hat. But it's the part that's not fraud that's--May I ask
what medium you go to?"

"I know Mr. Vincent. And I've been to some public _seances_, too."

The old man looked at him with sudden interest, but said nothing.

"You think he's not honest?" said Laurie, with cool offensiveness.

"Oh, yes; he's perfectly honest," said the other deliberately. "I'll
trouble you for the sugar, Mr. Morton."

Laurie was determined not to begin the subject again. He felt that he
was being patronized and lectured, and did not like it. And once again
the suspicion crossed his mind that this was an arranged meeting. It
was so very neat--two days before the _seance_--the entry of
Morton--his own seat occupied. Yet he did not feel quite courageous
enough to challenge either of them. He ate his cheese deliberately and
waited, listening to the talk between the two on quite irrelevant
subjects, and presently determined on a bit of bravado.

"May I look at the _Daily Mirror_, Mr. Cathcart?" he asked.

"There is no doubt of his guilt," the old man said, as he handed the
paper across (the two were deep in a law case now). "I said so to
Markham a dozen times--" and so on.

But there was no more word of spiritualism. Laurie propped the paper
before him as he finished his cheese, and waited for coffee, and read
with unseeing eyes. He was resenting as hard as he could the
abruptness of the opening and closing of the subject, and the complete
disregard now shown to him. He drank his coffee, still leisurely, and
lit a cigarette; and still the two talked.

He stood up at last and reached down his hat and stick. The old man
looked up.

"You are going, Mr. Baxter...? Good day.... Well then; and as I was
waiting in court--"

Laurie passed out indignantly, and went down the stairs.

So that was Mr. Cathcart. Well, he was thankful he hadn't written to
him, after all. He was not his kind in the least.

II

The moment he passed out of the door the old man stopped his fluent
talking and waited, looking after the boy. Then he turned again to his
friend.

"I'm a blundering idiot," he said.

Mr. Morton sniffed.

"I've put him against me now--Lord knows how; but I've done it; and he
won't listen to me."

"Gad!" said Mr. Morton; "what funny people you all are! And you really
meant what you said?"

"Every word," said the old man cheerfully.... "Well; our little plot's
over."

"Why don't you ask him to come and see you?"

"First," said the