*RARY 
 
 ERSITYOF 
 -IFORNIA 
 ITA CRUZ 
 
VERA, THE MEDIUM 
 
 "MISS CIVILIZATION 
 
Vera, in a hushed and solemn voice, called for silence 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 "Miss Civilization" 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD HARDING DAVIS 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 NEW YORK:::::::::::::::::::::::::i 9 n 
 
VERA, THE MEDIUM 
 
 COPYRIGHT. 1908, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 "MISS CIVILIZATION" 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY 
 COLLIER'S WEEKLY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
PS 
 I5JU, 
 
 V4- 
 
 14 // 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 VERA, THE MEDIUM i 
 
 "Miss CIVILIZATION" 165 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Vera, in a hushed and solemn voice, called for silence 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 "Fix it?" said the reporter. "Not with me, you 
 
 can't" 16 
 
 "I will not," she rebelled. "I hate it!" .... 68 
 
 Suddenly they saw each other with a new and won 
 derful sympathy 106 
 
 "Professor Strombergk," announced Vance. . . . 142 
 
 "Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured 150 
 
VERA, THE MEDIUM 
 
TO 
 VANDERHEYDEN FYLES 
 
VERA, THE MEDIUM 
 
 PART I 
 
 HAPPY in the hope that the news \va? "ex 
 clusive," the Despatch had throw; i the 
 name of Stephen Hallowell, his portrait, a picture 
 of his house, and the words, "At Point of Death!" 
 across three columns. The announcement was 
 heavy, lachrymose, bristling with the melancholy 
 self-importance of the man who "saw the de 
 ceased, just two minutes before the train hit him." 
 
 But the effect of the news fell short of the effort. 
 Save that city editors were irritated that the presi 
 dents of certain railroads figured hastily on slips 
 of paper, the fact that an old man and his mil 
 lions would soon be parted, left New York undis 
 turbed. 
 
 In the early '8o's this would not have been 
 so. Then, in the uplifting of the far West, Stephen 
 Hallowell was a national figure, in the manoeuvres 
 of the Eastern stock market an active, alert power. 
 In those days, when a man with a few millions 
 
 3 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 was still listed as rich, his fortune was considered 
 colossal. 
 
 A patent coupling-pin, the invention of his 
 brother-in-law, had given him his start, and, in 
 introducing it, and in his efforts to force it upon 
 the new railroads of the West, he had obtained a 
 knowledge of their affairs. From that knowledge 
 came his wealth. That was twenty years ago. 
 Since then giants had arisen in the land; men 
 whose wealth made the fortune of Stephen Hallo- 
 well appear a comfortable competence, his schemes 
 and stratagems, which, in their day, had bewildered 
 Wall Street, as simple as the trading across the 
 counter of a cross-roads store. 
 
 For years he had been out of it. He had lost 
 count. Disuse and ill-health had rendered his 
 mind feeble, made him at times suspicious, at 
 times childishly credulous. Without friends, alone 
 with his physician and the butler, who was also 
 his nurse, he lived in the house that in '76, in a 
 burst of vanity, he had built on Fifth Avenue. 
 Then the house was a " mansion," and its front of 
 brown sandstone the outward sign of wealth and 
 fashion. Now, on one side, it rubbed shoulders 
 with the shop of a man milliner, and across the 
 street the houses had been torn down and re 
 placed by a department store. Now, instead of 
 
 4 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 a sombre jail-like facade, his outlook was a row 
 of waxen ladies, who, before each change of sea 
 son, appeared in new and gorgeous raiment, and, 
 across the avenue, for his approval, smiled con 
 tinually. 
 
 "It is time you moved, Stephen," urged his 
 friend and lawyer, Judge Henry Gaylor. "I can 
 get you twice as much for this lot as you paid for 
 both it and the house." 
 
 But Mr. Hallowell always shook his head. 
 "Where would I go, Henry?" he would ask. 
 "What would I do with the money? No, I will 
 live in this house until I am carried out of it." 
 
 With distaste, the irritated city editors " followed 
 up" the three-column story of the Despatch. 
 
 "Find out if there's any truth in that," they 
 commanded. "The old man won't see you, but 
 get a talk out of Rainey. And see Judge Gaylor. 
 He's close to Hallowell. Find out from him if 
 that story didn't start as a bear yarn in Wall 
 Street." ' 
 
 So, when Walsh of the Despatch was conducted 
 by Garrett, the butler of Mr. Hallowell, upstairs 
 to that gentleman's library, he found a group of 
 reporters already entrenched. At the door that 
 
 5 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 opened from the library to the bedroom, the but 
 ler paused. "What paper shall I say ?" he asked. 
 
 "The Despatch^ Walsh told him. 
 
 The servant turned quickly and stared at 
 Walsh. 
 
 He appeared the typical butler, an Englishman 
 of over forty, heavily built, soft-moving, with 
 ruddy, smooth-shaven cheeks and prematurely 
 gray hair. But now from his face the look of 
 perfunctory politeness had fallen; the subdued 
 voice had changed to a snarl that carried with it 
 the accents of the Tenderloin. 
 
 "So, you're the one, are you?" the man mut 
 tered. 
 
 For a moment he stood scowling; insolent, 
 almost threatening; and then, once more, the ser 
 vant opened the door and noiselessly closed it 
 behind him. 
 
 The transition had been so abrupt, the revela 
 tion so unexpected, that the men laughed. 
 
 "I don't blame him!" said young Irving. "I 
 couldn't find a single fact in the whole story. 
 How'd your people get it pretty straight?" 
 
 " Seemed straight to us," said Walsh. 
 
 "Well, you didn't handle it that way," re 
 turned the other. "Why didn't you quote Rai- 
 ney or Gaylor? It seems to me if a man's on 
 
 6 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 the point of death" he lowered his voice and 
 glanced toward the closed door "that his pri 
 vate doctor and his lawyer might know some 
 thing about it." 
 
 Standing alone with his back to the window 
 was a reporter who had greeted no one and to 
 whom no one had spoken. 
 
