three cheers." These I have cut,
for the sake of clearness.

For some five minutes, perhaps, Miss Jeremy breathed stertorously, and
it was during that interval that we introduced Clara and took up our
positions. Sperry sat near the medium now, having changed places with
Herbert, and the rest of us were as we had been, save that we no longer
touched hands. Suddenly Miss Jeremy began to breathe more quietly, and
to move about in her chair. Then she sat upright.

"Good evening, friends," she said. "I am glad to see you all again."

I caught Herbert's eye, and he grinned.

"Good evening, little Bright Eyes," he said. "How's everything in the
happy hunting ground tonight?"

"Dark and cold," she said. "Dark and cold. And the knee hurts. It's very
bad. If the key is on the nail--Arnica will take the pain out."

She lapsed into silence. In transcribing Clara's record I shall make no
reference to these pauses, which were frequent, and occasionally filled
in with extraneous matter. For instance, once there was what amounted
to five minutes of Mother Goose jingles. Our method was simply one
of question, by one of ourselves, and of answer by Miss Jeremy. These
replies were usually in a querulous tone, and were often apparently
unwilling. Also occasionally there was a bit of vernacular, as in the
next reply. Herbert, who was still flippantly amused, said:

"Don't bother about your knee. Give us some local stuff. Gossip. If you
can."

"Sure I can, and it will make your hair curl." Then suddenly there was a
sort of dramatic pause and then an outburst.

"He's dead."

"Who is dead?" Sperry asked, with his voice drawn a trifle thin.

"A bullet just above the ear. That's a bad place. Thank goodness there's
not much blood. Cold water will take it out of the carpet. Not hot. Not
hot. Do you want to set the stain?"

"Look here," Sperry said, looking around the table. "I don't like this.
It's darned grisly."

"Oh, fudge!" Herbert put in irreverently. "Let her rave, or it, or
whatever it is. Do you mean that a man is dead?"--to the medium.

"Yes. She has the revolver. She needn't cry so. He was cruel to her. He
was a beast. Sullen."

"Can you see the woman?" I asked.

"If it's sent out to be cleaned it will cause trouble. Hang it in the
closet."

Herbert muttered something about the movies having nothing on us, and
was angrily hushed. There was something quite outside of Miss Jeremy's
words that had impressed itself on a