subscribe to all your theories?" + +"Almost entirely. She is not so absorbed in the subject as Mrs. Crane +and myself, but she has become persuaded of many truths." + +"And now, my time is nearly up, may I ask you a word regarding the Blair +case. Do you think McClellan Thorpe is the guilty man?" + +"No! a thousand times no! I am trying by every means in my power to +prove that he isn't. I hope to succeed, too. But we mustn't go into that +subject, as I have an important appointment to keep. Come to see me +again, Mr. Douglas, if you like. I'm not unaccustomed to such calls, and +I'll be glad to see you again. By appointment, though, for I'm a busy +man." + +Tom Douglas went back, over to Brooklyn, and, going to a hotel, asked +for one John Harrison. + +In a short time Peter Boots was eagerly listening to the report of the +messenger he had sent to his father. + +"I learned a lot, Mr. Harrison," the visitor began. "I think I can give +you quite a bit of the local color you need for your novel." + +"Not so much local color as mental attitude," Peter returned. "You see, +in writing a psychological novel the author has to be careful of shades +of feeling in his delineation of the characters. And as this Mr. Crane +seemed to be just the type I want to study, I'm glad to have you tell me +all the things he said, as nearly as you can recollect his own +language." + +"Yes, I know. And I was mighty interested on my own account, too." + +"He was willing you should write an article about him?" + +"Oh, yes, and asked me to come again." + +"Go on, tell me all he said--how he looked and acted and everything that +happened." + +And so the young reporter and free-lance writer told Peter Boots all +about his father, under the impression that he was talking to one who +had never seen Benjamin Crane. + +"He's a wonderful man, Mr. Harrison," the other said, enthusiastically. +"He must be fifty-five at least, maybe more, but he's so alert and +quick-witted, and so full of his subject, that he seems a much younger +man." + +"And he seems happy?" + +"Happy! I should say so! Perfectly reconciled to his son's death, +because of these communications he gets from him! I say, Mr. Harrison, I +can't stand for it! It gets me to see how that man is gulled, and he +such a clear-headed, sane sort! Had proofs, too--all sorts of things. Do +you believe it, Mr. Harrison? Do you believe that the spirit of Mr. +Crane's dead son talks to him through a medium?" + +"I do not," said Peter Crane, endeavoring not to speak too emphatically. +"I didn't want you to get that interview in the interests of Spiritism +at all, but to tell me of the condition, mentally and physically, of Mr. +Crane." + +"Yes, I know. Well, the old guy is O.K. physically, fit as a fiddle. And +sound mentally, you bet, except that he's nutty on the supernatural. +Why, he showed me the tobacco pouch--you know he tells about that in his +book----" + +Peter nodded. + +"Showed me, too, a handkerchief of his dead son's----" + +"That's not so remarkable." + +"Yes, it is; 'cause it's one of a set that the chap took away with him, +embroidered by his best girl, I believe." + +Peter started. One of those handkerchiefs Carly gave him! Where in the +world could that fool medium have got hold of that? + +"Also a note from son, in his own handwriting," Douglas went on. + +"Did you see it?" + +"Yep. Commonplace looking note, advising his sister to drop acquaintance +with Thorpe--he's the man they arrested in the Blair case." + +"Where did the note come from?" + +"Materialized--out of thin air." + +"At a _seance_?" + +"No; the brother kindly left it on sister's bureau, I believe." + +Peter Crane was bewildered indeed. What sort of performances were going +on, anyhow. And who was at the bottom of all this? + +Clearly, he must look into things a little more before he did his final +disappearance! + +"Well, Mr. Douglas, you've helped me a whole lot. Now, as I say, I want +mental impressions. Tell me everything you can think of about the +atmosphere of the whole house, the--did you see Mrs. Crane?" + +"No, only the old man. There seemed to be quite a lot of people about, +coming and going. We had our interview in Mr. Crane's study, or +library----" + +"I know, the small room at the back of the house----" + +"Been there?" Douglas looked up quickly. + +"Read of it in the book," said Peter, quietly, annoyed at himself for +the slip. + +"Yes. Well, there's a table in the middle of the room, and in the drawer +of that table Mr. Crane keeps all the things' materialized by the +medium. I think he expects to get a big collection." + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned Peter, "_what_ a mess!" + +"Yes, isn't it?" Douglas assumed that the whole subject of Spiritism was +thus referred to. + +"Suppose anything happened to shake Mr. Crane's faith?" + +"I don't think anything _could_ do that. He's absolutely gullible. He'd +swallow anything. I say, how _do_ you explain it? Why is it that +big-brained, well-balanced men fall for this rot?" + +"They can't be really well-balanced,--and then, too, it's largely the +eagerness to believe, the desire for the comfort it brings them that +makes them think they do believe. And a clever medium can do much." + +"Sure. But those materializations! Where'd she get the goods?" + +"Give it up. Tell me more about Mr. Crane." + +So Douglas patiently recounted and repeated all the words of Peter's +father and told of his appearance and manner, under the impression that +he was helping an author with data for a psychological story. + +Peter had found Douglas by merely making inquiry for a bright young +reporter, and had made an agreement, satisfactory to both, for him to +try to get the interview with Benjamin Crane, and they would both profit +by it. + +He was delighted that Crane had asked the young man to call again, and +when they parted it was with the understanding that there should be +another interview arranged. + +Peter Boots had much food for thought. + +He sat thinking for hours after the food had been given to him. + +What was the explanation? What _could_ be the explanation? + +How could communications from a dead man be received when the man was +not dead? + +How he longed to go home, disclose himself, and run to earth that +fearful fraud! How gladly he would do so, except that it would ruin his +father's reputation. What would the public think of a man who had been +so taken in by fraud, and had blazoned it to the world. + +To be sure it was no reflection on Benjamin Crane's sincerity, yet he +would be the butt of derision for the whole country, and his discredited +head would be bowed for the rest of his life. + +Peter couldn't bring himself to do that, especially now that he had +discovered that his loss was not a source of hopeless grief to his +parents. + +"I'm not wanted in this world," he told himself, sadly, "I'm a +superfluous man. I've got to dispose of myself somehow," and he gave a +very realizing sigh. + +And the thought of Carly,--that tried to obtrude itself, he put +resolutely from him. + +"She's probably forgotten me," he assured himself, "and anyway I must do +the right thing by Mother and Dad first. If I decide that I can't +demolish their air castle, so carefully built up, I must light +out,--that's all." + +Trying hard to be cheerful, but feeling very blue and desolate he ate a +solitary dinner and went again to the theater to see "Labrador Luck." + +Douglas' graphic description of his home and his father had given him a +great longing to go there, to see the dear old place, the dear old +man,--and his mother, and Julie. + +He felt he _must_ go. Then, he knew he couldn't go, without breaking his +father's heart and life. + +"I broke his heart when I _didn't_ go home," he thought whimsically, +"now, I mustn't break it again by going home!" + +He sat through the moving picture performance again, and marveled anew +at the beauty of the production. It was far above the rank and file of +moving pictures, it was adjudged by all critics the very greatest +production ever put upon the screen. + +Shelby's name had become famous, his work was applauded everywhere, and +Peter yearned to see him and renew their friendship. + +But he knew he mustn't think of those things. First of all he had to +decide whether or not he was to come back to life, and if not,--and he +had a conviction that that would be his decision,--he must not dally +with tempting thoughts and hopes of any sort. + +But it was hard! Blair dead, Shelby famous, and he, Peter, unable to +talk things over with any relative, chum or friend. + +He must talk to somebody, and on his way out of the theater he spoke to +the box office man. + +"Wonderful show," he said, smiling at him. "Who's this Shelby?" + +"He's the big push of to-day," was the enthusiastic reply. "He's a +marvel of efficiency and generalship. And a big author, too." + +"He wrote the play as well as produced it, I