 Had he held himself erect he would have been 
 tall, but he stood slouching lazily, his shoulders 
 bent, his hands in his pockets. When he spoke his 
 voice was in keeping with the indolence of his 
 bearing. It was soft, hesitating, carrying with it 
 the courteous deference of the South. Only his 
 eyes showed that to what was going forward he 
 was alert and attentive. 
 
 "Is Dr. Rainey Mr. Halloweirs family doc 
 tor?" he asked. 
 
 Irving surveyed him in amused superiority. , 
 
 "He is!" he answered. "You been long in 
 New York?" he asked. 
 
 Upon the stranger the sarcasm was lost, or he 
 chose to ignore it, for he answered simply, "No, 
 Fm a New Orleans boy. I've just been taken on 
 the Republtc." 
 
 "Welcome to our city," said Irving. "What 
 do you think of our Main Street ? " 
 
 From the hall a tall portly man entered the 
 7 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 room with the assurance of one much at home 
 here and, with an exclamation, Irving fell upon 
 him. 
 
 "Good-morning, Judge," he called. He waved 
 at him the clipping from the Despatch. "Have 
 you seen this ? " 
 
 Judge Gaylor accepted the slip of paper gingerly, 
 and in turn moved his fine head pompously tow 
 ard each of the young men. Most of them were 
 known to him, but for the moment he preferred 
 to appear too deeply concerned to greet them. 
 With an expression of shocked indignation, he 
 recognized only Walsh. 
 
 "Yes, I have seen it," he said, "and there 
 is not a word of truth in it! Mr. Walsh, I am 
 surprised! You, of all people!" 
 
 "We got it on very good authority," said the 
 reporter. 
 
 "But why not call me up and get the facts?" 
 demanded the Judge. "I was here until twelve 
 o'clock, and 
 
 "Here!" interrupted Irving. "Then he did 
 have a collapse ? " 
 
 Judge Gaylor swung upon his heel. 
 
 "Certainly not," he retorted angrily. "I was 
 here on business, and I have never known his 
 mind more capable, more alert." He lifted his 
 
 8 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 hands with an enthusiastic gesture. "I wish you 
 could have seen him!" 
 
 "Well," urged Irving, "how about our seeing 
 him now ?" 
 
 For a moment Judge Gaylor permitted his 
 annoyance to appear, but he at once recovered 
 and, murmuring cheerfully, "Certainly, certainly; 
 I'll try to arrange it," turned to the butler who 
 had re-entered the room. 
 
 "Garrett," he inquired, "is Mr. Hallowell 
 awake yet ? " As he asked the question his eye 
 brows rose; with an almost imperceptible shake 
 of the head he signalled for an answer in the 
 negative. 
 
 "Well, there you are!" the Judge exclaimed 
 heartily. "I can't wake him, even to oblige you. 
 In a word, gentlemen, Stephen Hallowell has never 
 been in better health, mentally and bodily. You can 
 say that from me and that's all there is to say." 
 
 "Then, we can say," persisted Irving, "that 
 you say, that Walsh's story is a fake ? " 
 
 "You can say it is not true," corrected Gaylor. 
 "That's all, gentlemen." The audience was at 
 an end. The young men moved toward the 
 hall and Judge Gaylor turned to the bedroom. 
 As he did so, he found that the new man on the 
 Republic still held his ground. 
 
 9 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 " Could I have a word with you, sir ? " the 
 stranger asked. The reporters halted jealously. 
 Again Gaylor showed his impatience. 
 
 "About Mr. Harwell's health ?" he demanded. 
 "There's nothing more to say." 
 
 "No, it's not about his health," ventured the 
 reporter. 
 
 "Well, not now. I am very late this morning." 
 The Judge again moved to the bedroom and the 
 reporter, as though accepting the verdict, started 
 to follow the others. As he did so, as though 
 in explanation or as a warning he added: "You 
 said to always come to you for the facts." The 
 lawyer halted, hesitated. "What facts do you 
 want?" he asked. The reporter bowed, and 
 waved his broad felt hat toward the listening men. 
 In polite embarrassment he explained what he 
 had to say could not be spoken in their presence. 
 
 Something in the manner of the stranger led 
 Judge Gaylor to pause. He directed Garrett to 
 accompany the reporters from the room. Then, 
 with mock politeness, he turned to the one who 
 remained. "I take it, you are a new-comer in 
 New York journalism. What is your name ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 "My name is Homer Lee," said the South 
 erner. " I am a New Orleans boy. I've been only 
 
 10 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 a month in your city. Judge," he began earnestly, 
 but in a voice which still held the drawl of the 
 South, "I met a man from home last week on 
 Broadway. He belonged to that spiritualistic 
 school on Carondelet Street. He knows all that's 
 going on in the spook world, and he tells me the 
 ghost raisers have got their hooks into the old 
 man pretty deep. Is that so?" 
 
 The bewilderment of Judge Gaylor was com 
 plete and, without question, genuine. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean," he said. 
 
 "My informant tells me," continued the re 
 porter, "that Mr. Hallowell has embraced if 
 that's what you call it spiritualism." 
 
 Gaylor started forward. 
 
 "What!" he roared. 
 
 Unmoved, the other regarded the Judge keenly. 
 
 "Spiritualism," he repeated, "and that a bunch 
 of these mediums have got him so hypnotized he 
 can't call his soul his own, or his money, either. 
 Is that true ?" 
 
 Judge Gaylor's outburst was overwhelming. 
 That it was genuine Mr. Lee, observing him 
 closely, was convinced. 
 
 "Of all the outrageous, ridiculous" the Judge 
 halted, gasping for words "and libellous state 
 ments!" he went on. "If you print that," he 
 
 ii 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 thundered, "Mr. Hallowell will sue your paper 
 for half a million dollars. Can't you see the 
 damage you would do ? Can't your people see 
 that if the idea got about that he was unable to 
 direct his own affairs, that he was in the hands of 
 mediums, it would invalidate everything he does ? 
 After his death, every act of his at this time, every 
 paper he had signed, would be suspected, and 
 and" stammered the Judge as his imagination 
 pictured what might follow: "they might even 
 attack his will ! " He advanced truculently. " Do 
 you mean to publish this libel ? " 
 
 Lee moved his shoulders in deprecation. "I'm 
 afraid we must" he said. 
 
