ses go) by those who are--who have--er--who have--passed
over."

He looked apologetically about as if to assure the possibly-present
Peter Grimm that he had absolutely no intent of using so non-technical a
word as "dead."

Peter Grimm acknowledged the compliment with a laugh.

"Oh, say it, Andrew! Say it!" he adjured. "There _is_ no 'death' and
there are no 'dead,' as this world understands the words. So one term is
as good as another. 'Dead' or 'passed over.' It's all one. Neither
phrase means anything. Don't be afraid of offending me."

"And Willem is like that?" asked Kathrien.

"I am sure of it," answered McPherson. "Now, Willem----"

"I think I'd better put the boy to bed!" hastily interposed Mrs.
Batholommey, coming between the doctor and his proposed "subject."

"Please!" rapped McPherson. "I propose to find out what ails Willem.
That is what I'm here for. And I'll thank you not to interfere, Mrs.
Batholommey. I never break in on your good husband's pulpit platitudes,
and I'll ask you to show the same courtesy toward _me_. Now then,
Willem----"

"Kathrien," expostulated Mrs. Batholommey, "you surely aren't going to
permit----?"

A peremptory gesture from McPherson momentarily checked the pendulum of
her tongue. Kathrien, too, was very evidently on the doctor's side.

"Willem," said McPherson quietly, "you said just now that Mr. Grimm was
in this room. What made you think so?"

"The things he said to me," returned Willem, readily enough.

His simple reply had a galvanic effect on his three hearers.

"_Said_ to you?" bleated Mrs. Batholommey. "_Said_? Did you say 'said'?"

"Why, Willem!" gasped Kathrien.

"_Old_ Mr. Grimm?" insisted Dr. McPherson. "Willem, you're certain you
mean _old_ Mr. Grimm? Not Frederik?"

"Why, yes," assented Willem with calm assurance. "Old Mynheer Grimm."

And now, even Mrs. Batholommey's awed curiosity dulled her chronic
conscience-pains into momentary rest. And, with Kathrien, she sat
silent, eager, awaiting the doctor's next move.

"And," continued McPherson, "what did Mr. Grimm say to you? Think
carefully before you answer."

"Oh," replied Willem, in the glorious vagueness of childhood, "lots and
lots of things."

"Oh, really?" mocked Mrs. Batholommey, the disappointing answer freeing
her from the grip of awe.

Again McPherson raised a warning hand that balked further comment from
her. And he returned to the examination.

"Willem," said he, "how did Mr. Grim