pturously.

"_Das is lecker!_" he murmured, biting into another of the cakes.

He picked a large and obese raisin from a third, swallowed it, then
reached for the sugar bowl. Two lumps of sugar went the way of the
raisin. After which a handful of sugar lumps were stuffed into his
night-clothes' pocket for future delectation in bed. The cream pitcher
next met the forager's eye. Willem looked at it longingly.

"Take it," said Peter Grimm. "It's good, thick, sweet cream. Drink it
down. That's right. It won't hurt you. Nothing can hurt you now."

"I haven't had such a good time," Willem confided to his inner
consciousness, "since Mynheer Grimm died. Why"--he broke off, his roving
gaze concentrating on the hat-rack--"there's his hat! It's--he's
_here_! Oh, Mynheer Grimm!" he wailed aloud in utter longing. "Take me
back with you!"

"You know I'm here?" asked the Dead Man joyously. "Can you see me?"

"No, sir," came the answer without a breath of hesitation or any hint of
misunderstanding.

"Here," ordered Peter Grimm, his face alight, "take my hand. Have you
got it?"

He placed his right hand around the boy's groping palm.

"No, sir," replied Willem.

"Now," urged Peter Grimm, enclosing the boy's hand in both his own, "do
you feel it?"

"I--I feel _something_," returned Willem, in doubt. "Yes, sir. But where
is your hand? There's--there's nothing there!"

"But you _hear_ me?" asked the Dead Man anxiously.

"I--I can't _really_ hear you. It's some kind of a dream, I suppose.
Isn't it? Oh, Mynheer Grimm!" he pleaded brokenly. "Take me back with
you!"

"You're not quite ready to go with me, yet," said the Dead Man in gentle
denial. "Not till you can _see_ me."

The boy reached out for another cake. Still looking straight ahead where
he imagined his unseen protector might be, he asked:

"What did you come back for, Mynheer Grimm? Wasn't it nice where you
went?"

"Oh, yes! Beyond all belief, dear lad. But I had to come back. Willem,
do you think you could take a message for me? Listen very carefully now.
Because I want you to remember every word of it. I want you to try to
understand. You are to tell Miss Kathrien----"

"It's too bad you died before you could go to the circus, Mynheer
Grimm," broke in Willem, munching the cake.

"Willem," persisted the Dead Man, patiently starting his plan of
campaign all over again from another angle, "there must be a great many
things you remember,--things that happened