see." + +"Yes. Oh, he can do anything." + +"Married man?" + +"No; but I've heard he's engaged to a girl,--a Miss Harper, I believe." + +Peter choked. The last straw! But he might have known,--he, himself, +supposed dead, Blair dead, what more natural than that Carly should turn +to old Kit? + +With a mere nod to the man who had unwittingly dealt him this final +blow, Peter walked out into the night. + +And he walked and walked. Up Broadway to the Circle, on up and into +Riverside Drive, and along the Hudson as far as he could go. + +Thinking deeply, planning desperately, only to be confronted with the +awful picture of his father's consternation at the shattering of his +beliefs and the collapse of his celebrity. + +At times he would tell himself he was absurdly apprehensive, that any +parents would rather have their lost son restored than to have the +applause and notoriety of public fame. And, then, he would realize that +while that might be generally true, yet this was a peculiar case. His +father was a proud, sensitive nature. Perhaps--Peter shuddered,--perhaps +he wouldn't love a son who by his return made him the most laughed at +man in the whole world! + +Peter longed to go to some one for advice. Shelby, now,--his big +efficient mind would know at once what was best to do. + +But he couldn't disclose himself to Kit and not to any one else. Kit +couldn't keep that a secret, even if he wanted to do so. + +And-- Kit was engaged to Carly! He never wanted to see either of them +again! + +Poor, lonely, troubled Peter. Only one plain, sure truth abided. He +_must_ do his duty, and he felt pretty sure he knew what that duty was. +It was to stay out of the life he had lost. + +There was no other possible course. + +He turned and retraced his steps southward, and finally went across +town, drawn as by a magnet to his own home. + +Home! What a mockery the word was! + +It was two o'clock in the morning now; he had been walking or sitting on +a Drive bench for hours. + +He was not conscious of fatigue, he only wanted to see his old home and +then go away forever. He didn't plan his future. He was sure he could +make a living easily enough, he felt he could build up a new life for +himself over a new name. But oh, how he longed for the old life! + +He stood in front of the house and stared at it. + +He walked round and round the block it was on, pausing each time he +passed the front door, and walking on, if there chanced to be a +passer-by. + +At last, he concluded to give up the painful pleasure of gazing at the +closed windows and go back to Brooklyn. + +His gaze traveled over the windows at the various rooms,--how well he +knew what they all were,--and at last he found himself looking at the +front door. How often he had let himself in with his latchkey. + +Involuntarily his hand went to his pocket, where that latchkey even now +was,--and hardly knowing what he was doing, he had the key in his hand +and was mounting the steps of his old home. + +Still as one in a daze, and with no intention of making his presence +known, but with an uncontrollable desire to see for the last time those +dear rooms, he silently fitted the key into place. + +Noiselessly he turned it and pushed the door open. + +The house was still, there were no lights on, save a low glimmer in the +front hall. + +He remembered that had always been left on. + +But the street lights faintly illumined the living-room, and he went in. +With a wave of desperate homesickness he threw himself on the big +davenport and buried his face into a pile of cushions. + +He couldn't go away,--he _couldn't_. + +But--he must! + +And so, he forced himself to put aside his emotion, he bravely fought +down his nostalgia, and promising himself one look into his father's +study he vowed to go directly after. + +He stepped into the little room where Douglas had been received. He +couldn't resist the temptation to look about it, and, cautiously he +snapped on the desk light. + +There was the table with the drawer in it. + +Carefully, Peter opened the drawer and saw for himself the tobacco +pouch, the handkerchief, and the letter, signed "Peter." + +He stared at it, amazed at the similarity to his own penmanship. + +"I'd like to stay, if only to ferret out the mystery of this rascally +fake!" he thought "But--oh, hang it! this rascally fake is the very +breath of life to Dad and Mother. No, Peter Boots, it can't be done! +You're out of it all and out of it all you must stay. Clear out of here +now, before you get in any deeper." + +He fingered the old tobacco pouch. + +"Heavens and earth!" he exclaimed to himself, as a sudden thought struck +him. "That's so!" + +Again he took up the letter, looking closely at the formation of the +words, studying the tenor of the message, and then, with a sigh, laid +all back in the drawer and gently closed it. + +"That way madness lies," he told himself, and turned to leave the room +and the house. + +As he reached for the light switch, a small hand laid on his own +detained him. + +Startled, he looked up and saw a witch-like, eerie face smiling at him. + +"Must you go?" whispered a mocking voice, and Peter Boots, for once in +his life was absolutely stricken dumb. + +Who or what was this sprite, this Brownie? What was she doing in his +father's house? Were materialized spirits really inhabiting the place? + +"Hush!" Zizi warned him, "don't speak above a whisper. Are you a +burglar?" + +Peter shook his head, unable to repress a smile, and his smile made the +same impression on Zizi that it had always made on everybody,--that of +absolute pleasure. + +"Who are you?" she asked, scarce breathing the words. + +"John Harrison," he returned, still smiling. "I'll go now, please." + +"Without further explanation?" + +"Yes, please." + +"All right, I'll let you out. I know all about you. You sent a chap here +to interview Mr. Crane,--and you're getting follow-up literature." + +"Right! Good night." + +And with a swiftness and silence born of the dire necessity of the +moment, Peter went to the front door, out of it and down the street in +record time. + +He turned the first corner, and walked rapidly many blocks, before +turning to see if he were followed. + +He was not, and he went on his way to Brooklyn, his life tragedy still +ahead of him, but relieved by the touch of comedy added by that +mysterious and wonderfully attractive girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +Zizi's Opportunity + + +The Blair case had come to a standstill. Although the police were still +making investigations, they were fairly well satisfied that Thorpe was +the guilty man and since he was jailed and awaiting trial, they rested +on their laurels. + +Pennington Wise was by no means sure of Thorpe's guilt, and Zizi was +certain of his innocence, but though these two were working hard, as yet +they had found no other definite suspect. + +"But you must, Zizi," wailed Julie. "You know as well as I do that Mac +never killed Gilbert. Now, find out who did!" + +Wise confessed himself baffled, but asked for a little more time before +admitting himself vanquished. + +"You see, Ziz," he said to his astute young helper, "there are so many +interesting side issues, that we get off the main track. I own up I'm +quite as much absorbed in this Spiritism racket as I am in the murder +case." + +"That's the trouble, Penny," Zizi returned, gravely. "You're scattering +your energies. And it won't do. You've got to concentrate on the Blair +murder. And you've got to get at it from a different angle. Suppose you +take a run out West and see that mother and sister. They may give you a +line on things." + +"I've been thinking I'd do that. There must be something in Blair's past +that can be unearthed and may prove enlightening. I could do it in a +week, and it might be time well spent." + +"Of course it would. And, truly, there's no way to look, here. I've +thought and thought but we've no hint or clew pointing to any one but +Thorpe,--and, it wasn't Thorpe." + +Then Zizi told him of the strange man she had seen in the Crane library +the night before. + +"And you let him get away! Why, Zizi?" + +"He was no burglar. I saw that. There was no use in alarming the house. +He was----" + +"Well?" + +"Oh, I knew at once who he was. He was the John Harrison who sent that +Douglas person here to interview Mr. Crane." + +"Well, is he to be allowed to walk in and out as he chooses! How did he +get in?" + +"I don't know, but I hope he'll come again. I like him. Why, Penny, he's +a gentleman." + +"But who is he? What's he up to?" + +"He didn't confide in me, but I know. He's the medium's agent. He comes +here and gets data and information and tells her and she works it off +on the Cranes. I saw through that at once. He must have a key and he +just walks in and helps himself, you see." + +"Absurd!" + +"Maybe; but that's what he does, all the same." + +"And he told you his name!" + +"Yes; but