, you know, merely to get our hands in," I warned.

"Must we keep still?"

"Oh no! You may talk, if you do so quietly. Please touch fingers, so as
to make a complete circuit. I don't think it really necessary, but it
sometimes helps to produce the proper mental state; singing softly also
tends to harmonize the 'conditions,' as the professionals say. Don't
argue and don't be too eager. Lean back and rest. Take a passive
attitude toward the whole problem. I find the whole process very
restful. Harris, will you turn down the lights before--"

"There!" said Miller, "the hocus-pocus begins. Why not perform in the
light?"

"Subdued light will bring the proper negative and inward condition
sooner," I replied, taking a malicious delight in his disgust. "Now will
some one sing 'Annie Laurie,' or any other sweet, low song? Let us get
into genial, receptive mood. Miller, you and your fellow-doubters please
retire to the far end of the room."

In a voice that trembled a little, Mrs. Harris started the dear old
melody, and all joined in, producing a soft and lulling chorus.

At the end of the song I asked, matter-of-factly: "Are the conditions
right? Are we sitting right?"

Mrs. Quigg sharply queried, "Whom are you talking to?"

"The 'guides,'" I answered.

"The 'guides'!" she exclaimed. "Do you believe in the guides?"

"I believe in the _belief_ of the guides," was my cryptic rejoinder.
"Sing again, please."

I really had no faith in the conditions of the circle, but for the joke
of it I kept my sitters in place for nearly an hour by dint of
pretending to hear creakings and to feel throbbings, until at last
little Miss Brush became very deeply concerned. "I feel them, too," she
declared. "Did some one blow on my hands? I felt a cold wave."

Harris got up abruptly. "I'll join the doubters," said he. "This
tomfoolery is too idiotic for me."

Cameron followed, and Mrs. Quigg also rose. "I'll go with you," she
said, decidedly. I was willing to quit, too, but Mrs. Harris and Miss
Brush pleaded with me to continue.

"Close up the circle, then. Probably Harris was the hoodoo. Things will
happen now," I said, briskly, though still without any faith in the
experiment.

Hardly had Harris left the table when a shudder passed over Mrs. Harris,
her head lifted, and her eyes closed.

"What's the matter, Dolly?" whispered Mrs. Cameron. "Do you feel faint?"

"Don't be alarmed! Mrs. Harris is only passing into a sleep. Not a wo