ia, you surely don't believe in Ouija boards."

"I don't know, John--they are awfully thrilling."

She had seated herself on the arm of my chair and was looking dreamily
across the room. I started and turned around. There was nothing there,
and I sank back with relief. So far so good.

"Oh, certainly, they're thrilling all right. That's just it, they're a
darn sight too thrilling. They're positively devilish. Now, Lavinia, you
have plenty of sense, and I want you to get rid of that thing just as
soon as you can. Take it back and get something else."

My wife crossed her knees and stared at me through narrowed lids.

"John Hallock," she said distinctly. "I don't propose to do anything of
the kind. In the first place they won't exchange things bought at a
bargain sale, and in the second, if you aren't interested in the other
world _I_ am. So there!" and she slid down and walked from the room
before I could think of a single thing to say. She walked very huffily.

Well, it was like that all the rest of the evening. Just as soon as I
mentioned Ouija boards I felt things begin to cloud up; so I decided to
let it go for the present, in the hope that she might be more reasonable
later.

After supper I had another try at the writing, but as my mind continued
a perfect blank I gave it up and went off to bed.

The next day was Saturday, and it being near the end of the month and a
particularly busy day, I left home early without seeing Lavinia.
Understand, I haven't quite reached the point where I can give my whole
time to writing, and being bookkeeper for a lumber company does help
with the grocery bills and pay for Lavinia's fancy shopping. Friday had
been a half holiday, and of course when I got back the work was piled up
pretty high; so high, in fact, that ghosts and stories and everything
else vanished in a perfect tangle of figures.

When I got off the street car that evening my mind was still churning.
I remember now that I noticed, even from the corner, how brightly the
house was illuminated, but at the time that didn't mean anything to me.
I recall as I went up the steps and opened the door I murmured:

"Nine times nine is eighty-one!"

And then Gladolia met me in the hall.

"Misto Hallock, de Missus sho t'inks you's lost! She say she done 'phone
you dis mawnin' to be home early, but fo' de lawd's sake not to stop to
argify now, but get ready fo' de company an' come on down."

Some memory of a message given