eadily get into communication
with my son at almost any time."

"Excuse me, Mr. Crane, if I am indiscreet, but have you never felt that
she might be--not entirely--honest?"

Benjamin Crane smiled benignly. "Don't hesitate to put your doubt into
words. I am quite ready to answer that question. I have no doubts of
any sort concerning the medium's honesty, sincerity and genuineness. I
have no doubt that the communications she obtains are really from my son
Peter. That his spirit speaks to me through her. This has been proved to
me in many ways, but a far greater proof is the conviction in my soul of
the reality of it all. My wife believes as implicitly as I do, and no
amount of scoffing from outsiders can in any way shake our faith."

"You have had material proofs?"

"Yes; here is a letter from my son himself. Here is a tobacco pouch that
I know was his. Here is his handkerchief."

With a calm pride Benjamin Crane took these articles from a table drawer
and showed them.

Douglas was deeply impressed, examined the articles and watched Crane as
he returned them to the drawer.

"You see," said Crane, "it is not only difficult but impossible to
account for those things except by supernatural explanation, so why
refuse the logical truth?"

"That's so. And, I understand now, why you are so happy in your beliefs,
for it all gives your life a continual and absorbing interest. You are
writing another book, are you not?"

"Yes; it contains the detailed account of my _seances_, and will, I
trust, prove an additional source of information and education on the
great subject of survival."

"And your daughter? Does she, too, subscribe to all your theories?"

"Almost entirely. She is not so absorbed in the subject as Mrs. Crane
and myself, but she has become persuaded of many truths."

"And now, my time is nearly up, may I ask you a word regarding the Blair
case. Do you think McClellan Thorpe is the guilty man?"

"No! a thousand times no! I am trying by every means in my power to
prove that he isn't. I hope to succeed, too. But we mustn't go into that
subject, as I have an important appointment to keep. Come to see me
again, Mr. Douglas, if you like. I'm not unaccustomed to such calls, and
I'll be glad to see you again. By appointment, though, for I'm a busy
man."

Tom Douglas went back, over to Brooklyn, and, going to a hotel, asked
for one John Harrison.

In a short time Peter Boots was eagerly listening to the report