e she _is_ committed to him. She wrote me
that she guessed she might as well; so long as she was a medium nobody
else would ever want her--or something like that. I feel guilty, I'll
admit, but you see how it was. The girl belongs to Julia, and since
Clarke came into the family our correspondence has been pretty well
confined to checks on my part and receipts on hers; but she's had
plenty of money, professor. There wasn't any need of her going into
anybody's house. She could have gone to the best hotels--"

"I don't see how you could have acted differently," said Serviss, with
intent to comfort. "But I am sure that Viola"--he spoke the name with
a little hesitation--"will eagerly go with you now. She begins to
doubt Clarke and to realize the fearful mental peril in which she
stands."

"That's what I don't understand, professor. This spiritualistic faith
is mighty pretty on the face of it, but it seems to unhinge people's
minds. I've known two or three to go 'locoed' with it; that's what
kept me from interfering. It isn't for miners to monkey with; but I
was in hopes that you would go into it. In fact, I was in hopes you'd
got sort o' interested in Viola, and she in you, and that you'd help
her someway."

"I am interested in her," replied Serviss, quickly, "and I want to
help her; but so long as she is where she is, and acknowledges
Clarke's claims, I can do nothing.--Here we are!"

As they drew up before the looming front of Pratt's house the miner
whistled, "Must be one of those Wall Street pirates we read about.
Nothing spirit-like about this castle, eh?"

"Nor about its lord."

"Why, this beats the Palace Hotel in Salina," he continued, his wonder
increasing, then he smiled. "What'll you bet I don't catch the
'guides' napping! You send up word you're here and leave me out o'
sight somewhere. I'd like to show Julia that her daddy don't know all
that blows over the roof."

Again Serviss doubted the husband's ability to dominate the forces in
opposition--so small and inoffensive did he seem and so ill-timed was
his joke.

The colored man, more funereally dignified than before, showed them
into the reception-room. "I'm afraid the ladies are out, sir, but if
you'll wait a moment I'll see."

"Be sure Mrs. Lambert gets my card," said Serviss, with a note of
warning in his voice. After the man left the room he turned to
Lambert. "Pratt has a habit of intercepting the cards of visitors, and
deciding who shall and