isturbances, so that on rousing
one night to find me closing a window against a storm she thought I was
a spectre, and to this day insists that I only entered her room when I
heard her scream. For this reason I have made no record of her various
experiences, as I felt that her nervous condition precluded accurate
observation.

As in all records of psychic phenomena, the human element must be
considered, and I do not attempt either to analyze these various
phenomena or to explain them. Herbert, for instance, has been known to
walk in his sleep. But I respectfully offer, as opposed to this, that
my watch has never been known to walk at all, and that Mrs. Johnson's
bracelet could hardly be accused of an attack of nerves.

IX

The following day was Monday. When I came downstairs I found a neat
bundle lying in the hall, and addressed to me. My wife had followed me
down, and we surveyed it together.

I had a curious feeling about the parcel, and was for cutting the cord
with my knife. But my wife is careful about string. She has always
fancied that the time would come when we would need some badly, and it
would not be around. I have an entire drawer of my chiffonier, which I
really need for other uses, filled with bundles of twine, pink, white
and brown. I recall, on one occasion, packing a suit-case in the dusk,
in great hasty, and emptying the drawer containing my undergarments into
it, to discover, when I opened it on the train for my pajamas, nothing
but rolls of cord and several packages of Christmas ribbons. So I was
obliged to wait until she had untied the knots by means of a hairpin.

It was my overcoat! My overcoat, apparently uninjured, but with the
collection of keys I had made missing.

The address was printed, not written, in a large, strong hand, with
a stub pen. I did not, at the time, notice the loss of certain papers
which had been in the breast pocket. I am rather absent-minded, and it
was not until the night after the third sitting that they were recalled
to my mind.

At something after eleven Herbert Robinson called me up at my office.
He was at Sperry's house, Sperry having been his physician during his
recent illness.

"I say, Horace, this is Herbert."

"Yes. How are you?"

"Doing well, Sperry says. I'm at his place now. I'm speaking for him.
He's got a patient."

"Yes."

"You were here last night, he says." Herbert has a circumlocutory manner
over the phone which irritates me. H