'. I'll leave it to
'Phelia Beebe. You know I don't know what I'm sayin' when I'm in
the trance state, don't you, 'Phelia? Anyhow, all I said was.... Oh,
'Phelia," wildly, "why don't you help me out?... And--and I've asked no
less'n four mortal times for that drink of water. I--I--Oh, oh--"

She became hysterical. The circle ceased to be a circle and became a
series of agitated groups, all talking at once. Mr. Bloomer seized the
opportunity to turn up the wick of another lamp. Lulie, clinging to her
father's arm, led him toward a chair in a secluded corner.

"Sit down, father," she urged. "Sit down, and rest. Please do!"

The old light keeper's fiery rage seemed to be abating. He passed his
hand across his forehead several times and his expression changed. He
looked like one awakening from a bad dream.

"I--I cal'late I will set down for a minute or so, Lulie," he faltered.
"I do feel sort of tired, somehow or 'nother. I don't want to talk any
more, Mr. Bangs," he added, wearily. "I--I'll have to think it all out.
Lulie, I cal'late they'd better go home. Tell 'em all to go. I'm tired."

Martha Phipps passed from group to group whispering.

"I guess we'd better go," she suggested. "He's pretty well worn out, I'm
afraid. Everybody's things are there in the dinin' room or in the side
entry. We'd better go right away, it seems to me."

Galusha had gotten his "things" already, his coat was over his arm.
The others followed his example. A few minutes more and the last of
the "ghost seiners" had left the house and were climbing into the
automobiles in the yard. Marietta Hoag's voice was the last distinctly
audible.

"I can't help it," she wailed. "It wasn't my fault anyway. And--and,
besides, that Bangs man hadn't any right to say 'twas him I meant.... I
mean the control meant. It wasn't him at all.... I mean I don't believe
'twas. Oh, dear! I WISH you'd stop askin' questions, Abe Hardin'. CAN'T
you stop?"

Galusha and Primmie set out for the Phipps' homestead ahead of its
owner, but she caught up with them at the gate.

"He's goin' right up to bed," she said. "Zach will look out for the
light to-night."

"And--" asked Galusha, with significant emphasis.

Martha did not reply. She waited until they were in the sitting room and
alone, Primmie having been sentenced to go to her own room and to bed.
Miss Cash had no desire for bed; her dearest wish was to remain with her
mistress and their lodger and unload her burd