der its nose. Morton, those people
_believe_ what they talk. That girl is honest; she may be
self-deceived, but her sufferings are real. I can't believe that she
is wicked."

"Weissmann practically advised me to go into a study of these morbid
conditions."

"He did? Well, that from Rudolph Weissmann, after what I've _seen_
to-day, unsettles my reason. Maybe those people really have a message.
But, Morton, you really must do something for that girl. Her condition
is pitiful. One of the plans of that lunatic Clarke is to issue a
challenge to the world of science and to throw that girl into the
arena for you scientists to tear."

Morton started--stared. "No! Not a public challenge."

"Isn't it pitiful? Yes, he's going to speak on the second of next
month at the Spirit Temple, and he's going to publicly describe
Viola's powers, and, as her manager, challenge the world to prove her
false."

As Morton's mind flashed over the consequences of this challenge, his
face paled. "Good God, what an ordeal! But the girl, does she
consent?"

"She does and she doesn't. As a sweet, nice child she shrinks from it;
but as a 'psychic,' as they call her, she has no choice. These inner
forces seem able to take her by the throat any minute. They seized
her while I was there. Morton, she impersonated Aunt Dosia, and
delivered the most vindictive message--she scared me blue. You never
saw anything more dramatic--more awful."

"What was the message?"

"Something about a debt she wanted us to pay. She was furious about
it. I don't know of any debt; do you?"

"No. How did the message come?"

As Kate described it, the impersonation grew grotesque, lost much of
its power to horrify, and Morton, though he writhed at thought of the
girl's depravity, blamed the mother and Clarke for it. Kate made end
by saying: "It _was_ horrible to see, and it startled me. Then the
other messages, those written ones, came through her hand--"

"Automatic writing, they call it. That has no value--none whatever.
The whole programme was arranged for your benefit."

"No, it wasn't. The girl was carried out of herself. She is somehow
enslaved by Clarke, and she wants help. She wants to be investigated;
but she wants it done privately. She wants you to do it. She begs you
to do it."

"Begs me?" His eyebrows lifted.

"Yes, she passionately desires your advice. The poor thing made an
appeal that would have touched your heart. She wants to be cured of
this h