XIII
PROFESSOR CLICK, MIND READER
Some months previously Alex and Jack had arranged to take their twoweeks' vacation at the same time, and to spend one week at Haddowville,Jack's home, and the other at Bixton.
The long looked-for Monday had at length arrived, early that morning Jackhad joined Alex at Exeter, and the two boys, aboard the Eastern Mail,were now well on their way to Haddowville.
For some minutes Alex's part in the animated conversation of the twochums had waned. Presently, plucking Jack's sleeve, he quietly directedhis companion's attention to the double seat across the aisle of the car.
"Jack, watch that soldier's fingers," he said in a low voice. "What's thematter with him?"
The soldier in question, in the uniform of an infantry regular, satfacing them, beside a stout elderly gentleman. Opposite the first soldierwas a second, in a similar uniform; and sharing the seat with the latter,and facing the old gentleman, was a decidedly pretty young girl.
It was the first soldier's left hand, however, which attracted the boys'particular attention. Resting in his lap, and partly concealed by anewspaper, the hand was so doubled that the thumb stood upright. And thislatter member was bobbing and wagging up and down, now slowly, nowquickly, in most curious fashion.
"Perhaps it's St. Vitus' dance," ventured Jack.
"But that affects the whole body, or at least the whole limb, doesn'tit?"
Jack, who sat next the window, leaned slightly forward. "The othersoldier is watching him," he said. "Maybe the fellow with the wigglingthumb is out of his mind, and this one is taking him somewhere. He iswatching his hand."
Silently the boys continued to regard the curious proceeding.
Suddenly the thumb became quiet, there was the rattle of a paper in thehands of the second soldier, and in turn his thumb became affected withthe wagging. In a moment the boys understood.
The two soldiers were army signallers, and were carrying on a silentconversation, using their thumbs as they would a flag.
Jack and Alex looked at one another and laughed softly. "We're bright,eh?" Alex remarked.
"Let us watch when the other starts again--we can't see this chap's handwell enough--and see if we can't read it," suggested Jack. "That one-flagsignal system is based on the telegraph dot and dash code, you know. Andit's not likely they are speaking of anything private--only amusingthemselves."
The paper opposite again covered the first soldier's hand, and observingclosely, after a few minutes the boys were able to interpret the strokesof the wagging thumb with ease. They corresponded precisely to thestrokes of a telegraph sounder, and of course were very much slower.
"... not much. I saw her first," they read. "You have three girls at Know.... Get out. I'll tell Maggie O'Rorke, and she'll pick your eyesout.... No, sir. You can have the two old maids just back of you, and thefat party with the red hair. That's your taste anyway.... If you spokeshe'd freeze you so you'd never thaw out."
The two boys exchanged glances, and chuckled in amusement.
"Say, look at the gaudy nose on that old chap across the aisle," went onthe wagging thumb. "Talk about danger signals! They ought to hire him tosit on the cow-catcher foggy nights.... I wouldn't like to pay for allthe paint it took to color it.... Plain whiskey, I guess. You can seewhat you are coming to if you don't look out.... What's the matter withthat baby back there? Is the woman lynching it, or is it lynching thewoman?... It's not, either. It's just like your high tenor, singing theSoldier's Farewell. Only better. More in tune.... Yes, if they knew whatwe'd been saying about them there'd be a riot. I wouldn't give much foryour hair when the two old ladies behind got through with it."
At this point, unable to resist the temptation, Alex nudged Jack, drew apencil from his pocket, and slyly tapped on the metal of the seat-arm thetwo letters of the telegraph laugh, "Hi!"
The soldier opposite started, looked quickly over, caught the two boys'twinkling eyes, and coloring, laughed heartily. Promptly then he raisedhis thumb, and wagged, "You young rascals! I'll have you in theguard-house for stealing military information. Who are you?"
Alex replied, using his thumb as he had seen the soldier do; and theanimated exchange of signals which followed continued until a whistlefrom the engine announced a stop, and the soldier wagged, "We get offhere. Good-by."