that's nothing. He'll have another name and another home +before night. These mediums resort to the strangest tricks to get their +stuff! Why, Penny, he was prowling in that drawer where the tobacco +pouch is, and I think he meant to take it away so they could +'materialize' it over again. I'm going to watch for him nights. He'll +come again." + +But Zizi was mistaken. John Harrison did not come again, though the girl +was alert to welcome him. + +Pennington Wise went West, to see the relatives of Blair, for it had +frequently been his experience that such inquiries into a man's early +life brought about useful knowledge. + +This left Zizi in a position of responsibility, to keep watch of +developments and to learn what she could from them. + +She was not so sure as Julie of Thorpe's innocence, but she meant to +find another suspect if one could be found, and she redoubled her +efforts. + +Zizi had become a welcome guest in the Thorpe household, and they all +admired and loved her. A most adaptable little piece, she fitted into +the family as if she belonged there, and she and Julie were warm +friends. + +She said nothing of the midnight intruder, being determined in her own +mind, that he was an emissary from the medium, Madame Parlato, whom Zizi +regarded as an absolute fake. To prove this was a desire of Zizi's mind +as well as to solve the mystery of the Blair murder. + +But her fondness for the Cranes was such, that she was not sure she +should expose the medium's trickery, even if she discovered it herself. +So she went on with her secret investigations, and at present they +included an inquiry into the matter of that reporter's visit and John +Harrison's appearance on the scene. + +Zizi had, of course, read Benjamin Crane's book, and in it had seen the +picture of Peter, but the portrait was so different in effect from the +bearded man whom she saw but indistinctly by the dim light in the +library that she never connected the two in her thoughts. + +But she thoroughly believed that the man in the library had come there +for the purpose of acquiring either information or materials for further +manifestations of the medium. She was sure that the tobacco pouch and +the handkerchief which had been "materialized" had been obtained in this +way and, she argued, the best way to find out, was to remain silent as +to John Harrison's call. + +When told by Mr. Crane of the visit of Douglas, the reporter, Zizi had +suspected something beneath the surface,--it did not seem plausible to +her, that the case was just as it was stated. + +And somehow, in the back of her astute little brain, she had a notion +that the Blair murder and the supernatural manifestations were in some +way connected, at least, indirectly. + +So she was merely receptive, and put herself in the way of learning all +she could of the medium's affairs without showing her own hand. She +obtained a detailed account of the _seances_ from the elder Cranes, and +each time she became not only more convinced of the medium's fraud, but +sure that the faker, more and more secure in her clients' credulity, was +growing both daring and careless. + +This, Zizi concluded, was her opportunity, and she hoped to profit by +her knowledge of the visit of John Harrison. + + * * * * * + +And meantime, the so-called John Harrison, whom Zizi had sized up so +mistakenly, was puzzling his head over the identity of the girl who had +seen him. + +He was not alarmed by fear of discovery, for he could change his name +and address at will, but he was piqued by the saucy announcement that +she knew all about him, and amazed at her knowledge that he had sent +Douglas to see Benjamin Crane. + +Moreover, the sight of that familiar old tobacco pouch of his own had +stirred him, and some logical deductions that followed in its train +caused him to reconsider his decision to disappear at once. + +"But I got to have some money," he reasoned, "and I think I know how to +get it!" + +As a matter of fact, he did. He had in his mind a plot for a moving +picture, which he had long cherished and thought over, but which he had +never put on paper. The success of Shelby's great picture put it in his +mind to try to sell his own. He was tempted to take it to the Shelby +corporation but knowing it wiser, he went to a rival company. + +As his plot was new, original and decidedly meritorious, he had no +trouble in finding a market. He learned that he could sell merely his +plot, that the "continuity" work would be done by their own people; and +delighted to receive a most satisfactory lump sum, John Harrison gave +his name as Louis Bartram, and removed to another hotel, where he +registered under his new name. + +For Peter Crane had resolved to do a little investigating on his own +hook, and he realized that since the girl at his home knew his present +cognomen it must be changed. + +Louis Bartram, therefore, sent for Douglas, and took that mystified +young man into his confidence to a degree. + +"It's this way, Douglas," he said, "I give you my word I'm straight and +all right, but I'm unraveling a mystery, and I'm incog for the present." + +Now nobody could look into Peter Crane's blue eyes and doubt his +veracity, and Douglas believed exactly what was told him. + +"Can I help?" he said, simply, and Louis Bartram told him he could. + +Wherefore, Bartram expeditiously acquired such information as he needed, +and the first item was the name and address of the medium who was +responsible for the _seances_ detailed in Benjamin Crane's famous book. + +And then to the house of Madame Parlato, Louis Bartram went, having made +an appointment through the useful Douglas. + +The madame's quick glance of inquiry was satisfied and her ever-ready +suspicions lulled by her first glance into Peter's eyes. It was +impossible to distrust that frank gaze, and though Peter was an +unbeliever in her and all her works, yet his cause was honest and +sincere and he met her on her own ground. + +"You want a _seance_?" the occult lady inquired. + +"No, Madame Parlato," Peter returned, quietly, "I want to bribe you to +undertake a commission for me." + +"Wh--what!" she cried, turning white and quite losing her poise at his +astonishing remark. + +"Now, let's cut out all that," Peter went on, practically, "let's assume +that we've thrashed it all out, and agreed that you're one of the +cleverest of your sort and can fool the gullible ones very neatly. But, +let's also assume that when one who knows comes along that you will +meet him halfway, and at least, listen to his proposition." + +"But, this,--this is outrageous----" + +"Not at all. You see, I know of the faking you have done,--and are +doing,--in the Crane matter." + +"Oh,--ah----" Madame cautiously awaited further speech from her +attractive but unusual caller. + +"Yes,--and," here Peter made a bold stroke, "I know who is giving you +things to 'materialize,' and why, and I want to know how much you are +being paid, in order that I may offer you more to follow my directions." + +"I do not acknowledge that you are right----" she began, but Peter +interrupted: + +"You needn't; your expression, your countenance tells me all I want of +acknowledgment. Now, listen to reason. I only want one _seance_, +conducted according to my orders, and I'll pay you what you demand. Your +other patron needn't know anything about my hand in the matter." + +"I refuse your requests, sir. I resent your accusations, and unless you +leave here at once, I shall call----" + +"Oh, no, you won't call the police, or any one else. You would greatly +object to an investigation of your place here, and you and I know why. +You'll do much better, madame, to listen to my proposition, and accept +it. You see,-- I _know_!" + +The mysterious tone Peter used seemed to carry conviction, and with a +little shudder, Madame Parlato gave in. + +"What do you want?" she asked, tremulously; "what do you intend to do?" + +"I intend to do a great many things," Peter replied, gravely, "but I +want very little. Only that you shall conduct a _seance_, at the time I +set and entirely in accordance with my orders." + +"And if I refuse?" + +"Then I shall feel it my duty to expose you as a fraud and a charlatan." + +The woman winced at these words, but meeting Peter's steely gaze and +realizing his power over her, she said: + +"First, tell me who you are." + +"I am Louis Bartram," he said, "you know that already. For the rest, I +am an investigator of psychic conditions and a student of the occult, +along certain definite lines. You will find it to your best advantage, +Madame, to be perfectly frank and truthful with me. Any other course you +will find most disastrous." + +"Are you--are you of the----" + +"Of the police? No, this is not an official investigation. And, +moreover, it all depends on yourself whether the results of our work +together are ever made public or not. Now, answer my questions. How did +you