you know."

Mrs. Miller then said: "There is a box of candy on a shelf back of Mrs.
Smiley. It is quite out of her reach. Can you bring that to me,
'Wilbur'?"

_Tap, tap, tap!_ was the decided answer, and almost immediately the box
was placed on the top of the table and shoved along toward Mrs. Miller.

"That's a good demonstration," I remarked, and 'Wilbur' drummed a sharp
tattoo of satisfaction.

At my request he then wrote his name on a pad while Miller waited and
listened, his mind too busy with surmise to permit of speech. (He told
me afterward that he was perfectly sure the psychic had wrenched free of
her tacks and he was wondering how she would contrive to put herself
back again.)

Finally I asked: "Are you still with us, 'Wilbur'?"

The force tapped smartly on the tin.

"Now, just to show you that the psychic is not doing this, can't you
hold up a book between me and the light? I want to see your hand."

Instantly, and to my profound amazement, a book rose in the air, and I
could see _two hands_ in silhouette plainly and vigorously thumbing the
volume, which was held about three feet above the table, and to the
psychic's left.

"Miller," I said, excitedly, "I see hands!"

"I do not," he answered; "but I hear a rustling."

Swift on the trail, I called out: "Now, show me your empty hand,
'Wilbur.' I want to see how big it is." A moment later I exclaimed, in
profound excitement: "I can see a _large_ hand against the window, and,
strangest part of all, the spread fingers are pointing _toward_ Mrs.
Smiley, the wrist is nearest you and at least six feet from the psychic.
It is a man's hand. You are not doing this, Miller?"

"Certainly not!" he answered, curtly.

"This is astonishing! It certainly is a hand and much larger than that
of a woman, and _the wrist is toward you_. It is still at least four
feet from the psychic. Oh, for a flash-light camera now! I was
perfectly certain that this is not the psychic's hand, and yet to admit
that it is not is to grant the whole theory of materialization."

At last the shadow disappeared. The book fell. With a ringing scrape the
cone rose in the air and the voice of "Wilbur" came from it
life-like--almost full-toned, and with a note of humorous exultation
running through it. "_I told you I'd astonish you!_" he said. "_Don't
get in a hurry; there's more coming._"

For nearly two hours thereafter this "spirit voice" kept us all
interested and busy. He was very