"Glad to have met you," he said, smiling, as he and his companion passedthem.
"Glad to have met you," responded the boys heartily. "And to have gotonto the signalling. It may come in useful some day," Alex added. "Goodday."
"That's just what I was thinking myself, Al," declared Jack. "We mustpractice it."
Following the disappearance of the out-going passengers, a group ofnewcomers appeared at the farther car door.
"Here comes someone I know," Jack observed. "The big man in front--Burke,a real estate agent."
The tall, heavy-featured man passed them and took the seat immediatelybehind.
"He didn't speak to you," commented Alex.
"I'm glad he didn't. He's no friend; just knew him, I meant," respondedJack. "He is a proper shark, they say. I know he practically did a widowout of a bit of property just back of ours.
"And here is another, same business, from the next town. And not muchbetter," Jack went on, as a short, bustling, sharp-featured man appeared.
The man behind them stood up and called, "Hi, there, Mitchell! Here!" Thenewcomer waved his hand, came forward quickly, and also dropped into theseat at the rear of the two boys.
"Nice pair of hawks," said Jack. "I'll bet they are hatching up somethingwith a shady side to it. I'd be tempted to listen if I could."
As the train was again under way, Jack had no opportunity of overhearingwhat was being said behind them. A few miles farther, however, they cameonce more to a stop, and almost immediately he pricked up his ears andnudged Alex.
"... don't believe the ignorant dolt knows the real value of butter andeggs." It was the deep voice of the bigger man, Burke. "He's one of thosequeer ducks, without any friends. Lives there all by himself, doesn'tread the papers, and only comes to town about once a month. No; there'snot one chance in ten of his waking up and getting onto it."
"You always were a lucky dog," declared the other. "If you land it youought to clear fifty thousand inside of five years."
"A hundred. I intend holding for a cold hundred thousand. There has beentalk of the town building a steam plant already; but water is of courseaway ahead of that, and they are sure to swing to it. And this fall isthe only one within ten miles of Haddowville."
"Didn't I tell you!" exclaimed Jack in a whisper. "Doing somebody out ofsomething, whatever it is."
"You might build the plant yourself, and hold the town up for whateveryou wished," the second speaker went on.
"Yes, I could. But I prefer the ready cash. That has always been my planof doing business. No; I figure on disposing of the farm just as itstands, either to the town, or a corporation, for an even hundredthousand."
"Does that give you a clue, Jack?" Alex asked.
Jack shook his head. At the next remark, however, he sharply grippedAlex's arm.
"What fall has the stream there?"
"Forty feet, and the lake back of it is nearly a mile long, and a halfmile wide."
The rumble of the train again drowned the voices of the two men, but Jackhad heard enough. "It's old Uncle Joe Potter--his farm," he said withindignation. "Now I understand. The old farmer apparently doesn't knowits value as an electric power plant site, and Burke is trying to gethold of it for a song."
"Let us put the old man onto him," Alex immediately suggested.
"I'll talk the matter over with Father, and see what he says," said Jack.
"But here comes the good old town," he broke off with boyish enthusiasm."Look, there is the creek, and the old swimming-hole at the bend. I'llbet I've been in there a thousand times. And see that spire--that's ourchurch. Our house is just beyond.
"Come on, let's be gettin
g out."
Catching up their suitcases, the boys passed down the aisle. As theyhalted at the door, they glanced back and saw that their neighbors of thenext seat were following them. The two men were still talking; and comingto a stand behind the boys, the latter caught a further remark from Burkeapparently referring to the Potter farm deal.
"... wrote asking him to town this evening," he was saying. "I'll givehim a bit of a good time to-night, and put him up at one of thehotels--and, unless something unexpected happens, I'll guarantee I'llhave the thing put through by noon to-morrow."
"I hope you do," responded his companion.
"And I hope you don't!" exclaimed Jack beneath his breath. "And I may dosomething more than hope."