 "You must!" demanded Gaylor. "After what 
 I've told you ? Do you think I'm lying to 
 you?" 
 
 "No," said the reporter; "I don't think you 
 are. Looks more like you didn't know." 
 
 "Not know? I?" Gaylor laughed hysteri 
 cally. "I am his lawyer. I am his best friend! 
 Who will you believe ? " He stepped to the table 
 and pressed an electric button, and Garrett ap 
 peared in the hall. "Tell Dr. Rainey I want to 
 see him," Gaylor commanded, "and return with 
 him." 
 
 As they waited, Judge Gaylor paced quickly 
 12 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 to and fro. "I've had to deny some pretty silly 
 stories about Mr. Hallowell," he said, "but of 
 all the absurd, malicious There's some enemy 
 back of this; some one in Wall Street is doing 
 this. But I'll find him I'll " he was inter 
 rupted by the entrance of the butler and Dr. 
 Rainey, Mr. Hallowell's personal physician. 
 
 Rainey was a young man with a weak face, and 
 knowing, shifting eyes that blinked behind a pair 
 of eye-glasses. To conceal an indecision of char 
 acter of which he was quite conscious, he assumed 
 a manner that, according to whom he addressed, 
 was familiar or condescending. At one of the 
 big hospitals he had been an ambulance surgeon 
 and resident physician, later he had started upon 
 a somewhat doubtful career as a medical "expert." 
 Only two years had passed since the police and the 
 reporters of the Tenderloin had ceased calling 
 him "Doc." In a celebrated criminal case in 
 which Gaylor had acted as chief counsel, he had 
 found Rainey complaisant and apparently totally 
 without the moral sense. And when in Garrett he 
 had discovered for Mr. Hallowell a model servant, 
 he had also urged upon his friend, for his resident 
 physician, his protege Rainey. 
 
 Still at white heat, the older man began ab 
 ruptly: 
 
 13 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "This gentleman is from the Republic. He is 
 going to publish a story that Mr. Hallowell has 
 fallen under the influence of mediums, clairvoy 
 ants; that everything he does is on advice from 
 the spirit world " he turned sharply upon Lee. 
 "Is that right?" The reporter nodded. 
 
 "You can see the effect of such a story. It 
 would invalidate every act of Mr. Halloweirs!" 
 
 Dr. Rainey laughed offensively. 
 
 "It might," he said, "but who'd believe it?" 
 
 "He believes it!" cried Gaylor, "or he pretends 
 to believe it. Tell him!" he commanded. "He 
 won't believe me. Does Mr. Hallowell associate 
 with mediums, and spirits and spooks?" 
 
 Again the young doctor laughed. 
 
 "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "It's not 
 worth answering, Judge. You ought to treat it 
 with silent contempt." From behind his glasses 
 he winked at the reporter with a jocular, intimate 
 smile. He was adapting himself to what he im 
 agined was his company. "Where did you pick 
 up that pipe dream?" he asked. 
 
 Without answering, the Southerner regarded 
 him steadily with inquiring, interested eyes. 
 The doctor coughed nervously and turned to 
 Judge Gaylor. In the manner of a cross-exami 
 nation Gaylor called up his next witness. 
 
 14 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Garrett, does any one visit Mr. Hallowell 
 without your knowledge?" he asked. "You 
 may not open the door for him, but rou know 
 every one who gets in to see Mr. Hallowell, do 
 you not ? " 
 
 "Every one, sir." 
 
 "Do you admit any mediums, palm-readers, 
 or people of that sort?" 
 
 "Certainly not," returned the butler. 
 
 "Dr. Rainey," he added, "would not permit 
 it, sir." 
 
 Gaylor stamped his foot with impatience. 
 
 "Do you admit any one," he demanded, "with 
 out Dr. Rainey' s permission?" 
 
 "No, sir!" The reply could not have rung 
 with greater emphasis. Triumphantly, Gaylor, 
 with a wave of the hand, as though saying, "Take 
 the witness," turned to Lee. "There you are," 
 he cried. "Now, are you satisfied?" 
 
 The reporter moved slowly toward the door. 
 "I am satisfied," he said, "that the man doesn't 
 admit any one without Dr. Rainey' s permission." 
 
 Indignantly, as though to intercept him, Judge 
 Gaylor stepped forward. Both Rainey and him 
 self spoke together. 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" Rainey de 
 manded. 
 
 IS 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Are you trying to be insolent, sir?" cried the 
 Judge. 
 
 Lee smiled pleasantly. "I had no intention of 
 being insolent," he said. "We have the facts I 
 only came to give you a chance to explain them." 
 
 Gaylor lost all patience. 
 
 "What facts?" he shouted. "What facts? 
 That mediums come here ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Lee. 
 
 "When?" Gaylor cried. "Tell me that! 
 When?" 
 
 Lee regarded the older man thoughtfully. 
 
 "Well, to-day is Thursday," he said. "They 
 were here Monday morning, and Tuesday morn 
 ing and the one they call Vera will be here 
 in half an hour." 
 
 Rainey ran across the room, stretching out 
 eager, detaining hands. 
 
 "See here!" he begged. "We can fix this!" 
 
 "Fix it?" said the reporter. "Not with me, 
 you can't." He turned to the door and found 
 Garrett barring his exit. He halted, fell back 
 on his heels, and straightened his shoulders. For 
 the first time they saw how tall he was. 
 
 "Get out of my way," he said. The butler 
 hesitated and fell back. Lee walked into the 
 hall. 
 
 16 
 
"Fix it?" said the reporter. "Not with me, you can't" 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I'll leave you gentlemen to fight it out among 
 you," he said. "It's a better story than I thought." 
 
 As he descended to the floor below, the men 
 remained motionless. The face of Judge Gaylor 
 seemed to have grown older. When the front 
 door closed, he turned and searched the counte 
 nance of each of his companions. The butler had 
 dropped into a chair muttering and beating his 
 fist into his open palm. 
 
