le detail out."

"I know," said Clayton. "I believe I could tell you which."

"Well?"

"This," said Clayton, and did a queer little twist and writhing and
thrust of the hands.

"Yes."

"That, you know, was what HE couldn't get right," said Clayton. "But how
do YOU--?"

"Most of this business, and particularly how you invented it, I don't
understand at all," said Sanderson, "but just that phase--I do." He
reflected. "These happen to be a series of gestures--connected with a
certain branch of esoteric Masonry. Probably you know. Or else--HOW?" He
reflected still further. "I do not see I can do any harm in telling you
just the proper twist. After all, if you know, you know; if you don't,
you don't."

"I know nothing," said Clayton, "except what the poor devil let out last
night."

"Well, anyhow," said Sanderson, and placed his churchwarden very
carefully upon the shelf over the fireplace. Then very rapidly he
gesticulated with his hands.

"So?" said Clayton, repeating.

"So," said Sanderson, and took his pipe in hand again.

"Ah, NOW," said Clayton, "I can do the whole thing--right."

He stood up before the waning fire and smiled at us all. But I think
there was just a little hesitation in his smile. "If I begin--" he said.

"I wouldn't begin," said Wish.

"It's all right!" said Evans. "Matter is indestructible. You don't think
any jiggery-pokery of this sort is going to snatch Clayton into the
world of shades. Not it! You may try, Clayton, so far as I'm concerned,
until your arms drop off at the wrists."

"I don't believe that," said Wish, and stood up and put his arm on
Clayton's shoulder. "You've made me half believe in that story somehow,
and I don't want to see the thing done!"

"Goodness!" said I, "here's Wish frightened!"

"I am," said Wish, with real or admirably feigned intensity. "I believe
that if he goes through these motions right he'll GO."

"He'll not do anything of the sort," I cried. "There's only one way out
of this world for men, and Clayton is thirty years from that. Besides...
And such a ghost! Do you think--?"

Wish interrupted me by moving. He walked out from among our chairs and
stopped beside the tole and stood there. "Clayton," he said, "you're a
fool."

Clayton, with a humorous light in his eyes, smiled back at him. "Wish,"
he said, "is right and all you others are wrong. I shall go. I shall get
to the end of these passes, and as the last swish whistles through the
air