er took your overcoat
by mistake probably left one. The difficulty is, of course, that he
probably discovered his error and went back again last night. Confound
it, man, if you had thought of that at the time, we would have something
to go on today."

"If I had thought of a number of things I'd have stayed out of the place
altogether," I retorted tartly. "I wish you could help me about the
fire-tongs, Sperry. I don't seem able to think of any explanation that
Mrs. Johnson would be willing to accept."

"Tell her the truth."

"I don't think you understand," I explained. "She simply wouldn't
believe it. And if she did I should have to agree to drop the
investigation. As a matter of fact, Sperry, I had resorted to subterfuge
in order to remain out last evening, and I am bitterly regretting my
mendacity."

But Sperry has, I am afraid, rather loose ideas.

"Every man," he said, "would rather tell the truth, but every woman
makes it necessary to lie to her. Forget the fire-tongs, Horace, and
forget Mrs. Johnson to-night. He may not have dared to go back in
day-light for his overcoat."

"Very well," I agreed.

But it was not very well, and I knew it. I felt that, in a way, my whole
domestic happiness was at stake. My wife is a difficult person to argue
with, and as tenacious of an opinion once formed as are all very amiable
people. However, unfortunately for our investigation, but luckily for
me, under the circumstances, Sperry was called to another city that
afternoon and did not return for two days.

It was, it will be recalled, on the Thursday night following the second
sitting that I had gone alone to the Wells house, and my interview
with Sperry was on Friday. It was on Friday afternoon that I received a
telephone message from Mrs. Dane.

It was actually from her secretary, the Clara who had recorded the
seances. It was Mrs. Dane's misfortune to be almost entirely dependent
on the various young women who, one after the other, were employed to
look after her. I say "one after the other" advisedly. It had long been
a matter of good-natured jesting in the Neighborhood Club that Mrs. Dane
conducted a matrimonial bureau, as one young woman after another was
married from her house. It was her kindly habit, on such occasions,
to give the bride a wedding, and only a month before it had been my
privilege to give away in holy wedlock Miss Clara's predecessor.

"Mrs. Dane would like you to stop in and have a cup of tea w