 Gaylor' s voice was hardly louder than a whisper. 
 "Is this true?" he asked. 
 
 Like a cur dog pinned in a corner and forced 
 to fight, Rainey snarled at him evilly. " Of course 
 it's true," he said. 
 
 "You've let these people see him!" cried 
 Gaylor. "After I forbade it? After I told you 
 what would happen ?" 
 
 "He would see them," Rainey answered hotly. 
 "'Twas better I chose them than " 
 
 Gaylor raised his clenched hands and took a 
 sudden step forward. The Doctor backed hastily 
 against the library table. "Don't you come near 
 me!" he stammered. "Don't you touch me." 
 
 "And you've lied to me!" cried Gaylor. 
 "You've deceived me. You you jailbirds you 
 idiots." His voice rose hysterically. "And do you 
 think," he demanded fiercely, "I'll help you now ?" 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "No!" said the butler. 
 
 The word caught the Judge in the full rush of 
 his anger. He turned stupidly as though he had 
 not heard aright. "What?" he asked. From 
 the easy-chair the butler regarded him with sullen, 
 hostile eyes. 
 
 "No!" he repeated. "We don't think you'll 
 help us. You never meant to help us. You've 
 never thought of any one but yourself." 
 
 The face of the older man was filled with re 
 proach. 
 
 "Jim!" he protested. 
 
 "Don't do that!" commanded the butler 
 sharply. "I've told you not to do that." 
 
 The Judge moved his head slowly in amaze 
 ment. The tone of reproach was still in his voice. 
 
 "I thought you could understand," he said. 
 "It doesn't matter about him. But you! You 
 should have seen what I was doing!" 
 
 "I saw what you were doing," the butler re 
 plied. "Buying stocks, buying a country place. 
 You didn't wait for him to die. What were we 
 getting?" 
 
 With returning courage, Rainey nodded vigor 
 ously. 
 
 "That's right, all right," he protested. "What 
 were we getting ? " 
 
 18 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "What were you getting?" demanded Gaylor, 
 eagerly. "If you'd only left him to me, till he 
 signed the new will, you'd have had everything. 
 It only needs his signature." 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Garrett contemptuously; 
 "that's all it needs." 
 
 "Oh, he'd have signed it!" cried Gaylor. 
 "But what's it worth now! Nothing! Thanks 
 to you two nothing! They'll claim undue in 
 fluence, they'll claim he signed it under the in 
 fluence of mediums of ghosts." His voice shook 
 with anger and distress. "You've ruined me!" 
 he cried. " You've ruined me." 
 
 He turned and paced from them, his fingers 
 interlacing, his teeth biting upon his lower lip. 
 The two other men glanced at each other uncom 
 fortably; their silence seemed to assure Gaylor 
 that already they regretted what they had done. 
 He stood over Garrett, and for an instant laid his 
 hand upon his shoulder. His voice now was 
 sane and cold. 
 
 "I've worked three years for this," he said. 
 "And for you, too, Jim. You know that. I've 
 worked on his vanity, on his fear of death, on his 
 damn superstition. When he talked of restitu 
 tion, of giving the money to his niece, I asked 
 'Why?' I said, 'Leave it for a great monument 
 
 19 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 to your memory. Isn't it better that ten million 
 dollars should be spent in good works in your 
 name than that it should go to a chit of a child to 
 be wasted by some fortune-hunter ? And then 
 I evolved the Hallowell Institute, university, 
 hospital, library, all under one roof, all under one 
 direction; and I would have been the director. 
 We should have handled ten millions of dollars! 
 I'd have made you both so rich," he cried savagely, 
 "that in two years you'd have drunk yourselves 
 into a mad-house. And you couldn't trust me! 
 You've filled this house with fakes and palm- 
 readers. And, now, every one will know just 
 what he is a senile, half-witted old man who 
 was clay in my hands, clay in my hands and 
 you've robbed me of him, you've robbed me of 
 him!" His voice, broken with anger and disap 
 pointment, rose in an hysterical wail. As though 
 to meet it a bell rang shrilly. Gaylor started and 
 stood with eyes fixed on the door of the bedroom. 
 The three men eyed each other guiltily. 
 
 The butler was the first to recover. With 
 mask-like face he hastened noiselessly across the 
 room. In his tones of usual authority, Gaylor 
 stopped him. 
 
 "Tell Mr. Hallowell," he directed, "that his 
 niece and District Attorney Winthrop will be 
 
 20 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 here any moment. Ask him if he wishes me to 
 see them, or if he will talk to them himself ?" 
 
 When the faithful servant had entered the bed 
 room Gaylor turned to Rainey. 
 
 "When do these mediums come to-day?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Rainey stared sulkily at the floor. 
 
 "I think they're here now downstairs/' he 
 answered. "Garrett generally hides them there 
 till you're out of the house." 
 
 "Indeed," commented Gaylor dryly. "After 
 Winthrop and Miss Coates have gone, I want to 
 talk with your friends." 
 
 "Now, see here, Judge," whined Rainey; 
 "don't make trouble. It isn't as bad as you 
 think. The old man's only investigating " 
 
 "Hush!" commanded the Judge. 
 
 From the bedroom, leaning on the butler's arm, 
 Stephen Hallowell came stumbling toward them 
 and, with a sigh, sank into an invalid's chair that 
 was placed for him between the fire and the 
 long library table. He was a very feeble, very 
 old man, with a white face, and thin, white hair, 
 but with a mouth and lower jaw as hard and un 
 compromising as those of a skull. His eyes, which 
 were strangely brilliant and young-looking, peered 
 suspiciously from under ragged white eyebrows. 
 
 21 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 But when they fell upon the Doctor, the eyes 
 became suddenly credulous, pleading, filled with 
 self-pity. 
 
 "I'm a very sick man, Doctor/' said Mr. 
 Hallowell. 
 
 Judge Gaylor bustled forward cheerily. "Non 
 sense, Stephen, nonsense," he cried; "you look a 
 different man this morning. Doesn't he, Doctor ?" 
 
