d
Miss Jeremy, and brought into view a piece of sculptor's clay he had
placed there. The handle of the bell was now jammed into the mass. He
had only time to show it to us when the medium began to speak.

I find, on re-reading the earlier part of this record, that I have
omitted mention of Miss Jeremy's "control." So suddenly had we jumped,
that first evening, into the trail that led us to the Wells case, that
beyond the rather raucous "good-evening," and possibly the extraneous
matter referring to Mother Goose and so on, we had been saved the usual
preliminary patter of the average control.

On this night, however, we were obliged to sit impatiently through
a rambling discourse, given in a half-belligerent manner, on the
deterioration of moral standards. Re-reading Clara's notes, I find that
the subject matter is without originality and the diction inferior. But
the lecture ceased abruptly, and the time for questions had come.

"Now," Herbert said, "we want you to go back to the house where you saw
the dead man on the floor. You know his name, don't you?"

There was a pause. "Yes. Of course I do. A. L. Wells."

Arthur had been known to most of us by his Christian name, but the
initials were correct.

"How do you know it is an L.?"

"On letters," was the laconic answer. Then: "Letters, letters, who has
the letters?"

"Do you know whose cane this is?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell us?"

Up to that time the replies had come easily and quickly. But beginning
with the cane question, the medium was in difficulties. She moved
uneasily, and spoke irritably. The replies were slow and grudging.
Foreign subjects were introduced, as now.

"Horace's wife certainly bullies him," said the voice. "He's afraid of
her. And the fire-tongs--the fire-tongs--the fire-tongs!"

"Whose cane is this?" Herbert repeated.

"Mr. Ellingham's."

This created a profound sensation.

"How do you know that?"

"He carried it at the seashore. He wrote in the sand with it."

"What did he write?"

"Ten o'clock."

"He wrote 'ten o'clock' in the sand, and the waves came and washed it
away?"

"Yes."

"Horace," said my wife, leaning forward, "why not ask her about that
stock of mine? If it is going down, I ought to sell, oughtn't I?"

Herbert eyed her with some exasperation.

"We are here to make a serious investigation," he said. "If the members
of the club will keep their attention on what we are doing, we may get
somewhere. Now," t