orpe.

The word did not go smoothly,--the board swung round in large loops, but
paused positively at each letter, and then started slowly to the next.

"You didn't push, Kit?" Carly asked, but more from force of habit than
any doubt of him.

"Of course not. Nobody could push with you watching, nor was there any
reason why I should. Did you?"

"Of course not. Don't let's ask each other that. We're both honest. But
you know, Kit, Mr. Crane had a communication from Peter and he said
Thorpe did it. But Mr. Crane thinks maybe Peter doesn't know."

"Let's try to get Blair's spirit."

They tried,--if receptive waiting can be called trying,--and at last
they succeeded in receiving the information that Gilbert Blair's spirit
was present.

"Will you tell us who killed you?" Carly asked at once, fearing lest he
go away.

Slowly the pointer moved away from the letter T. But after a series of
swirls it stopped definitely at M.

"Go on," said Carly, in a whisper.

A long swing of aimless motions and then a stop at A.

The next stop was at C, and then the board would move no more.

Carly sighed, and took her hands off.

"Well, there's the message, Kit. You know Gilbert always called him
Mac,--now what do you think of Ouija?"

"I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was in
both our minds, and that we subconsciously----"

"Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to be
said. It's easy enough to say that,--but how can the dead send messages
if the human beings always say,--oh, subconscious pushing!"

"But, are you so anxious to believe in Thorpe's guilt?"

"Not that,--but I want to know. Julie's devoted to him, and if he's a--a
murderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,--we must find it
out, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion."

"We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?"

"Yes, in so far as I can help. You say, everybody says, that I have
occult powers. If so, I must use them to help,--if they really do help.
But how can I be sure?"

"I don't know. But I think, perhaps, you'd better leave the whole
occult business alone. It's uncanny if it's real, and it's foolishness
if it's faked."

"I think Mr. Crane is going to get a special detective," Carly said,
"but, oh, my gracious, I forgot I promised not to tell that. So don't
tell anybody else. I don't suppose they'd mind you knowing."

"Who's the man?"

"I think his name is Wise,--good na