 "Sure he does!" assented Rainey. "Little 
 sleep was all he needed." Mr. Hallowell shook 
 his head petulantly. "Not at all!" he protested. 
 "That was a very serious attack. This morning 
 my head hurts hurts me to think 
 
 "Perhaps," said Gaylor, "you'd prefer that I 
 talked to your niece." 
 
 "No!" exclaimed the invalid excitedly. "I 
 want to see her myself. I want to tell her, once 
 and for all He checked himself and frowned 
 at the Doctor. "You needn't wait," he said. 
 "And Doctor," he added meaningly, "after these 
 people go, you come back." 
 
 With a conscious glance at the Judge, Rainey 
 nodded and left them. 
 
 "No," continued the old man; "I want to talk 
 to my niece myself. But I don't want to talk to 
 Winthrop. He's too clever a young man, Win- 
 throp. In the merger case, you remember had 
 
 22 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 me on the stand for three hours. Made me talk 
 too." The mind of the old man suddenly veered 
 at a tangent. "How the devil can Helen retain 
 him?" he demanded peevishly. "She can't re 
 tain him. She hasn't any money. And he's 
 District Attorney too. It's against the law. Is 
 he doing it as a speculation ? Does he want to 
 marry her?" 
 
 Judge Gaylor laughed soothingly. 
 
 "Heavens, no!" he said. "She's in his office, 
 that's all. When she took this craze to be inde 
 pendent of you, he gave her a position as secretary, 
 or as stenographer, or something. She's probably 
 told him her story, her side of it, and he's help 
 ing her out of charity." The Judge smiled toler 
 antly. "He does that sort of thing, I believe." 
 
 The old man struck the library table with his 
 palm. "I wish he'd mind his own business," he 
 cried. "It's my money. She has no claim to it, 
 never had any claim " 
 
 The Judge interrupted quickly. 
 
 "That's all right, Stephen; that's all right," 
 he said. "Don't excite yourself. Just get what 
 you're to say straight in your mind and stick to it. 
 Remember," he went on, as though coaching a 
 child in a task already learned, "there never was 
 a written agreement." 
 
 23 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "No!" muttered Hallowell. "Never was!" 
 
 "Repeat this to yourself," commanded the 
 Judge. "The understanding between you and 
 your brother-in-law was that if you placed his 
 patent on the market, for the first five years you 
 would share the profits equally. After the five 
 years, all rights in the patent became yours. It 
 was unfortunate," commented the Judge dryly, 
 "that your brother-in-law and your sister died 
 before the five years were up, especially as the 
 patent did not begin to make money until after 
 five years. Remember until after five years." 
 
 "Until after five years," echoed Mr. Hallowell. 
 "It was over six years," he went on excitedly, 
 "before it made a cent. And, then, it was my 
 money and anything I give my niece is charity. 
 She's not entitled " 
 
 Garrett appeared at the door. "Miss Coates," 
 he announced, "and Mr. Winthrop." Judge 
 Gaylor raised a hand for silence, and as Mr. Hal 
 lowell sank back in his chair, Helen Coates, the 
 only child of Catherine Coates, his sister, and 
 the young District Attorney of New York came 
 into the library. Miss Coates was a woman of 
 between twenty-five and thirty, capable, and self- 
 reliant. She had a certain beauty of a severe type, 
 but an harassed expression about her eyes made 
 
 24 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 her appear to be always frowning. At times, in a 
 hardening of the lower part of her face, she 
 showed a likeness to her uncle. Like him, in 
 speaking, also, her manner was positive and de 
 cided. 
 
 In age the young man who accompanied her 
 was ten years her senior, but where her difficulties 
 had made her appear older than she really was, 
 the enthusiasm with which he had thrown himself 
 against those of his own life, had left him young. 
 
 The rise of Winthrop had been swift and spec 
 tacular. Almost as soon as he graduated from the 
 college in the little "up-state" town where he had 
 been educated, and his family had always lived, 
 he became the prosecuting attorney of that town, 
 and later, at Albany, represented the district in 
 the Assembly. From Albany he entered a law 
 office in New York City, and in the cause of reform 
 had fought so many good fights that on an 
 independent ticket, much to his surprise, he had 
 been lifted to the high position he now held. No 
 more in his manner than in his appearance did 
 Winthrop suggest the popular conception of his 
 role. He was not professional, not mysterious. 
 Instead, he was sane, cheerful, tolerant. It was 
 his philosophy to believe that the world was in 
 nocent until it was proved guilty. 
 
 25 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 He was a bachelor and, except for two sisters 
 who had married men of prominence in New 
 York and who moved in a world of fashion into 
 which he had not penetrated, he was alone. 
 
 When the visitors entered, Mr. Hallowell, with 
 out rising, greeted his niece cordially. 
 
 "Ah, Helen! I am glad to see you," he called, 
 and added reproachfully, "at last." 
 
 "How do you do, sir?" returned Miss Helen 
 stiffly. With marked disapproval she bowed to 
 Judge Gaylor. 
 
 "And our District Attorney," cried Mr. Hal 
 lowell. " Pardon my not rising, won't you ? I 
 haven't seen you, sir, since you tried to get the 
 Grand Jury to indict me." He chuckled delight 
 edly. "You didn't succeed," he taunted. 
 
 Winthrop shook hands with him, smiling. 
 "Don't blame me" he said. "I did my best. I'm 
 glad to see you in such good spirits, Mr. Hallowell. 
 I feared, by the Despatch " 
 
 "Lies, lies," interrupted Hallowell curtly. 
 "You know Judge Gaylor?" 
 
 As he shook hands, Winthrop answered that 
 the Judge and he were old friends; that they knew 
 each other well. 
 
 "Know each other so well!" returned the 
 Judge, "that we ought to be old enemies." 
 
 26 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 The younger man nodded appreciatively. 
 
 "That's true!" he laughed, "only I didn't 
 think you'd admit it." 
 
 With light sarcasm Mr. Hallowell inquired 
 whether Winthrop was with them in his official 
 capacity. 
 