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, after a joyous welcome from his father and mother,and sister Kate, and the cordial reception extended Alex, Jack was seatedat his "old corner" of the vine-hidden veranda, recounting theconversation they had overheard between the two real estate men. BeforeMr. Orr had ventured an opinion in the matter, however, the subject wastemporarily thrust aside by the appearance of a party of Kate's girlfriends, evidently much disturbed over something. When on running forwardKate's voice was quickly added to the excited conversation, Jack followedto greet the girls, and learn the cause, and returned with the party tothe veranda.
"Now what do you think of this?" he exclaimed with tragic horror."Professor Robison, the world renowned mind reader (though I never heardof him before), owing to his inability to arrive, will not be able to bepresent at the Girls' Club song-fight to-night! Did you ever!"
"But it's no laughing matter," said Kate, following the introduction ofher friends to Alex. "He was the feature of our program to-night, and Isimply can't see what we are going to do. Many of the people will becoming just to hear him."
"Jack, couldn't you help us out?" asked one of the other girls, halfseriously. "You used to pretend you were a phrenologist and all that kindof thing at school, I remember."
"No thanks, Mary. I've gotten over all that sort of foolishness," Jackresponded, expanding his chest and speaking in a deep voice. "I leavethat for you younger folks."
A small laughing riot followed this pompous declaration, and at itsconclusion Jack carried Alex off to introduce him to his pigeons andchickens, and other former treasures of the back yard.
Some minutes later Jack was dilating on the rich under-color of his petBuff Orpington hen, when Alex, with an apology, abruptly broke in. "Say,Jack, what kind of a crowd do they have at these Girls' Club affairs?Very swell?"
"Well, about everyone in the church goes, and quite a few farmers usuallycome in from out of town. They are as 'swell' as anything we have here, Iguess. The Sunday-school room is usually well filled. Why?"
"I was just wondering whether we _couldn't_ help the girls out, and havea little fun out of it into the bargain. Remember the soldiers on thetrain? Now, why couldn't we," and therewith Alex briefly sketched hisplan. Jack promptly tossed the hen back into the coop. "Great, Al! Wewill! It will be all kinds of a lark. I think there is just the stuffwe'll need up in the garret.
"Come on; we'll break the joyful tidings to the girls."
"I'd rather you played the part, though," said Alex as they returnedtoward the veranda. "You of course know everyone."
"That will make no difference according to this plan. If I am in fullview, too, that will add to the mystery, and help keep up the fun. Thefolks will be breaking their heads to learn who it is on the platform.No; it's settled. You are the distinguished professor andphreno-what-do-you-call-it."
The girls on the veranda were still in dejected debate as the boysreappeared. "Ladies, we've got this thing fixed for you," announced Jack."We have just wirelessed and engaged that world-famous thought-stealer,bumpologist and general seer, Prof. Mahomet Click, of Constantinople, toplug up that hole in your program to-night. He stated that it would givehim great pleasure to come to the assistance of such charming youngwomen, et cetera, and that he could be counted upon."
"You two mean things!" exclaimed Kate. "We saw you with your headstogether out there, laughing. This is no joking matter at all."
"We are serious," Jack protested. "Positively. You go ahead and announcethat owing to an attack of croup, or any other reason, Prof. Robison willnot be able to appear, but that Prof. Click has kindly consented tosubstitute, and we will look after the rest."
"Do you really mean it?" cried the girls.
"On our word as full-grown gentlemen," responded Jack. "But we're notgoing to explain.
"Come on, Alex, until we have further debate with the distinguished Turkup in the garret. He probably has arrived by this time."
Whatever doubts Kate had as to the seriousness of the boys' intentions,they had not only been dissipated by noon, but had given place to livelycuriosity and expectation. Alex and Jack had devoted the entire morningto their mysterious preparations; had made numerous trips to the churchschool-room, to the stores; had borrowed needles, thread, mucilage; hadturned the library shelves upside-down in a search for certain books; andonce, coming on them unawares, she had surprised them practising strangeincantations with their fingers.