come to give these _seances_ to the Cranes?" + +"Mr. Crane came and asked me to." + +"Where had he heard of you?" + +"I was recommended to him by some friends of his." + +"Did you ever know his son, Peter?" + +"No; I never heard of him until Mr. Crane came here." + +"And then you immediately got into spiritual communication with the dead +man?" + +"Yes; that is my business." + +She spoke a little defiantly, and Peter smiled. "I know. I accept that. +Now, I'm a friend of the Cranes, because of having read that book. A man +who is so absolutely positive of his beliefs is too good and dear a man +to be disturbed in his enjoyment of them." + +"Oh, Mr. Bartram, I'm glad you see it that way, too! Truly, I've come to +love the Cranes, and if--if I help along a little, it is largely for the +comfort and happiness it gives them." + +"I know,-- I see; and I realize what an awful thing it would be if the +world were to learn that all the matter in his book is really false----" + +"Oh, it would kill him! If you knew Mr. Crane, if you knew how his very +life is bound up in this matter, you would be even more assured what a +disaster it would be to have him in any way discredited!" + +Peter's heart fell at this, for he had a half hope that he could yet +bring himself to demolish his father's air castle. + +"Well, then," he said, slowly, "I'll not discredit him, nor you, for, of +course, one involves the other. But this, on condition that you obey my +commands implicitly in this matter of a _seance_. If you fail me in one +particular, if you disobey one tiny detail, or, if you so much as hint a +word to your--your other employer,--I mean the one who has bribed you to +certain frauds,--then, I shall show you up, even if it does distress Mr. +and Mrs. Crane." + +Madame Parlato thought in silence for a moment. Then she said, astutely, +"I don't know who you are, Mr. Bartram, but I am quite certain you are +something more than you wish to tell. I mean a bigger factor in the +Crane affair than you admit. I ask no questions, I agree to your terms, +and I will do exactly as you direct, relying on your promise that if I +do so, you will not tell of any--any insincerity you may notice." + +"Wait a moment,--that promise may lead to complications. If the result +of my proposed procedure is to reveal your--er,--insincerity--I cannot +be responsible for the consequences. Those you will have to bear. But I +will admit that my interests are those of Benjamin Crane, and I shall do +all in my power to preserve his secrets and, thereby, yours." + +"I think, then, you may go ahead and tell me your plans that you wish me +to carry out." + +"I've revised them,'" Peter said, thoughtfully, "they may, as I now see +it, call for more than one _seance_. But here's for a starter. When do +you expect Mr. Crane again?" + +"To-morrow." + +"All right. Merely give him a further materialization. And let the +object be this,"--he laid a small paper parcel before her, which he had +taken from his pocket,--"yes,--and this," and he produced a second +parcel. + +She opened the papers, and found the first to be a handkerchief, the +duplicate of the one already "materialized" and bearing the monogram +Carly had so painstakingly embroidered. + +The other parcel contained a silver quarter of a dollar, one side of +which had been smoothed off and engraved with the entwined letters P. C. + +"These belonged to the son?" Madame exclaimed, excitedly. "Where did you +get them?" + +"From the son," replied Louis Bartram; "but remember you are under oath +of secrecy. You are merely to produce these things as materializations +at your next session with Mr. Crane, and also,--I want to be +present,--unseen. Can it be managed?" + +"Of course, that's easy enough." + +Further arrangements were made, terms were agreed on, and Louis Bartram +went away from the house of the medium in New York and returned to his +hotel in Brooklyn. + +And as he came down the steps of the Parlato residence, a small, dark +girl, who was walking by, quickly scuttled around a corner, and out of +his line of vision. + +"I knew it!" Zizi said to herself, exultantly, "he's in cahoots with the +spook woman! He's been there to give her things to materialize and soon +I'll hear of them! He came to the house and stole something which she +will use to fool poor old Mr. Crane. You'll see!" + +Zizi talked enthusiastically to herself, resolving to learn more of this +attractive young man's identity. + +"Clever, wasn't he?" she asked of herself, "to send that reporter around +first,--probably he stole a key to the house,--oh, it's a whole big +organization, I suppose, and they cover their tracks so completely +they're not even suspected." + +Acting on an impulse, she turned and went back to the house of the +medium. By strategy, she succeeded in getting an interview, although she +had no appointment. + +"I have come to warn you," she said, without preamble, looking into the +woman's eyes, "I am a detective, and I am onto your game. I know that +man who just left here, he is your tool, your accomplice. Also, I know +that he stole some things from the Crane house that you intend to use in +your so-called materializations. Now, I warn you that if you do that, I +shall see to it that your deceit is shown up, your fraud exposed!" + +"My Lord," cried the puzzled Madame, "who are you? Why do you think that +man is my accomplice? It is not so! I never laid eyes on him until this +morning!" + +"That is not true," Zizi said, sure of her ground, and wondering why the +medium looked so unfeignedly puzzled. "He works for you----" + +"He does not! He is a client. Now you leave, or I'll have you put out." + +"I am going to leave," and Zizi rose, "but you remember what I said. If +you show up any more materialized belongings of Mr. Crane's dead son, +I'll have you exposed and arrested!" + +It is doubtful which of the two was more perplexed by this conversation. + +Zizi, with her quick reading of human nature, saw that Madame Parlato +was truly surprised at the girl's accusation of an accomplice, +therefore, she decided, he could not be an accomplice, after all. And if +not, what was he, and what was he doing at the medium's house? + +That he was a client, she did not believe, for had she not seen him, +rummaging in the Crane library and in that table drawer? It was all most +mysterious and Zizi determined to stick to this new mystery in hopes it +would shed some light on the old ones. + +Meanwhile Madame Parlato was absolutely bewildered. Who was this strange +girl who had come flying in with an incredible tale about the new +client being an accomplice of her own? + +Nor did that question trouble her so much as the consideration of what +she should do next? She had arranged to have Mr. Crane at a _seance_ the +next evening, and to have Mr. Louis Bartram concealed in an adjoining +room, where he could see and hear without being discovered. + +Now, if she failed to use the objects he had directed her to use she +feared his ire and vengeance, while if she did use them, this awful +child, who called herself a detective, threatened exposure! + +To be sure, she told herself, that little scrap of humanity couldn't be +a detective, the thought was impossible. Yet the child's words and tones +had carried conviction. Indeed, she was no child, though small enough to +be one. She was either a detective, the Madame finally decided, or, she +was a fake medium herself, and had some unknown ax to grind. + +In any case, the way of the transgressor was hard, and the occult lady +thought a long time before she came to a decision. + +But the conclusion she reached was to obey the orders of Louis Bartram. +He was a far more formidable antagonist, there must be more real danger +in disobeying him than that chit of a girl. + +So Madame laid her plans, prepared her properties, and, with fear in her +heart, arranged for the forthcoming _seance_. + +And Zizi, worried and uncertain, in Wise's absence, as to just what she +should do, laid her plans to be present also at Benjamin Crane's next +session with the medium. + +And Peter Boots, communing with himself, and rapidly getting more and +more excited at his discoveries and the developments of his theories, +impatiently awaited the hour when he should see his father and perhaps +his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The Heart Helper + + +Never during her association with Wise, had Zizi wanted him so much as +she did at present. The situation, she felt, was too big for her to +handle, and the contradictory conclusions forced upon her bewildered +her. + +Public interest in the Blair murder had waned, or at least it was +waiting for the trial of McClellan Thorpe, and while the police were +ready to listen to any new evidence or theories, none seemed to be +forthcoming. + +Julie was in despair, feeling that the great Pennington Wise was making +no headway in his endeavors to free Thorpe, and