amp earth from its prongs, he repeated,
"All that it means for humanity?"

"Why not"--urging the thing a little glibly--"why not? You can do your
part now; you will help toward the solving of age-long mysteries. You
must be steward of--of"--Mrs. Strang hesitated, then continued,
lamely--"of your special insight. Why--already you have begun--Think of
the weed chemistry." Had he noticed it? There was in her voice a curious
note, almost of pleading, though she tried to speak with authority.

John Berber, once called "Gargoyle," listened. The youth stood there,
his foot resting upon the fork but not driving it into the ground. He
caught her note of anxiety, laughing in light, spontaneous reassurance,
taking her point with ease.

"Oh--I know," shrugging his shoulders in true collegian's style. "I
understand my lesson." Berber met her look. "I had the gift of mental
_unrestraint_, if you choose to call it that," he summed up, "and was of
no use in the world. Now I have the curse of _mental restraint_ and can
participate with others in their curse." Suddenly aware of her helpless
dismay and pain, the boy laughed again, but this time with a slight
nervousness she had never before seen in him. "Why, we are not in
earnest, dear Mrs. Strang." It was with coaxing, manly respect that he
reminded her of that. "We are only joking, playing with an idea.... I
think you can trust me," added John Berber, quietly.

The surprised woman felt that she could indeed "trust" him; that Berber
was absolutely captain of the self which education had given him; but
that from time to time he had been conscious of another self he had been
unwise enough to let her see. She silently struggled with her own
nature, knowing that were she judicious she would take that moment to
rise and leave him. Such action, however, seemed impossible now. Here
was, perhaps, revelation, discovery! All the convictions of her lonely,
brooding life were on her. Temptation again seized her. With her longing
to have some clue to that spirit world she and her husband had believed
in, it seemed forewritten, imperative, inevitable, that she remain.
Trying to control herself, she fumbled desperately on:

"When you were little, Mr. Strang and I used to notice--we grew to
think--that because you had been shut away from contact with other
minds, because you had never been told _what_ to see, as children are
told, 'Look at the fire,' 'See the water,' and so forever regard those
th