It was late in the afternoon that the serious, and what was to prove themost important, feature of the evening's performance developed. On areturn trip to the dry-goods store Jack drew Alex to a halt with anexclamation, and pointed across the street. Burke, the real estate man,was walking slowly along with a shrivelled-up little old gentleman indilapidated hat, faded garments, and top-boots.
"The victim!" said Jack with deep disgust. "Old Uncle Joe Potter.
"Look at him sporting along with a cigar in his mouth--one of Burke'scigars!"
The boys parallelled the oddly assorted pair some distance, and it couldreadily be seen that Burke was doing his best to win the old man'sconfidence, and that the latter already was much impressed with theattention and deference shown him by the well-dressed agent.
"If we could get the old man alone," said Alex.
"Not much chance, I am afraid. Now that he has him in hand, Burkeprobably won't lose sight of him until he has closed his bargain.Remember what he said just before we left the train, about giving the oldchap a good time to-night, and putting him up at one of the hotels."
Alex halted. "Give him a good time! Say, Jack, why shouldn't he give hima good time at the Girls' Club entertainment to-night? And then whyshouldn't we--"
Jack uttered a shout, and struck Alex enthusiastically on the back. "Al,you've hit it! You've hit it! Bully!
"Here! Give me those complimentary tickets Kate gave us, and I'll goright after them, before they make any other arrangements. You wait."
Jack was running across the street in a moment, and drawing up alongsidethe two men, he addressed them both. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, Mr.Burke--but wouldn't you like to take in our Girls' Club entertainmentto-night? It's going to be really quite good--good music, and fun, and abit of tea social in between.
"I'm sure you would enjoy it," he declared, addressing himself to theolder man. "One of the features of the program is a chap who claims hecan read people's thoughts. Of course nobody thinks he can, but he willmake lots of fun."
The old man smiled, and looked at his companion.
"It is up to you, Mr. Potter," responded Burke genially. "If you think youwould enjoy it, why, I would. Your taste is good enough recommendation forme."
"Then let us go," said the old gentleman, putting his hand into hispocket.
"No; this is my treat," interposed Burke, grasping the tickets. "Here youare, lad, and keep the change."
"Thank you, sir," said Jack. And with difficulty restraining a shout, hedashed back toward Alex, waving his hat above his head as a token ofvictory.
The scene of the Girls' Club entertainment, the church school-room, wasfilled to the doors when the program began that evening.
"I'm beginning to be anxious about Mr. Burke and the old man, though,"obser
ved Jack, who with Alex had been standing near the entrance, andremarking on the good attendance. A moment after the door again opened,and Jack started forward with an expression of relief. They had come.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Burke," he said. "Shall I find you aseat?"
"Yes, and a good one, now," requested the real estate man.
"I saved two, well to the front," responded Jack. "This way, please."
"Now, Alex," he said, returning, "it's up to us."
The "mind-reading" number on the program was at length reached. Thechairman arose.
"I am very sorry to say, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "that Prof.Robison, who is next on the program, was unexpectedly not able to keephis engagement. However, in his place we have secured the services ofProf. Mahmoud Click, of Constantinople; astrologer, phrenologist,mind-reader, and general all-round seer; and I am sure you will find himno less instructive and entertaining."
Despite this assurance, in the silence which followed there was adistinct note of disappointment, even displeasure. For it was obviousthat the flowery title of the substitute concealed some local amateur.
Disappointment, however, quickly gave place to a flutter of interest whenthe rear door opened, and preceded by Jack Orr, there swept down theaisle a tall, venerable figure in flowing robes; white-bearded,spectacled, and crowned with a tall conical hat bearing strangehieroglyphics.
When, on Jack stepping aside and taking an unobtrusive front seat, theaged professor mounted the platform and solemnly surveyed his audience,titters, then a burst of laughter swept over the school-room. The longyellow robe was covered with grotesque caricatures of cats, frogs, dogs,cranes and turtles, interspersed with great black question-marks.