Benjamin Crane too was +beginning to doubt Wise's ability. + +Zizi, therefore, felt the brunt of upholding her colleague's reputation +for cleverness and success, and now that things were getting so +complicated, and Penny Wise so far away, the girl felt her +responsibility almost greater than she could bear. + +But, she concluded, after deep thought, the first and most important +thing to be done was to locate that John Harrison. + +From Benjamin Crane she obtained the address of young Douglas, the +reporter, and went to see him. + +Douglas was greatly pleased with the appearance and manner of his +visitor, for Zizi was at her sparkling best, and that was very good +indeed. + +"You see, Mr. Douglas," she confided with a captivating smile, "I'm a +Heart Helper." + +"A what?" + +"Yes. I help people's hearts,--people who are sad or in trouble. Now, +I'm working in the interests of a dear friend, a lovely girl, whose +sweetheart is being most unjustly treated, and only I can set things +straight. Think of that!" + +The great dark eyes flashed an appealing glance at him, and Zizi's red +mouth took a sorrowful droop at the corners. + +Instinctively he yearned to bring back the smile and he said, promptly, +"Can I help you? Is that why you come to me?" + +"Exactly," and Zizi beamed at him, quite completing his undoing. + +"And what I want," she went on quickly, lest she lose her +suddenly-acquired power over him, "is only the address of Mr. John +Harrison." + +Douglas's face fell, and he plainly showed his embarrassment and +chagrin. + +"That I can't tell you," he began,--but paused at the look of despair +that came to Zizi's expressive face. + +"Oh, please," she begged. "It's so necessary,--so important. I won't +make any wrong use of the information. Please tell me." + +"But I can't, Miss Zizi. You see, Mr.--Harrison isn't where he was. +He--he isn't anywhere." + +Clearly, Douglas thought, he was making a mess of things. But what could +he say? + +"Are you making game of me?" Zizi's tone was wistful, and with her head +cocked to one side like an alert bird, she waited breathlessly for his +answer. + +"No, not a bit of it!" + +"But--you say--he isn't anywhere! What do you mean?" + +Still under the spell of her smile, her fascinating manner, and her +sweet, piquant little face, Douglas hesitated,--and was lost. + +"Well, you see, he,--he was somebody else. I mean he isn't,--that is, he +isn't himself." + +"Are you sure you are?" Zizi laughed outright, so infectiously, that +Douglas joined in. + +"No, I'm not!" he admitted. "Now, if you're not, either, we're all in +the same boat." + +But Zizi was not to be put off with foolery. + +"Mr. Douglas," she said, seriously, "truly, I'm on an important errand, +and one involving grave consequences. You can help greatly by giving me +that man's address, and help not only the girl of whom I spoke, but help +the cause of right and justice, even, perhaps, in a matter of life and +death. Don't refuse----" + +"But if I don't refuse, I must at least inquire. And, suppose I tell you +that Mr. Harrison does not want his address known?" + +"I assumed that. But, suppose I tell you that it may help to clear up +one of the greatest mysteries of the day if you will just give me a hint +where I can find that man. And, even though he has forbidden you to +tell, I think I can assure you that he won't mind my knowing the secret, +and if he does mind I'll persuade him to exonerate you." + +Zizi had meant to take quite a different tack,--use hints of legal +authority or suggest his duty to humanity, but intuition told her that +this man was best persuaded by coaxing,--and Zizi could coax! + +She succeeded only partly. After she convinced Douglas of the wisdom of +such a course he told her that John Harrison had been at the Hotel +Consul in Brooklyn, but had left there, and had left no further address. + +Moreover, he declared he had no knowledge whatever of the whereabouts of +John Harrison at the present time. + +"No!" and Zizi flashed a quizzical smile, "because he has changed his +name! I know that from your emphatic declaration! But I'll find him. +Good-by." + +Zizi betook herself forthwith to the Hotel Consul. + +A polite clerk informed her that Mr. Harrison had checked out, leaving +no address. + +Determinedly she interviewed the cab drivers ranked in front of the +hotel, and by a lucky chance found the one who had driven Mr. Harrison +away. A proper bribe brought the knowledge that he had been driven to +the Wilfer, a much smaller hotel nearby. + +To the Hotel Wilfer Zizi went, and learned there was no John Harrison +there, but a very few inquiries proved to her astute intellect that the +Louis Bartram, who was the only guest registered at that time on that +afternoon, was in all probability the man she sought. At any rate there +was no harm in trying. + +She asked for an interview, and was connected with Mr. Bartram's rooms +by telephone. + +"I want to see you again," she said, in response to his Hello,--"Let me +come up, Mr. Midnight Visitor, please." + +Partly the pleading voice, partly the fact that Peter was eager for new +developments in his devious course, and partly a sudden recollection of +the girl he had seen in his father's library, brought about a cordial +invitation to "come along." + +And Zizi exultantly went, hoping against hope that she was on her way to +learn something of real importance. + +For so many hopeful openings had proved blind alleys, so many bright +prospects of success had dimmed on nearer view, that Zizi had begun to +lose heart, and this seemed to her perhaps a last chance. + +Peter received her in his sitting room, and as the big dark eyes looked +deep into the chicory blue ones, and both smiled, it was impossible to +be formal. + +"Why are you a burglar, Mr. Bartram," Zizi said, as she seated herself +sociably in the depths of a big armchair. "You don't look the part a +bit." + +"What is _your_ calling?" he countered; "for unless it is that of a +witch or Brownie, I'm sure _you_ don't look it." + +"I am all of those things," she announced, calmly, crossing her dainty +feet and gazing guilelessly at him. "I'm a witch, a Brownie, a sprite, +an elf, a kobold, a pixie----" + +"That's enough. They're all tarred with the same brush. And why am I +favored with this angel visit?" + +"So you may answer my question, which you so rudely ignored. Why are you +a burglar?" + +"But I'm not. Can your ingenuity suggest no explanation of a man's +presence in another man's house at midnight save a burglarious motive? I +took no jewels nor plate away with me." + +"So you didn't. But, I admit motives seem scarce. You were not intending +a social call, were you? You didn't come to read the meter or repair the +plumbing? You were not seeking a lodging for the night?" + +"None of those, Miss Brownie. But, why am I obliged to tell?" + +"Because I ask it," and Zizi's pretty powers of coaxing were put to the +utmost test. + +"I admit that constitutes an obligation, but, I am not going to meet +it," and the big man settled back comfortably in his chair and smiled +benignly but a trifle exasperatingly. + +"Then,--" and the little brown face became serious, the merry light went +out of the dark eyes, and Zizi said, coldly, "Then I will tell you. You +are a burglar,--you did take valuables from Mr. Crane's house,--at least +they were valuable to you, though perhaps of small intrinsic worth." + +"Whatever _do_ you mean?" + +"I mean that you are the accomplice of that woman who calls herself a +medium,--that woman who is a fraud, a fake, a miserable charlatan! You +came to the house to get some more belongings of Mr. Crane's dead +son's,--in order to take them to the Parlato woman and let her trade +further on an old man's credulity! That's what you were there for!" + +Zizi's nerves were at high tension. She thoroughly believed every word +she said, and she felt that perhaps the best way to make this man own up +was to put the case thus straightforwardly. + +Peter Boots looked at her, his expression changing from amazement to +amusement and then to sympathy. + +"No," he said gently, "I didn't do that. I swear I didn't." + +"Then why were you there?" + +Uncertain what to say, Peter just sat and looked at her. + +And somehow,--by some subtle intelligence or telepathic flash--all of a +sudden,--Zizi knew! + +"Oh," she breathed, her eyes like stars, "oh,--you're Peter Boots!" + +Slowly, Peter nodded his head. + +"Yes," he said, "I am. Now, what are we going to do about it?" + +"Do about it? Why, everything! Oh,--wait a minute,--let me take it +in,--let me think what it will mean----" + +"To father? Yes, I know." + +These two, so lately strangers, were immediately at one. Zizi, with her +instantaneous understanding and quick appreciation saw the whole +situation at once, and realized fully its tragedy. + +"It can't be, you know," she cried out; "it mustn't be! Think of +the----" + +"I know," returned Peter, "I've thought." + +Instead of being appalled at the knowledge that his secret was out, +Peter felt a positive relief, a sudden let-down of his strained nerves, +and a queer sensation of confidence in this strange girl's powers to set +things right. + +Peter's intuitions were quick and true; Zizi was not only charming, but +gave an effect of capability and efficiency that were as balm and +comfort to poor, harassed Peter. + +He was willing to nail his colors to her mast; to give his affairs and +perplexities into her hands; to abide by her decisions. + +And Zizi accepted the tremendous responsibility gravely. + +"But it is all too wonderful," she said. "What happened? Where have you +been?" + +"Two broken legs,--compound fractures,--frozen +feet,--gangrene--ugh!