just drifted in over the divide from the desert, and met Miss
Lambert by accident, quite by accident. I dropped into Colorow to rest
and rinse the desert dust away, before returning East. Turn about is
fair play--what are you doing here?"

Britt struck his left breast with his thumb. "Same old story--busted
lung. Whenever you strike a suspicious character out here he's either
a 'one-lunger' or a 'remittance man.'"

"That's what makes your country worth while."

"I don't know about that, but you'll find a good many of us waiting.
When you fellows develop an anti-toxin for the consumption 'bug,'
we're all going back to God's country."

"We're hot on its trail," replied Serviss, jocularly.

"I know you are. I 'read after you,' as they say out here. In fact,
I've got a little 'farm,' and take a shy at breeding the beasts
myself. I'd like you to come in and give me a hint or two."

"With pleasure," Serviss heartily responded. "So you know Weissmann?"

"I used to. My father was an attache of the embassy at Berlin at one
time, and was a factor in getting old 'Hair and Goggles' to come
over; he was a conceited ass at that time, with more wool than brains,
the governor always said; but the governor wanted to do something for
the college."

Serviss studied the card. "Do I know your father?--is he still in
public life?"

"He is not." Britt's glance veered. "The governor, I'm sorry to say,
has a weakness for toddy, and I've retired him. He boards in White
Plains with Patsy Cline summers, and relapses winters."

Serviss changed the subject. "By-the-way, I want to ask you about this
man Clarke. What kind of a chap is he?"

Britt's answer was languid but adequate. "Three parts fakir and the
rest fanatic."

"I was afraid so--and the Lamberts, what of them?"

"Mrs. Lambert is a dear old ninny. Viola is a mighty bright girl
suffering from a well-developed case of hysteria and auto-hypnosis."

"What do you mean?" asked Serviss, sharply.

Britt checked himself. "I ought not to speak of it, I suppose, but, as
you are a stranger and can keep a professional secret, I will explain.
The mother is a spiritualist--has been for years--and, being on the
lookout for it, naturally discovered what she calls 'mediumship' in
Viola when a child. By carefully nursing the delusion in herself and
in her subject, she has been able to develop a rare 'up-rush of the
subliminal,' as Myers would say. When I came here to take Dr.
Randall's prac