f it were all a
game of hide-and-seek.

Clarke, too, became exultant. "McLeod, now is your opportunity," he
called to the invisible guide. "Bring your band and put the monist
bigots to rout."

Morton moved about the girl with growing excitement, a subtle fire
mounting to his brain each time his fingers touched her smooth, round
wrists. Once she said, "I have never had a real test like this--this
is what I wanted you to do. If anything happens now it will be outside
of me, won't it?"

"We must be cruel in order to be kind," he answered, enigmatically.

At last Weissmann stood clear of her. "Now we are ready," he said,
beaming with satisfaction. "You see I lock this door and here is the
key." He held it up in confirmation. "I pocket the key. Now what?"

"Turn down the gas," replied Clarke. "Do not use electricity--the room
must be perfectly dark."

"Why _perfectly_ dark? I don't like that." Weissmann spoke with
manifest irritation. "We should be able to see something."

Clarke shrugged his shoulders. "You can do as you wish. The guides say
their manifestations are antagonized by light--and that darkness is
necessary for these special phenomena of the cone."

"Oh, we _have_ no cone!" exclaimed Mrs. Lambert.

"Cone? What cone?" asked Weissmann.

"We need some sort of megaphone to enlarge the spirit-voices."

"Make one of card-board," suggested Viola. "Any sort of horn will do."

Morton rose and took down a horn from the top of a bookcase. "Here is
the megaphone of my phonograph; will it do?"

Clarke examined it. "It's rather heavy, but I think they will use it.
Place it on the table. Put a pad and pencil there also," he added. "We
may get some writing."

"Anything else?"

"No--now we are quite ready," replied Clarke, in his exhibition voice.
"It is well to touch hands for a time--until the psychic sinks into
her trance."

"With your permission," said Morton to Viola.

A faint flush came into her face. "Certainly, professor," and a touch
of emphasis on his title had the effect of a slight, a very slight
rebuff.

Clarke turned the light down to a mere point of yellow fire, and in
the sudden gloom all were plunged into silence. "Now, whatever you
do, gentlemen, don't startle the psychic after she goes into sleep."

Morton, with his fingers resting lightly on Viola's soft hand,
experienced a keen, pang of sympathetic pain. "She is so charming!
What profanation to develop the seamy side of her nature! Wh