--fierce--cut it out!" + +"The gangrene!" cried Zizi, horrified. + +"Yes, but I didn't mean that. I meant can the description of my +sufferings! They'd put the early Christian martyrs to the blush. They +would indeed! But let's take up the tale from the present moment." + +"Oh, wait a minute,--do! Who rescued you? Why haven't you----" + +"Lumbermen,--camp, miles from any sort of a lemon. Couldn't get into +communication. Fiercest winter ever known,--everything cut off from +everything else. Came home the minute I could,--and,--oh, thunder! how I +want to know things! Tell me heaps, do! And who are you, anyway?" + +"Heavens, what a tale! Yes, I'll tell you everything, but what shall I +fly at first? And--oh, I can't stand the responsibility of your secret! +I can't! Why are you keeping it secret? On account of your father?" + +"Yes, that's the sole reason. How can I come forward,--the son who is +supposed dead,--who is supposed to come back as a spook,--the son who +has had a book written about him----" + +"Oh, what a situation! And your father so wrapped up in the whole +business,--so positive in his beliefs----" + +"And that rascally medium!" + +"And those wicked materializations!" + +"And the fool Ouija Board!" + +"And that letter from you to Julie--oh, I say!" + +"And _I_ say! But, tell me, what can I do? Do you see it as I do? That I +must go away again, disappear forever,--or----" + +"Or break your father's heart,-- I mean,--oh, I don't know what I mean! +Mr. Peter, I think I'll lose my mind!" + +"I've almost lost mine, puzzling over the thing. But I've put the kibosh +on that Parlato!" + +"Oh, that's why you were there! I got things all wrong, didn't I? And +you came to your own home----" + +"Only because of a terrible attack of homesickness. You see, I still +have my latch key, and if you hadn't seen me, I should have merely had a +good look around, and then silently steal away, without, however, +stealing anything else!" + +Zizi smiled at her accusation of his burglarious intent, and then sat +musing. + +"I can't grapple with it," she said, at last. "It's too big. I shall +telegraph for Mr. Wise. He must come back at once and help us." + +"Now, look here, Miss Zizi, I'm not lying down on this job myself. I'm +not asking you to carry my burdens or fight my battles. I am very much +able to hoe my own row,--only I fear it's going to be a hard one. I'm +going to depend on you for help, if I may, but I'll take the helm; Peter +Boots leads, he doesn't follow." + +Zizi gazed at him, her eyes moist with emotional admiration. This man, +this splendid, fine man,--to efface himself to save his father's +reputation,--it was too bad! She couldn't stand it. + +"Now, wait," she began; "wouldn't your father,--your mother,--rather +have you back with them in the flesh,--than to have their pride spared?" + +"Answer that yourself," he returned. "I admit that if that question were +put to them, they would doubtless say yes. But that's not the thing. The +point is, they're reconciled to my loss, happy in the experiences +they're having,--delusions though they are,--and contented, even +exultant, in things as they are. Why disturb that happiness, for my +selfish reasons? Why not leave them to their Fools' Paradise,--for +that's what it is,--and not take the chance of what might easily be a +distressing disillusion?" + +"It would indeed be that," Zizi spoke gravely; "I know it would. But +what will you do?" + +"Go 'way off somewhere,--start fresh,--make a new name and fame for +myself and forget----" + +"Sacrifice your own identity to your father's reputation?" + +"Exactly that,--and, simply, it is my duty." + +"And Carlotta Harper?" + +Peter jumped. + +"Tell me about Carly," he said, speaking thickly. "Is she engaged to +Shelby?" + +"No, she isn't!" + +"I heard she was." + +"Probably he hinted it, and the report started. He's eternally after +her, but, to my certain knowledge she hasn't yet said yes." + +"Oh, my God! Dear little Carly! What can I do?" + +"She would go with you,--into a new life----" + +"No; don't be absurd! This secret must be kept inviolably. Nor could I +marry her under an assumed name, even if she were willing. Also, she may +have forgotten me." + +"No, she has not. Oh, Mr. Peter, you must come home." + +"I can't. But tell me more,--tell me of mother, of Julie,--why, I sent a +reporter to the house just to get a line on home life,--on present +conditions,--oh, little girl, you don't know what I suffered; it's all +so foolish,--so absurd,--the spook stuff, I mean,--yet, as I've learned, +it's the very breath of life to my Dad." + +"It is; but, look at the thing from another angle. Couldn't you help +unravel the Blair mystery. Here's Mr. Thorpe held for a crime I don't +think he committed; here's Julie crying her eyes out because of it----" + +"Julie! She and Thorpe!" + +"Yes, didn't you know that?" + +"No; are they engaged?" + +"In a way. If Thorpe should be freed Mr. Crane will give his consent. If +Thorpe is convicted----" + +"He shan't be convicted! He never killed Blair! I'll find out who killed +Blair, and then I'll go away after that. I'll help Julie,--why, Thorpe +wouldn't kill Gilbert, why should he?" + +"You've read the case?" + +"Yes, and thought how little evidence there was against Thorpe. But, I'm +ashamed to say, my own affairs rather blotted the matter out. But if +Julie's concerned, that's another matter. I'll free Thorpe,--and I can +do it, too!" + +"Then it's most certainly your duty, for many reasons. Look here, Mr. +Peter, don't let your ideas of duty get over-sentimental regarding your +father." + +"Oh, I don't!" Peter waxed impatient. "But I've mulled over the thing to +the very end, and I know, I _know_ father would be happier left to his +delusions. Yes, and mother, too. You see, I've read the book, and +knowing Dad as I do, I read between the lines, and I see how it would be +like stabbing his heart and draining his life blood to stultify that +book. No, Zizi, don't tempt me,--indeed, you can't." + +"Well, then, come back to the murder case. Have you any suspect other +than Thorpe?" + +"Why, sometimes, I think I have. But it's a serious thing to accuse, +without evidence. Now, I think I can get evidence, but mainly from +Madame Parlato. You see, she has been bribed by a powerful +influence,--she is absolutely under orders from some one, and it is +because of that she is so frightened for fear of exposure. I think in +the ordinary _seance_ with my father, where my spirit--ugh!--appears and +talks guff and rubbish, the medium is more fool than knave. But when the +spirit gives information concerning the murderer,--and wrong +information,--it's criminal work itself, and ought to be shown up." + +"Showing up the medium would expose the falsity of your father's book, +even without your reappearance." + +"I've thought of that, but there's duty there, too. If I can free Mac +Thorpe from unjust accusations, and incidentally, I'm thinking of +Julie,--it's in all ways my duty to do so,--even if----" + +"Even if it makes your father a butt for ridicule." + +"Yes, even that. All things are matters of comparison. Thorpe's life, or +even Thorpe's name mustn't be sacrificed to father's feelings. I may +sacrifice my own future, even my own life if I choose, but not that of +another." + +"Are you sure Mr. Thorpe is innocent?" + +"As sure as shooting! But you must tell me all the details of your +investigations. I've studied the newspaper reports, but I want your +accounts, too. When can you get Wise back here? Send for him at once, +will you? He can't get anything on Blair out there. Blair's life was +blameless. I know it as I know my own. Why, Zizi, you don't realize,-- +I've lived with my family and my friends for a whole long lot of years. +I'm no newcomer, except regarding the last six months. You can't tell me +of Blair's character, or Thorpe's either. Now, what I want to puzzle out +is whether I can do my part in producing the real murderer, without +revealing my presence here and without even showing my hand in the +matter." + +"You might appear as your own spook." + +"I've thought of that, and it offers wide possibilities. But it isn't +fair to mother and Dad. Let the medium fool them, if she will, it's not +for their own son to fool them, too! No, I can't do that." + +"You might appear to the--the criminal." + +"And give him the scare of his life! Yes, I might do that. But I'm not +yet sure he is the criminal,--I'm basing my suspicion on generalities, +not any specific evidence." + +"Tell me his name." + +"Not yet. Let's plan a little first. You see, I've arranged a fake +_seance_ with Madame Parlato. If I rearrange it a bit, it may serve our +purpose. I'll postpone it until Mr. Wise can get back, and then we'll +see what we shall see!