ather, blow him out in no time."

"I thought we had persuaded ourselves," I said, sadly, "that no one
could have any real power of dematerialization."

"So we had," said she, "but that sort of persuasion does not always
last."

The result was that we did nothing but hope for the best. But we could
not blame ourselves, for, really, there was nothing else to do. I had
given up all idea of endeavoring to put Mr. Corbridge and his associates
under legal restriction, because if they had power to do the evil we
feared, they could do it in one place as well as another, and no court
could determine when, how, or by whom Mr. Kilbright had been
dematerialized.

The day before the wedding-day the German doctor arrived in our town;
and, having heard this, I went immediately to the hotel where Mr.
Corbridge and his party were staying. The spiritualistic manager was not
glad to see me, and frankly said so.

"I had hoped," he remarked, "that you had concluded to keep out of this
thing. It is no concern of yours; you can be of no possible good to
anybody; and the wisest thing you can do will be to drop it."

I assured him that I had no intention of dropping it, and that I should
do everything in my power to protect Mr. Kilbright.

"Then, again," continued Corbridge, "there is really no need of giving
yourself all this worry. Dr. Hildstein may succeed, and he may not. We
have failed, and so may he. He has seen the subject, and has come to a
very philosophical and sensible conclusion in regard to him. He will not
believe, merely on our assertion, that the man is a materialized spirit.
He will proceed with his experiments, and if they fail he will consider
that the man is a man, and was never anything else. If they succeed,
then he will be quite satisfied that he had a perfect right to
dematerialize what we had materialized."

"Then you really believe," I said, "that there is a chance that he may
fail?"

"Of course there is," said Corbridge. "I do not know his methods, and
there may be nothing in them."

I had no doubt that this change of tone in Corbridge was intended to
produce in me a feeling of security, that they might thus rid themselves
of me. But, though I saw through his purpose, the man's words encouraged
me. Of course there must be a good deal of doubt about the German's
powers; and, after all, there might be no cause whatever for our
anxieties.

"Now, sir," said Corbridge, as I left, "if I were you I would troubl