The famed Oriental turned about toward a table, and the laughing brokeout afresh. In the center of his back was a large cat's-head, withwonderfully squinting eyes. When the cat slowly closed one distortedoptic in a wink, then smiled, there was an unrestrained shout ofmerriment, and those who were not excitedly inquiring of one another theidentity of the "seer," settled back in their seats expectantly.
Placing the table at the front of the platform, the professor again facedthe audience, and with dignified air, and deep, tragic voice, addressedthem.
"Ladees and gentlemans. Ze chairman have spoke. I am Mahmoud Click, zegreat seer, ze great mind-read, ze great bump-read, ze great profess.(Laughter.) I am ze seventeen son, of ze seventeen son, of ze seventeenson.
"An' also have I bring for do ze magic pass," thrusting a hand within hisrobe, "Tom ze Terrible, ze son of Tom, ze son of Tom."
The hand reappeared, and placed on the table a tiny black kitten.
The burst of laughter which greeted this was renewed when the tiny animalbegan making playful passes at a spool on a string which the dignifiedprofessor held before it, remarking, "See? Ze magic pass.
"Now Tom ze Terrible will answer ze question, and show he onderstan' zeIngleesh," the magician announced, at the same time swinging the spoolout of the kitten's sight.
"Tom, how old you are?"
The spool was swung back, the kitten began again hitting at it, solemnlythe professor counted to twenty, and whisked the spool away. "Twentyyear. Correc'.
"You see, ladees and gentlemans, ze venerable cat he cannot makemistake," he observed amid laughing applause.
"Now Tom, tell some odder ting. How old is ze chairman?" indicating thedignified elderly man at the farther end of the platform. "Five? Correc'.
"You see, he always is right, yes.
"Now, Tom, how old is ze Rev. Mr. Borden?... Seven? Correc' again."
When the laughter which followed this "demonstration" had subsided theprofessor took up a new line. Earlier in the evening a certain JohnPeters, one of the town's foppish young gallants, and who now occupied aprominent front seat, had widely announced the fact that he was presentfor the express purpose of "showing the mind-reader up." At himaccordingly the first quip was directed.
"Now Tom, tell ze audience, how many girl have Mr. John WilberforcePeters?" was asked. "What? None?" For, the spool being held out of sight,the kitten gazed before it stolidly, without raising a foot. "Well, howmany does he think he have?"
The spool being returned, the kitten tapped it ten times, paused, andstruck it eight more, while the resulting wave of amusement grew, and theover-dressed object glowered threateningly at the figure on the platform.
"And how many will he marry?... What? Not one? Well, well," commented theseer, to further hearty laughter.
"Now tell us about some of ze young ladies," the professor went on. "Howmany beaux has Miss K. O.?" While Kate Orr bridled indignantly the spoolwas lowered, and the kitten tapped several times on one side, severaltimes on the other, then, to an outburst of laughing and clapping, sat upand began hitting it rapidly with both paws.
"I was unable to keep ze count," announced the seer, "but apparentlyabout ze seventy-five. Miss O. she is popular wiz ze young men, yes.
"And now, Tom," continued the magician, "how many special lady friendhave Mr. Kumming (an extremely bashful member of the choir)?...Twenty-two! And how many young lady are in ze choir? Twenty-two!
"Ah! A strange coincidence," observed the learned professor amid muchmerriment.
With similar quips and jokes the mind-reader continued, then giving thekitten into the charge of a little girl in a front seat, announced:
"Now will I read ze head. Will some small boys please come up and bringtheir heads and bumps?"
Coaxing finally brought a half-dozen grinning youngsters of eight or tento the platform. From the pocket of the last to respond protruded theunmistakable cover of a dime-novel. Him the professor seized first, andhaving gravely examined his head, announced, "Ladees and gentlemans, forthis boy I predict a great future. Never have I seen such sign ofliterary taste. Yes, he will be great--unless he go west to kill zeIndian, and ze Indian see him first."