 "Oh, don't suggest that!" begged Winthrop; 
 "you'll be having me indicted next. No, sir, 
 I am here without any excuse whatsoever. I 
 am just interfering as a friend of this young 
 lady." 
 
 "Good," commented Hallowell. "I'd be sorry 
 to have my niece array counsel against me 
 especially such distinguished counsel. Sit down, 
 Helen." 
 
 Miss Coates balanced herself on the edge of 
 a chair and spoke in cool, business-like tones. 
 "Mr. Hallowell," she began, "I came- 
 
 "Mr. Hallowell?" objected her uncle. 
 
 "Uncle Stephen," Miss Coates again began, 
 "I wish to be as brief as possible. I asked you to 
 see me to-day, because I hoped that by talking 
 things over we might avoid lawsuits and litiga 
 tion" 
 
 Mr. Hallowell nodded his approval. "Yes," 
 he said encouragingly. 
 
 " I have told Mr. Winthrop what the trouble is," 
 27 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Miss Coates went on, "and he agrees with me 
 that I have been very unjustly treated " 
 
 " By whom ? " interrupted Hallowell. 
 
 "By you," said his niece. 
 
 "Wait, Helen," commanded the old man. 
 "Have you also told Mr. Winthrop," he de 
 manded, "that I have made a will in your favor ? 
 That, were I to die to-night, you would inherit ten 
 millions of dollars ? Is that the injustice of which 
 you complain ?" 
 
 Judge Gaylor gave an exclamation of pleasure. 
 
 "Good!" he applauded. "Excellent!" 
 
 Hallowell turned indignantly to Winthrop. 
 "And did she tell you also," he demanded, 
 "that for three years I have urged her to make a 
 home in this house ? That I have offered her an 
 income as large as I would give my own daugh 
 ter, and that she has refused both offers. And 
 what's more" in his excitement his voice rose 
 hysterically "by working publicly for her living 
 she has made me appear mean and uncharitable, 
 and " 
 
 "That's just it," interrupted Miss Coates. "It 
 isn't a question of charity." 
 
 "Will you allow me?" said Winthrop sooth 
 ingly. "Your niece contends, sir," he explained, 
 "that this money you offered her is not yours to 
 
 28 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 offer. She claims it belongs to her. That it's 
 what should have been her father's share of the 
 profits on the Coates-Hallowell coupling-pin. But, 
 as you have willed your niece so much money, al 
 though half of it is hers already, I advised her not 
 to fight. Going to law is an expensive business. 
 But she has found out and that's what brings 
 me uptown this morning that you intend to 
 make a new will, and leave all her money and 
 your own to establish the Hallowell Institute. 
 Now," Winthrop continued, with a propitiating 
 smile, "Miss Coates also would like to be a phil 
 anthropist, in her own way, with her own money. 
 And she wishes to warn you that, unless you de 
 liver up what is due her, she will proceed against 
 
 you." 
 
 Judge Gaylor was the first to answer. 
 
 "Mr. Winthrop," he said impressively, "I give 
 you my word, there is not one dollar due Miss 
 Coates, except what Mr. Hallowell pleases to 
 give her " 
 
 Miss Coates contradicted him sharply. "That 
 is not so," she said. She turned to her uncle. 
 "You and my father," she declared, "agreed in 
 writing you would share the profits always." Mr. 
 Hallowell looked from his niece to his lawyer. 
 The lawyer, eying him apprehensively, nodded. 
 
 29 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 With the patient voice of one who tried to reason 
 with an unreasonable child, Mr. Hallowell be 
 gan. "Helen," he said, "I have told you many 
 times there never was such an agreement. There 
 was a verbal " 
 
 "And I repeat, I saw it," said Miss Coates. 
 
 "When?" asked Hallowell. 
 
 "I saw it first when I was fifteen," answered 
 the young woman steadily, "and two years later, 
 before mother died, she showed it to me again. 
 It was with father's papers." 
 
 "Miss Coates," asked the Judge, "where is 
 this agreement now?" 
 
 For a moment Miss Coates hesitated. Her dis 
 like for Gaylor was so evident that, to make it 
 less apparent, she lowered her eyes. "My uncle 
 should be able to tell you," she said evenly. " He 
 was my father's executor. But, when he re 
 turned my father's papers" she paused and 
 then, although her voice fell to almost a whisper, 
 continued defiantly, "the agreement was not with 
 them." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. To assure him 
 self the others had heard as he did, Mr. Hallowell 
 glanced quickly from Winthrop to Gaylor. He half 
 rose from his chair and leaned across the table. 
 
 "What!" he demanded. 
 30 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 His niece looked at him steadily. 
 
 "You heard what I said/' she answered. 
 
 The old man leaned farther forward. 
 
 "So!" he cried; "so! I am not only doing 
 you an injustice, but I am a thief! Mr. Win- 
 throp," he cried appealingly, "do you appreciate 
 the seriousness of this ? " 
 
 Winthrop nodded cheerfully. "It's certainly 
 pretty serious," he assented. 
 
 "It is so serious," cried Mr. Hallowell, "that I 
 welcome you into this matter. Now, we will set 
 tle it once and forever." He turned to his niece. 
 "I have tried to be generous," he cried; "I have 
 tried to be kind, and you insult me in my own 
 house." He pressed the button that summoned 
 the butler from the floor below. "Gentlemen, 
 this interview is at an end. From now on this 
 matter is in the hands of my lawyer. We will 
 settle this in the courts." 
 
 With an exclamation of pleasure that was an 
 acceptance of his challenge, Miss Coates rose. 
 
 "That is satisfactory to me," she said. Win 
 throp turned to Mr. Hallowell. 
 
 "Could I have a few minutes' talk with Judge 
 Gaylor now?" he asked. "Not as anybody's 
 counsel," he explained; "just as an old 'enemy' 
 of his?" 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Well, not here," protested the old man queru 
 lously. "I'm I'm expecting some friends here. 
 Judge, take Mr. Winthrop to the drawing-room 
 downstairs." He turned to Garrett, who had 
 appeared in answer to his summons, and told him 
 to bring Dr. Rainey to the library. The butler left 
 the room and, as Gaylor and Winthrop followed, 
 the latter asked Miss Coates if he might expect to 
 see her at the "Office." She told him that she 
 was now on her way there. Without acknowl 
 edging the presence of her uncle, she had started 
 to follow the others, when Mr. Hallowell stopped 
 her. 
 
