doctors. You are so in the habit of
dealing with hysterical women and hypochondriacs that you forget that a
_man_ is shaped by nature to bear the naked truth without having it
rigged up beforehand in a lot of fluff to disguise its shape. I think I
understand. I may live a while longer. And I may not. The same thing
could be said of every one."

McPherson tried to speak, then turned and made blindly for the door.

"Wait a minute!" called Grimm.

McPherson halted. Peter crossed to where his friend stood. With an
effort at his old-time whimsical banter he held out his hand.

"I just want to promise again, Andrew," he said, "that if there's
anything in this spook business of yours, I'll come back. And I'll
apologise. Good-bye and good luck."

McPherson wrung his hand, without speaking, and strode noisily out.

CHAPTER VII

THE HAND RELAXES

Peter Grimm walked slowly back into the room. He paused at his desk and
laid his hand on a sheaf of papers piled there. He looked about the big
sunlit apartment almost as if he were trying to stamp the image of each
of its familiar, pleasant features upon his memory.

Frederik, in the window seat, had been a silent onlooker to the strange
scene. His pallid, thin face was set in an aspect of grieved wonder. And
Peter Grimm, meeting his glance, sought to soften the young man's
sorrow.

"Brace up, Fritzy," he said gaily. "It's nothing to look so
down-in-the-mouth about. Doctors are apt to be wrong. They guess too
much. When the guess is right they win a reputation for wisdom. When
it's wrong--as it is nine times out of eight,--they say they knew it all
along but thought it wasn't wise to tell the patient and his friends.
Doctoring is a grand game,--for the man who has no sense of humour and
can play it with a straight face. Now let's forget old Andrew's
croakings. Go and get me some change for the circus, Fritzy. Enough for
Willem and me to buy all the red-ink lemonade and popcorn and peanuts
and candy we can eat. Get me a whole dollar, anyhow. And then, if
there's any left over after the show, I can----"

"Oh, sir!" cried Frederik protestingly. "Are you going after all, Uncle?
And with that child? Do you think it's wise to----?"

"Wise?" echoed Peter gleefully. "Of course it isn't wise. That's the
glory of a circus. It's almost the one place where people can go and
forget they were ever meant to be wise. And that's why I am going. That
and because I wouldn't disappoi