On turning to the head of the second boy, the phrenologist started,looked more sharply, and slowly straightening up, announced, "Ladees andgentlemans, I have made ze great discovery. This boy some days you willbe proud to know. Never have I seen such a lovely bump--for eat ze pie!And any kind of pie you will name. He don't care. He will eat it."
And so, to continued laughter, he went on, finding remarkable cake-bumps,holiday-bumps, and picnic-bumps, and proportionately under-developedschool and chore-bumps--with the exception of one glowing example, whichfinally proved to have been developed by a baseball bat.
Then came the "mind-reading." Placing a small blackboard on the front ofthe platform, facing the audience, the professor seated himself in achair ten feet behind it, and invited someone to step to the board andwrite.
"All I ask is," announced the mind-reader, "please write not too fast,and fix ze mind on what you write. And by ze thought-wave will I tell it,letter by letter."
The first to respond wrote the name of his father, a doctor. Expectingonly some humorous guess as to what was written, the audience wassomewhat surprised when the professor spelled out the name correctly,only adding the humorous touch of "mud," hastily corrected to "M. D." Asothers followed with figures, and more difficult names and words, theinterest of the audience began to take on a new tone.
The last of the first party which had stepped forward to write was theover-dressed young man Alex had poked some of his fun at, and who wasbent on "showing him up."
He wrote: "You are a faker."
"Explain to ze audience how I do it, zen, Mr. Peters," retorted theprofessor. In some confusion Peters sought his seat, and the ministerapproached the board.
The interest of the audience had now become serious and silent. Even KateOrr, though knowing there was trickery somewhere, was nonplussed. ForJack, in the front row, appeared as immovable, and as frankly interestedas those about him. Loosely folded in his lap was a newspaper which for amoment attracted Kate's suspicious eye; but watching closely, she saw notthe hint of a movement that might have been a signal.
The mi
nister's first word was the name Hosea. This was promptly calledoff, and the writer went on with others, gradually more difficult.Finally, in rapid succession, one under the other, he wrote "ZEDEKIAH,AHOLIBAH, NEBUCHADNEZZAR." As readily the figure on the platformannounced them, and the reverend gentleman turned away with an expressionfrankly puzzled.
"Pardon me, Mr. Professor, but since this is genuine mind-reading, ofcourse you could read just as well with your eyes blindfolded, could younot? Would you kindly give a demonstration that way?"
It was Peters. There was immediate clapping at the suggestion, and callsof "Yes, yes! Do it blindfolded!"
In alarm Kate, from her seat, gazed toward Jack. To her surprise he wasone of the most energetic in clapping the proposal.
The professor himself, however, was plainly disconcerted, to theparticular delight of Peters and his circle of friends, who, as themind-reader continued to hesitate, clapped more and more loudly.
Finally the seer arose. "Well, ladees and gentlemans, if you wish,certainly. Though I do read just as good with my eyes open."
This negative statement brought further derisive laughter and clappingfrom Peters and his friends, which was added to when the professorcontinued, "Will some young lady be kind enough to lend me zehandkerchief--ze tiny leetle one with plenty holes all round?"
Peters was again on his feet. "Here is one!"
It was a large, dark neckerchief, obviously brought for this verypurpose. As Peters stepped forward and mounted the platform the professorremoved his spectacles with apparent reluctance. Broadly smiling, Petersthrew the folded kerchief over the mind-reader's eyes, saw that it fittedsnugly, and tied it. "Now we've got you, Mr. Smart, of Constantinople,"he whispered derisively.
"Have ze good time and laugh while you may," responded the professor, andraising his voice he asked, "Will someone kindly bring ze glass water?Mind-reading, it is dry."
It was Jack started to his feet, passed down the room, and returned withthe desired water. Watching, Kate expected to see a consultation betweenthe two boys, as to some way out of the apparent difficulty. Jack,however, merely placed the glass in the extended hand, and received itback without the exchange of a syllable. Not only that, he returned tothe back of the hall, and instead of resuming his seat at the front,mounted to a window ledge at the rear.