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +The Confession + + +Peter Boots arranged and rearranged his plans for the _seance_ many +times. + +Though still living under the name of Louis Bartram, he had cast aside +fear of having his real identity discovered, pretty sure, now, that it +must come sooner or later. + +His present concern was with the discovery of Blair's murderer, and +thereby the freeing of his sister's fiance. These accomplished he would +consider the case of his own restored identity, if it were not by that +time a foregone conclusion. + +Pennington Wise came back from the West, and was let into the secret. + +His amazement was beyond all bounds when Zizi took him over to the +Brooklyn hotel and he met Peter Crane. + +"This thing has never been equaled in my experience," he declared. "And +no one but Zizi could have found you out, unless you chose to make +yourself known. Now, we must move warily,--your quarry may get away." + +"You know whom I suspect?" asked Peter in astonishment. + +"Of course I do, and I've had the same suspect from the beginning. But I +couldn't get a shred of evidence,--haven't any yet,-- I say, Mr. Crane, +suppose you confide in me fully. You'll have no cause to regret it." + +So Peter Boots and Pennington Wise and Zizi had a long confab, in which +all cards were laid on the table, and all details of the plan settled. + +Wise agreed that it would be a fearful blow to Benjamin Crane's pride, +but he held that the author of the book about Peter would receive no +blame and the fame of the affair would be world-wide, which would make +up for the blow to the author's vanity. + +Peter was not convinced of this, but agreed to go ahead as Wise +suggested. Indeed, he had no choice, for it now rested on his statements +whether an innocent man was tried for crime or not. + +The medium was completely suborned. She was instructed that if she +obeyed orders implicitly and succeeded in fulfilling the desires of her +new employers, she would be paid a large sum of money, and enabled to +leave the country secretly and safety. + +For, after all, she was doing no more than the great army of "mediums" +all over the world, and if she achieved good at last, they wished no +harm to come to her. + +"Moreover," as Peter said, "she was a great comfort to my parents in my +absence, and when they know of my presence, they'll have no further use +for Madame!" + +The _seance_ was staged in the Crane home. + +It was a simple matter for Madame Parlato to persuade Benjamin Crane to +allow her to hold a session there, promising him a probable +materialization of his son, if allowed to attempt it in the scenes +familiar to Peter Boots. + +It was pathetic to see the hope and joy on the faces of Peter's father +and mother as they were offered this experience. Gladly they accepted +the proposition, and when the medium further advised them to invite a +few friends, they willingly did so. + +It was not announced that materialization was expected,--Madame Parlato +preferred it should not be, she said; so the friends were merely asked +to a _seance_. + +After all, Zizi, who had charge of the invitations informed them, +interest must be falling off, for no one was coming except Miss Harper, +who would also bring Mr. Shelby. + +However, with the Crane household, that made quite a group, and as +Detective Weston had heard about it, and asked to be present he also had +a seat, in the rear of the room. + +There was no air of secrecy, the waiting audience were receptive, +hopeful or skeptical as their natures prompted. + +Shelby and Carlotta whispered to each other that they were glad to see +a specimen of the genius that had hoaxed so able a mind as Benjamin +Crane's. Julie was out of sorts and sad, for she disliked the whole +subject, and pitied her father and mother for their absorption in it. + +At last Madame Parlato appeared. + +She was an impressive looking woman, tall, slender, and with the +traditional long green eyes and red hair. Her face was very white, but +she was calm and well-poised, and seemed to feel a great sense of +responsibility. + +She had not been informed of Peter's identity, but she knew him to be +acquainted with the man whom she still considered dead, and she knew +that Mr. Bartram was to impersonate Peter Crane. + +She asked the eight people present to sit in a circle and join hands, +allowing herself to make one of them. + +Weston flatly refused to do this, saying he preferred to sit alone at +the back of the room. He did so, and took his place near the door of the +small library of Mr. Crane's, the session being held in the large living +room. + +The medium requested that the lights be shut entirely off, saying that +sufficient illumination would come in from the street to prevent total +darkness. + +This proved to be true, and the dim light was just enough for them to +distinguish one another's forms but not faces. + +"Poppycock," whispered Shelby to Carlotta, as he held her hand. + +Zizi, who sat on Shelby's other side, heard it and answered, +"Absolutely." + +Then the usual things happened. The medium went into a trance state, and +the regular proceedings took place. + +She gave messages to Mr. Crane, purporting to be from his dead son. She +gave messages to Julie and to Peter's mother, all vapid and meaningless +and mentally scoffed at by all present, except the two elderly +listeners. + +At last the medium said, "I am weary,--weary,--I would sleep. The spirit +of Peter Crane himself would speak to you." + +"Will you?" eagerly asked Benjamin Crane, "will you speak yourself, +Peter?" + +"Yes, father," came a reply, and everybody started. + +Surely that was Peter's own voice! Not loud, almost a whisper, but with +the unmistakable cadence and tone of Peter, himself. + +"That's Peter!" cried Julie, excitedly, "oh, father, is it?" + +"Hush, dear," her father said, himself greatly agitated. "One must be +very calm and quiet on these occasions. Peter Boots, will you talk with +us?" + +"Gladly, Dad," came the voice again,--seeming to emanate from behind +Detective Western's chair,--as indeed it did. + +"Then tell us of yourself, my boy." + +Mrs. Crane said no word, but sat, her hand in that of her husband, full +of faith in the genuineness of it all, and ready to listen and believe. + +"I am very happy here, father," Peter's voice declared,--and Zizi bit +her lip to keep from smiling at the hackneyed phrase uttered by mortal +tongue! + +"You sound so real, Peter," Julie said, bluntly. "Is it always like +this?" + +For Julie had never attended a _seance_ before. + +"No, sister," the voice said, speaking more clearly with every word; +"this is an unusual occasion. Perhaps,--perhaps the medium can bring +about materialization to-night." + +"Oh, don't," Julie cried out, "I'm scared!" + +"Don't be frightened, Julie," Peter said, his voice faint again, "I +won't hurt you." + +The well-remembered gentleness reassured Julie, and she held tight to +her parents' hands and listened. + +"I have a message for each of you," the voice went on; "or you may each +ask me a question, as you prefer." + +"I'll ask," Julie exclaimed; "Peter, dear Peter Boots, tell me that Mac +never killed Gilbert. I know it, yet I want you to say so. They told me +you didn't know, and that you were misinformed and all that. You do +know, don't you, Peter?" + +"Yes, Julie, I know. And Mac didn't kill Gilbert at all. But I know who +did. Shall I tell?" + +"Yes," cried out several in chorus. + +And then, from out the dark shadows behind Weston's chair, there slowly +appeared a dark, cloaked form. A black-draped, hooded figure, that moved +slowly toward them. A tall, big figure that seemed to loom out of the +darkness, and then the hood fell back a little, a white ghostly face +appeared dimly and a slowly raised hand pointed to Kit Shelby. + +"Thou art the man!" came in low, accusing tones, and they were +unmistakably Peter's. + +Julie shrieked, and the accused man gave a strange, guttural sound, +expressive of abject fear, and as the tall figure drew nearer, he rose +to flee from its avenging shape. + +Shelby didn't go far, for his progress was stopped by the burly form of +Detective Weston, who advised him to sit down. + +"Confess!" went on the figure that seemed to be Peter, and with