his?" wrote the spirit hand.

"Perfectly," she scrawled in turn. "Go ahead, as you promised."

The upper stylus was now moving freely at the ends of its two rigid
arms, counterparts of those holding the lower stylus.

"We promise," it wrote, "that in consideration of the return..."

"What is it?" interrupted Graeme, as the meaning of the words even now
began to dawn on him.

"A telautograph," she replied simply, "a long distance writer which I
have had installed over a leased wire from the hotel room of Wickham to
meet the demands of you two. With it you write over wires just as with
the telephone you talk over wires. It is as though you took one of the
old pantagraphs, split it in half, and had each half connected only by
the telephone wires. While you write on this transmitter, their
receiver records for them what you write. Look!"

"... of $500,000," it continued to write, "in cash, stocks and bonds,
with interest to date, all proceedings against Graeme Mackenzie will be
dropped and the indictment quashed.

"Marshall Taylor, Pres. Central Western Trust."

"Maxwell Wickham, District Att'y."

"Riley Drummond, Detective."

"It is even broader than I had hoped," cried Constance in delight.
"Does that satisfy you, Graeme?"

"Y-yes," he murmured, not through hesitation, but from the suddenness
and surprise of the thing.

"Then sign this."

She wrote quickly: "In consideration of the dropping of all charges
against me, I agree to tell the number and location of the safe deposit
box in New York where the stocks and bonds I possess are located and to
hand over a key and written order to the same. I now agree immediately
to pay by check the balance of the half million, including interest."

She stepped aside from the machine. With a tremor of eagerness he
seized the stylus and underneath what she had written wrote boldly the
name, "Graeme Mackenzie."

Next Constance herself took the stylus. "Place in the telautograph a
blank check," she wrote. "He will write in the name of the bank, the
amount, and the signature."

She did the same. "Now, Graeme, sign this cheek on the Universal Bank
as Lawrence Macey," she said, writing in the amount.

Mechanically he took the stylus. His fingers trembled as he held it,
but with an effort he controlled himself. It was too weird, too uncanny
to be true. Here he was, without stirring forth from the security of
his hiding place; there were his pursuers in their hotel. With t