 After they were alone, for a moment he sat 
 staring at her, his eyes filled with dislike and with 
 a suggestion of childish spite. " I might as well 
 tell you," he began, "that after what you said 
 this morning, I will never give you a single dollar 
 of my money." 
 
 The tone in which his niece replied to him was 
 no more conciliatory than his own. "You can 
 not give it to me," she answered, " because it is not 
 yours to give." As though to add impressiveness 
 to what she was about to say, or to prevent his 
 interrupting her, she raised her hand. So inter 
 ested in each other were the old man and the girl 
 that neither noticed the appearance in the door 
 
 3 2 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 of Dr. Rainey and the butler, who halted, hesitat 
 ing, waiting permission to enter. 
 
 "That money belongs to me," said Miss Coates 
 slowly, "and as sure as my mother is in Heaven 
 and her spirit is guiding me, that money will 
 be given me." 
 
 In the pause that followed, a swift and singu 
 lar change came over the face of Mr. Hallowell. 
 He stared at his niece as though fascinated. 
 His lower lip dropped in awe. The look of hos 
 tility gave way to one of intense interest. His 
 voice was hardly louder than a whisper. 
 
 "What do you mean ?" he demanded. 
 
 The girl looked at him, uncomprehending. 
 "What do I mean?" she repeated. 
 
 "When you said," he stammered eagerly, "that 
 the spirit of your mother was guiding you, what 
 did you mean ? " 
 
 In the doorway, Rainey and the butler started. 
 Each threw at the other a quick glance of con 
 cern. 
 
 "Why," exclaimed the girl impatiently, "her 
 influence, her example, what she taught me." 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed the old man. He leaned 
 back with an air almost of disappointment. 
 
 "When she was alive?" he said. 
 
 " Of course," answered the girl. 
 33 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Of course," repeated the uncle. "I thought 
 you meant " He looked suspiciously at her 
 and shook his head. "Never mind," he added. 
 "Well," he went on cynically, striving to cover 
 up the embarrassment of the moment, "your 
 mother's spirit will probably feel as deep an in 
 terest in her brother as in her daughter. We 
 shall see, we shall see which of us two she is going 
 to help." He turned to Garrett and Rainey in 
 the hall. "Take my niece to the door, Garrett," 
 he directed. 
 
 As soon as Miss Coates had disappeared, 
 Hallowell turned to Rainey, his face lit with 
 pleased and childish anticipation. 
 
 "Well," he whispered eagerly, "is she here?" 
 
 Rainey nodded and glanced in the direction 
 opposite to the one Miss Coates had taken. 
 "She's been waiting half an hour. And the Pro 
 fessor too." 
 
 " Bring them at once/' commanded Mr. Hallo- 
 well excitedly. "And then shut the door and 
 and tell the Judge I can't see him tell him I'm 
 too tired to see him. Understand ?" 
 
 Rainey peered cautiously over the railing of 
 the stairs to the first floor, and then beckoned 
 to some one who apparently was waiting at the 
 end of the hall. 
 
 34 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Miss Vera, sir/' he announced, "and Pro 
 fessor Vance." 
 
 Although but lately established in New York, 
 the persons Dr. Rainey introduced had already 
 made themselves comparatively well known. For 
 the last six weeks as "headliners" at one of the 
 vaudeville theatres, and as entertainers at private 
 houses, under the firm name of "The Vances," 
 they had been giving an exhibition of code and 
 cipher signalling. They called it mind-reading. 
 During the day, at the house of Vance and his 
 wife, the girl, as "Vera, the Medium," furnished 
 to all comers memories of the past or news of 
 the future. In their profession, in all of its 
 branches, the man and the girl were past masters. 
 They knew it from the A, B, C of the dream 
 book to the post-graduate work of projecting from 
 a cabinet the spirits of the dead. As the occasion 
 offered and paid best, they were mind-readers, 
 clairvoyants, materializing mediums, test mediums. 
 From them, a pack of cards, a crystal globe, the 
 lines of the human hand, held no secrets. They 
 found lost articles, cast horoscopes, gave advice 
 in affairs of the heart, of business and speculation, 
 uttered warnings of journeys over seas and against 
 a smooth-shaven stranger. They even stooped to 
 
 35 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 foretell earthquakes, or caused to drop fluttering 
 from the ceiling a letter straight from the Himala 
 yas. Among those who are the gypsies of the 
 cities, they were the aristocrats of their calling, and 
 to them that calling was as legitimate a business 
 as is, to the roadside gypsy, the swapping of 
 horses. The fore-parents of each had followed 
 that same calling, and to the children it was com 
 monplace and matter-of-fact. It held no adven 
 ture, no moral obloquy. 
 
 " Prof." Paul Vance was a young man of under 
 forty years. He looked like a fox. He had red 
 eyes, alert and cunning, a long, sharp-pointed 
 nose, a pointed red beard, and red eyebrows that 
 slanted upward. His hair, standing erect in a 
 pompadour, and his uplifted eyebrows gave him 
 the watchful look of the fox when he hears sud 
 denly the hound baying in pursuit. But no one 
 had ever successfully pursued Vance. No one 
 had ever driven him into a corner from which, 
 either pleasantly, or with raging indignation, he 
 was not able to free himself. Seven years before 
 he had disloyally married out of the " profession " 
 and for no other reason than that he was in love 
 with the woman he married. She had come to 
 seek advice from the spirit-world in regard to 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 taking a second husband. After several visits 
 the spirit-world had advised Vance to advise her 
 to marry Vance. 
 
 She did so, and though the man was still in 
 love with his wife, he had not found her, in his 
 work, the assistance he had hoped she might be. 
 She still was a "believer"; in the technical vernac 
 ular of her husband "a dope." Not even the 
 intimate knowledge she had gained behind the 
 scenes could persuade her that Paul, her hus 
 band, was not in constant communication with 
 the spirit-world, or that, if he wished, he could 
 not read the thoughts that moved slowly through 
 her pretty head. 
 
