s case psychometry could be
depended upon, and the scrap of paper his hand has touched is sufficient
to give to another mind--a sensitive and sympathetic mind--clear mental
pictures of what is going on. I think I have a very sound general idea
of his problem."

"So there may be excitement, after all?"

John Silence waited a moment before he replied.

"Something very serious is amiss there," he said gravely, at length.
"Some one--not himself, I gather,--has been meddling with a rather
dangerous kind of gunpowder. So--yes, there may be excitement, as you
put it."

"And my duties?" I asked, with a decidedly growing interest. "Remember,
I am your 'assistant.'"

"Behave like an intelligent confidential secretary. Observe everything,
without seeming to. Say nothing--nothing that means anything. Be present
at all interviews. I may ask a good deal of you, for if my impressions
are correct this is--"

He broke off suddenly.

"But I won't tell you my impressions yet," he resumed after a moment's
thought. "Just watch and listen as the case proceeds. Form your own
impressions and cultivate your intuitions. We come as ordinary visitors,
of course," he added, a twinkle showing for an instant in his eye;
"hence, the guns."

Though disappointed not to hear more, I recognised the wisdom of his
words and knew how valueless my impressions would be once the powerful
suggestion of having heard his own lay behind them. I likewise reflected
that intuition joined to a sense of humour was of more use to a man than
double the quantity of mere "brains," as such.

Before putting the letter away, however, he handed it back, telling me
to place it against my forehead for a few moments and then describe any
pictures that came spontaneously into my mind.

"Don't deliberately look for anything. Just imagine you see the inside
of the eyelid, and wait for pictures that rise against its dark screen."

I followed his instructions, making my mind as nearly blank as possible.
But no visions came. I saw nothing but the lines of light that pass to
and fro like the changes of a kaleidoscope across the blackness. A
momentary sensation of warmth came and went curiously.

"You see--what?" he asked presently.

"Nothing," I was obliged to admit disappointedly; "nothing but the usual
flashes of light one always sees. Only, perhaps, they are more vivid
than usual."

He said nothing by way of comment or reply.

"And they group themselves now and the