"Well, I am ready," announced the professor. "And I make ze suggestionthat Mr. Peters himself write ze first."
The latter was speedily at the board. As he wrote, a silence fell.Previously the professor had called off each letter as written. This timethere was no response. With a smile that gradually broadened to a laughPeters finished an odd Indian name, and asked, "The thought-waves haven'tgone astray already, have they, Mr. Professor? Haven't been frightenedoff by a mere handkerchief, surely?"
"I was wondering how to pronounce it," came the quiet response. "I'llspell it instead. It is,
"'M U S Q U O D O B O I T.'"
Peters stared blankly. Not more blankly than the majority of theaudience, however, including Kate herself. She turned toward Jack. Heappeared as surprised as Peters. Indeed, if there was anythingsuspicious, it was that Jack appeared a trifle over-astonished.
As the burst of applause which followed the first surprise was succeededby a wave of laughter, Kate turned back to discover Peters, very red inthe face, drawing on the board a picture. As she looked a grotesquelyugly face took shape. The face completed, there was a renewed burst ofmerriment when Peters topped it with a fool's-cap, and on that sketchedrough hieroglyphics.
"Now whose picture have I drawn?" he demanded loudly.
"Well, you tried to draw mine," responded the professor, dropping intonormal English, "but as the dunce's tie is far up the back of his collar,I leave the audience to decide whose it is."
At this there were shouts and shrieks of laughter, and Peters, hurriedlyfeeling, and finding his own tie far out of place, threw the chalk to thefloor and dashed back to his seat amid a perfect bedlam of hilarity.
The uproar soon subsided, however, for not one in the crowded room butwas now thoroughly wonderstruck at the demonstration. Some of the olderpeople began to step forward, writing the most difficult names they couldthink of, meaningless words, groups of figures. A teacher chalked aproposition in algebra. Without error all were called out promptly.
The climax was reached when one of the church elders advanced to theboard, and while writing, fixed his eyes on something in his half-openedhand.
Without hesitation the blindfolded unknown announced, "Mr. Storey iswriting the name of one of the Apostles, but is thinking of a penknife."
The clapping which followed was scattered and brief. "It's simplyuncanny," exclaimed one of Kate's neighbors. Kate, glancing back towardJack, shook her head. Up there, in full view, she could not possibly seehow he could have anything to do with it.
At this point the minister again stepped forward. "Will you answer a fewquestions?" he scrawled.
"With pleasure, Mr. Borden."
"How old am I?"
"Forty-nine next September."
The minister ran his fingers through his hair, perplexedly.
"How old is Mrs. Borden?"
There was a slight pause, then in gallant tones came the answer,"Twenty-two."
Amid a renewal of laughter, and much clapping from the ladies, theminister was about to turn away, when on second thought he turned back,and wrote:
"Name the twelve Apostles."
For the first time the learned seer displayed signs of uneasiness. Aftersome stumbling, however, he completed the list.
With a twinkle in his eyes, the preacher inscribed a second question,"Name Joshua's captains."
Prof. Click cleared his throat, ran his fingers down his beard, moveduneasily in his chair, and at length, while a smile began to spread overthe room, shook his head.
"But I am thinking of them--hard," declared the minister, chuckling.
The professor was again about to shake his head, when suddenly he paused,then replied boldly, "Shem, Ham, Hezekiah, Hittite, Peter, Goliath,Solomon and Pharaoh."
It was during the shouts of merriment following this ridiculous responsethat Kate's mystification began to dissolve. Glancing again toward herbrother, she saw that, despite a show of laughing, there was anuneasiness in his face similar to that shown by the professor. And whenpresently she saw him cast a covertly longing eye toward a pile of Biblesin the next window, she turned back to the platform, silently laughing.She thought she had discovered the source of the "thought waves."
The success of the brazenly invented answer to the last question,meantime, had quite restored the professor's confidence, and as theminister went on, he continued to respond in the same ridiculous fashion,claiming, on the minister's protest, that he was only reading thethought-waves as they came to him. And finally the pastor laughingly gaveit up.
