"Only by reason of lack of occasions for belief," he returned. "I am,
however, open-minded and fair-minded enough to be willingly convinced.
You may or may not know, this son of Mr. Crane's was one of my closest
friends, and----"

"Don't advance information, please," she remonstrated, "lest I be
thought to make use of it. I will ask you both to be quiet, whilst I
compose myself."

"Hush up, Shelby," growled Crane, and Shelby did.

The medium closed her eyes and leaned back in her armchair.

She did not seem to be asleep, but she breathed heavily and a trifle
irregularly, and now and then gave a slight convulsive shudder.

At last she spoke, very slowly, and in a voice decidedly different from
her own. Shelby couldn't quite make up his mind whether it seemed to him
like Peter's voice or not.

The voice said, "I am here, father," and, after a moment's pause,
repeated the words.

"Yes, yes," breathed Benjamin Crane, enthralled, as always, by the
sound; "talk to me, Peter, tell me things."

"I can't talk much this time, father, it is hard to get through. There
is some obstacle."

These words did not follow each other in natural succession, but came
haltingly, with waits between. Madame Parlato seemed unconscious of the
delays, and merely acted as a mouthpiece for the revelations.

"What sort of an obstacle?" asked Crane.

"An unbeliever is near," the voice hesitatingly asserted.

"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Shelby, "tell him who I am!"

"It's only Shelby," Mr. Crane said, "Kit Shelby. He's not really an
unbeliever, only inexperienced."

"May I speak to him?" asked Shelby, as if permission were necessary.

"Go ahead," consented Mr. Crane.

"It's old Kit, Peter--Kit Shelby, who went on the trip with you."

"Oh, Kit--all right--all right, old fellow--can't say much
to-night--something wrong----"

"Well, but Peter," Shelby begged, "give me some sort of a sign--a test,
you know. I can't help wanting that."

"All right," very slowly, "what test."

"Let me see--well, tell me whose picture you carried in your watch
case."

"Why, it was--Caroline--Caroline Harper."

Shelby looked dazed. True, they had never called Carly Caroline, but the
Harper was undeniable, and the test quite near enough to the truth.

The medium sat still, save for frequent slight shivers. Suddenly she
opened her eyes:

"Who is talking?" she said.

"I am," Shelby told her. "Please let me say a few more things."

Madame Parlato's eye