-entered the room.

"Garett," he inquired, "is Mr. Hallowell awake yet?" As he asked the
question his eyebrows rose; with an almost imperceptible shake of the
head he signaled for an answer in the negative.

"Well, there you are!" the Judge exclaimed heartily. "I can't wake him,
even to oblige you. In a word, gentlemen, Stephen Hallowell has never
been in better health, mentally and bodily. You can say that from
me--and that's all there is to say."

"Then, we can say," persisted Irving, "that you say, that Walsh's story
is a fake?"

"You can say it is not true," corrected Gaylor. "That's all, gentlemen."
The audience was at an end. The young men moved toward the hall and
Judge Gaylor turned to the bedroom. As he did so, he found that the new
man on the Republic still held his ground.

"Could I have a word with you, sir?" the stranger asked. The reporters
halted jealously. Again Gaylor showed his impatience.

"About Mr. Hallowell's health?" he demanded. "There's nothing more to
say."

"No, it's not about his health," ventured the reporter.

"Well, not now. I am very late this morning." The Judge again moved to
the bedroom and the reporter, as though accepting the verdict, started
to follow the others. As he did so, as though in explanation or as a
warning he added: "You said to always come to you for the facts."
The lawyer halted, hesitated. "What facts do you want?" he asked. The
reporter bowed, and waved his broad felt hat toward the listening men.
In polite embarrassment he explained what he had to say could not be
spoken in their presence.

Something in the manner of the stranger led Judge Gaylor to pause. He
directed Garrett to accompany the reporters from the room. Then, with
mock politeness, he turned to the one who remained. "I take it, you are
a new comer in New York journalism. What is your name?" he asked.

"My name is Homer Lee," said the Southerner. "I am a New Orleans boy.
I've been only a month in your city. Judge," he began earnestly, but in
a voice which still held the drawl of the South, "I met a man from home
last week on Broadway. He belonged to that spiritualistic school on
Carondelet Street. He knows all that's going on in the spook world,
and he tells me the ghost raisers have got their hooks into the old man
pretty deep. Is that so?"

The bewilderment of Judge Gaylor was complete and, without question,
genuine.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

"My informant tells me," co