At the next, and final, "demonstration" mystification of another kindcame to the observant Kate. Rising to his feet, the mind-reader announcedthat he would now inform a few of the "stronger thinkers" before him thesubject of their thoughts; and both in his manner and tone Kate noted anunmistakable nervousness. Glancing toward Jack, she saw that his facealso was grave, and with a stirring of apprehension of she knew not what,she waited.
"The first thought which reaches me," began the professor, "is from MissMary Andrews. Miss Andrews thinks her pretty toque is on straight. It'snot quite. I think one pin is coming out."
Following this laughingly applauded "reading," the speaker informed MissJames that she was thinking her lace collar was not loose behind. "Whichwas quite correct." As also was Mr. Storey's impression that there wasnot a long blond hair on his coat collar. "There was not."
Then Kate distinctly saw the speaker take a deep breath.
"Mr. Joseph Potter is a strong thinker," he proceeded. "I read severalthoughts from Mr. Potter."
The old farmer, to whom the whole performance had appeared as nothingless than magic, leaned out into the aisle, breathles
s and staring.
"It seems to me, Mr. Potter," the mind-reader went on, "it seems to meyou are thinking about some important business deal--some big dealconcerning land."
The old man's mouth opened.
"Also it seems to me that this land may be worth a great deal morethan--"
There was an exclamation, a commotion, and Burke, the real estate man,was on his feet. A moment he stood staring, as though doubting his ears,then catching up his hat he said in a loud voice, "Come, Mr. Potter, wemust go. That other engagement, you know--I had forgotten it."
The old man sprang up, and brushed Burke aside. "Go on! Go on!" he criedtoward the figure on the platform. The startled audience gazed from oneto another. Several arose.
"It seems to me," resumed Alex quietly, "that there is a waterfall onyour farm, and that--"
"Hold on there! Hold on!" The words came in a shout, and springing intothe aisle, Burke strode toward the platform, purple with rage. "What doyou mean? What are you doing?
"Who is this man?" he demanded at the top of his lungs. "I demand toknow! What does he mean by--?"
Swiftly hobbling down the aisle behind him, the old man attempted topass. Roughly Burke pushed him back.
The minister stepped forward. "Mr. Burke, what do you mean?"
"What does this man here mean by--by--"
"Yes, by what, Mr. Burke?"
"By making reflections against me," shouted Burke. "I demand anexplanation! I--"
"But my dear sir, I am sure nothing was said--"
The old man dodged by, ran to the edge of the platform, and cried in athin, high voice, "Do you mean my farm? My farm that Burke wants to buy?"
There was a momentary silence, during which here and there could be heardlong in-drawn gasps. Then abruptly Alex tore the bandage from his eyes,swept off the hat and beard, and stepped to the front.
"There need be no further mystery about this," he declared in a grimlysteady voice. "On the train this morning Jack Orr and I accidentallyoverheard--"
From Burke came a scream, he sprang forward with raised fists, faltered,and suddenly whirling about, dashed down the aisle for the door, and out.And in the breathless silence which followed Alex completed hisexplanation.
As the old man climbed the platform steps and extended a shaking hand,the applause that burst from every corner of the room fairly rattled thewindows; and as the uproar continued, and Alex sprang hastily to thefloor, he was surrounded by a jostling, enthusiastic crowd of strangersfrom whom in vain he sought to escape.
Some minutes later, enjoying tea and cake in a circle which included theminister, the latter smilingly remarked, "But you haven't yet explainedthe rest of the mysterious doings, Master Alex. Aren't you going toenlighten us all round? Prefer to keep it a secret, eh? Well, if you willpromise us another 'exposition' I'm sure we will agree not to press you,"declared the minister, heartily.
And as a matter of fact, save Kate, no one has yet solved the mystery,not even the janitor, although on cutting the grass a few days later hepicked up beneath one of the school-room windows an unaccountable pieceof fine copper wire.