wild +eyes, fairly starting from their sockets at the sight, Shelby cried out, +"I did, oh, Peter, I did!" and then he fell in a convulsion of fright +and terror. + +And then, Peter Boots himself switched on the lights, threw off his long +cloak, and turned to take his mother in his arms. + +"My boy, my boy!" she said, knowing intuitively and instantaneously +that it was her son, alive and found. + +Benjamin Crane was a picture of utter perplexity. Unable to accept the +obvious, he tried for a moment to believe in a marvelous +"materialization," but Peter came to him, smiling and holding out an +eager hand. + +"Welcome me home, Dad," he said, a quiver in his strong voice. "I know +what a shock it is, but brace up and meet it,-- I'm here, and very much +alive. In fact, I never have been dead at all." + +"Peter,--Peter," his father muttered, and fearing ill effects, Zizi came +quickly to his side. + +"Yes, Mr. Crane," she said in her brisk little way. "Peter Boots, home +again. Never mind the spook stuff now. Cut it out,--forget it,--let him +tell us of his adventures." + +And now Carly came toward Peter. + +One glance passed between them, and she was in his arms, a smiling, +sweet Carly, who kissed him right before everybody, and said +triumphantly, "I knew you'd come back!" + +"Of course," said Peter, happily holding her to him. "I had to, the +gypsies prophesied it, you know. They didn't mean come back as a silly +old spirit, they meant come back in the flesh, and here I am. Kit, old +man, I'm sorry." + +And there was infinite sorrow and pity in the face that Peter turned on +Shelby, who was still trembling and mouthing in a vain effort to speak. + +"Get his confession," said Wise, lest when the shock wore off Shelby +might dare deny it all. + +But he couldn't speak, and out of very pity, Peter said, "I'll tell the +details, and Shelby can nod assent." + +"Go ahead," said Weston, his eye on his prisoner. + +"I'll not tell of my experiences now, only to say there is no blame to +be attached to Shelby or to Blair or to the guide for my accident. I +fell in the snow, and somehow so managed to double my half-frozen legs +under me that the silly things both broke. I floundered in the drifts +but couldn't get up, nor could I make the boys hear my shouts, for the +wind was against me. Well, I was picked up--after many hours--by some +lumbermen and my tale of woe thereafter would fill a set of books. But +never mind that now, I got home just as soon as I possibly could, having +been absolutely unable to get a letter here any sooner than I could come +myself. I came back to find that Dad, supposing me dead, had written a +book,--oh, my eye! Dad, how you did butter me! Well, then I was up a +stump to know whether to make my joyous presence known and spill the +beans entirely or whether to sneak off, disappear forever and leave Dad +to his laurel and bay." + +"Peter! how could you dream of such a thing!" Benjamin Crane was himself +now. "I'd a million times rather have you back than to have written all +the books in the world!" + +"But, father, think what people will say! I understand your book is read +and discussed from pole to pole----" + +"And it may be hooted at from pole to pole for all I care! Oh, Peter! +Peter Boots! Good old chap!" + +Peter's blue eyes beamed. The thing that had worried him most had turned +out all right. Moreover, Carly seemed still kindly disposed toward him. + +Remained only the dreadful business of Shelby and that must be put +through. + +"Then," Peter resumed, "I came home, and found old Gilbert Blair was +dead. Murdered. And Mac Thorpe arrested for the crime. + +"I know Thorpe, and I know he never did it. And I wondered. Then I read +in father's book about that old tobacco pouch of mine being +'materialized.' So I knew there was trickery afoot. For I had handed +that pouch to Kit only a short time before I fell down. And he hadn't +handed it back. So, that accounted for its presence in the possession of +the medium, though it didn't necessarily incriminate Shelby. He might +have lost it or had it stolen from him. + +"But, next I went to the Picture Show of 'Labrador Luck.' That, or at +least the plot, the backbone of it, was Blair's and mine. Together we +doped it out, sitting by our camp fire up there in the wilds, old Kit +dozing near by. He talked with us about it now and then, but his plans +were different from ours. All for a monster, spectacular production +which he has achieved, while Blair and I planned a little light comedy +affair. But the plot, the great theme of the thing, was Blair's,--and I +denounce Kit Shelby as the murderer of Gilbert Blair for the purpose of +using that plot alone and in his own way! Another motive lay in the fact +of his admiration for Carlotta Harper, whom, he thought, Blair was about +to marry. + +"And, if these do not seem to you, Mr. Weston and Mr. Wise, sufficient +motive for murder, I will inform you that Blair had discovered Shelby's +visits to the medium, Parlato, and had learned that it was he who was +responsible for the tobacco pouch, the handkerchief and that forged +letter. Blair discovered or suspected all this, and went to the medium +and forced her to admit he was correct. + +"Wherefore, Shelby had to be exposed and ruined, or--had to close +Blair's lips forever. He chose the latter course. The method was by a +poisoned soda mint, as has been suspected, and this I know, because +Shelby and I talked over methods of murder, when we were discussing +detective stories, and he detailed to me the very plan that I am sure he +used himself, that of putting one poisoned pellet in a bottle of plain +ones, and letting the result happen when it might. His argument was, +that the murderer would be far from the scene at the time death took +place. These statements I submit, and if Christopher Shelby can deny or +refute them, none will be more glad than I." + +Shelly maintained a sullen silence, refusing to look at Peter at all. + +But Weston adjured him to reply to the accusations with either +confession or denial, and he muttered: "Of course it's all true. I got +in deeper and deeper and there was no way out but to do for Blair. I +began giving the medium things just for fun,--the whole matter seemed to +me such rubbish, and I never dreamed Mr. Crane would take it so +seriously. Then when he did, and when Blair found out I had primed the +medium, and when I wanted his play and he wouldn't let me have it, and +when I wanted his girl,--and when he declared he would expose the medium +business,--I fell for the temptation. That's all." + +He lapsed again into utter dejection and Weston led him away before he +should collapse utterly. + +"Now, Julie, you can have your Mac," Peter went on, smiling at his +sister. "It's too late to-night----" + +"Not a bit of it," declared Penny Wise, "come along, Miss Crane, I'll +take you to him, and let you tell him yourself, and I shouldn't be +surprised if he came back with you." + +The two went off joyfully, leaving Peter to be lionized and petted by +his adoring people. + +Madame Parlato had long since disappeared, being allowed to get away +unmolested because of the help she had been. + +Then Peter and his parents had a talk, while Carlotta just sat and +looked at the group, knowing her turn would come. Zizi, too, like a +little _dea ex machina_, sat, gloating over the outcome of it all. + +Benjamin Crane utterly refused to listen to a word of regret at his +discredited book,--he only laughed happily and declared it was a joke on +himself, and he didn't care what the result might be or what loss he +might suffer in reputation or in pocketbook. + +Mrs. Crane said little but she held tight to the hand of her boy, and +lost herself in an oblivion of happiness. + +And then, turning to Carlotta, Peter said, "And you thought I'd never +come back?" + +"Peter," Carly said, "I'm an expert Ouija Boarder. I have the reputation +of making the Board say whatever I want it to. But my own theory is, +that the little pointer always goes straight to the message that the +performer wants. And whenever I tried it alone, and asked it if you'd +come back to me,--it said you would." + +Peter smiled at her, a little quizzically. + +"I don't know, Carly, whether you're making that up or whether you mean +it, but it doesn't matter, I did come back,--and I came back to +you,--and for you. Which, being interpreted, means, that when you're +ready to go home, I'll walk along with you. I'll have time to see the +family here to-morrow." + +Whereupon Carly smiled happily, and they two "walked along." + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Come Back, by Carolyn Wells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COME BACK *** + +***** This file should be named 30868.txt or 30868.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/8/6/30868/ + +Produced by Annie McGuire. 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