 At the time of his marriage, the girl Vera, then 
 a child of fourteen, had written to Vance for help. 
 She was ill, without money, and asked for work. 
 To him she was known as the last of a long line 
 of people who had always been professional 
 mediums and spiritualists, and, out of charity 
 and from a sense of noblesse oblige to one of the 
 elect of the profession, Vance had made her his 
 assistant. He had never regretted having done 
 so. The bread cast upon the waters was returned 
 a thousandfold. From the first, the girl brought 
 in money. And his wife, the older of the two, 
 had welcomed her as a companion. After a 
 
 37 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 fashion the Vances had adopted her. In the ad 
 vertisements she was described as their "ward." 
 
 Vera now was twenty-one, tall, wonderfully 
 graceful, and of the most enchanting loveliness. 
 Her education had been cosmopolitan. In the 
 largest cities of America she had met persons of 
 every class young women, old women, mothers 
 with married sons and daughters; women of so 
 ciety as it is exploited in the Sunday supplements; 
 school-girls, shop-girls, factory-girls all had told 
 her their troubles; and men of every condition 
 had come to scoff and had remained to express, 
 more or less offensively, their admiration. Some 
 of the younger of these, after a first visit, returned 
 the day following, and each begged the beautiful 
 priestess of the occult to fly with him, to live with 
 him, to marry him. When this happened Vera 
 would touch a button, and "Mannie" Day, who 
 admitted visitors, and later, in the hall, searched 
 their hats and umbrellas for initials, came on the 
 run and threw the infatuated one out upon a cold 
 and unfeeling sidewalk. 
 
 So Vera had seen both the seamy side of life 
 and, in the drawing-rooms where Vance and she 
 exhibited their mind-reading tricks, had been 
 made much of by great ladies and, for an hour as 
 brief as Cinderella's, had looked upon a world of 
 
 38 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 kind and well-bred people. Since she was four 
 teen, for seven years, this had been her life a 
 life as open to the public as the life of an actress, 
 as easy of access as that of the stenographer in 
 the hotel lobby. As a result, the girl had encased 
 herself in a defensive armor of hardness and dis 
 trust, a protection which was rendered futile by 
 the loveliness of her face, by the softness of her 
 voice, by the deep, brooding eyes, and the fine 
 forehead on which, like a crown, rested the black 
 waves of her hair. 
 
 In her work Vera accepted, without question, 
 the parts to which Vance assigned her. When 
 in their mummeries they were successful, she 
 neither enjoyed the credulity of those they had 
 tricked nor was sobered with remorse. In the 
 world Vance found a certain number of people 
 with money who demanded to be fooled. It was 
 his business and hers to meet that demand. If 
 ever the conscience of either stirred restlessly, 
 Vance soothed it by the easy answer that if they 
 did not take the money some one else would. It 
 was all in the day's work. It was her profession. 
 
 As she entered the library of Mr. Hallowell, 
 which, with Vance, she already had visited several 
 times, she looked like a child masquerading in 
 her mother's finery. She suggested an ingenue 
 
 39 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 who had been suddenly sent on in the role of the 
 Russian adventuress. Her slight girl's figure was 
 draped in black lace. Her face Was shaded by a 
 large picture-hat, heavy with drooping ostrich 
 feathers; around her shoulders was a necklace of 
 jade, and on her wrists many bracelets of silver 
 gilt. When she moved they rattled. As the girl 
 advanced, smiling, to greet Mr. Hallowell, she 
 suddenly stopped, shivered slightly, and threw her 
 right arm across her eyes. Her left arm she 
 stretched out over the table. 
 
 "Give me your hand!'* she commanded. Du 
 biously, with a watchful glance at Vance, Mr. 
 Hallowell leaned forward and took her hand. 
 
 "You have been ill," cried the girl; "very ill 
 I see you I see you in a kind of faint very 
 lately." Her voice rose excitedly. "Yes, last 
 night." 
 
 Mr. Hallowell protested with indignation. 
 "You read that in the morning paper," he said. 
 
 Vera lowered her arm from her eyes and turned 
 them reproachfully on him. 
 
 " I don't read the Despatch" she answered. 
 
 Mr. Hallowell drew back suspiciously. "I 
 didn't say it was the Despatch" he returned. 
 
 Vance quickly interposed. "You don't have 
 to say it," he explained with glibness; "you 
 
 40 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 thought it. And Vera read your thoughts. You 
 were thinking of the Despatch, weren't you ? Well, 
 there you are! It's wonderful!" 
 
 "Wonderful? Nonsense!" mocked Mr. Hal- 
 lowell. "She did read it in the paper or Rainey 
 told her." 
 
 The girl shrugged her shoulders patiently. 
 " If you would rather find out you were ill from 
 the newspapers than from the spirit-world," she 
 inquired, "why do you ask me here ?" 
 
 "I ask you here, young woman," exclaimed Hal- 
 lowell, sinking back in his chair, "because 1 hoped 
 you would tell me something I can't learn from 
 the newspapers. But you haven't been able to do 
 it yet. My dear young lady," exclaimed the old 
 man wistfully, "I want to believe, but I must be 
 convinced. No tricks with me! I can explain 
 how you might have found out everything you 
 have told me. Give me a sign!" He beat the 
 flat of his hand upon the table. "Show me some 
 thing I can't explain!" 
 
 "Mr. Hallowell is quite right, Vera," said 
 Vance. "He is entering what is to him a new 
 world, full of mysteries, and that caution which 
 in this world has made him so successful " 
 
 With an exclamation, Hallowell cut short the 
 patter of the showman. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Yes, yes," he interrupted petulantly; "I tell 
 you, I want to believe. Convince me." 
 
 Considering the situation with pursed lips and 
 thoughtful eyes, Vera gazed at the old man, 
 frowning. Finally she asked, "Have you wit 
 nessed our demonstrations of mind-reading ? " 
 
 Mr. Hallowell snorted. "Certainly not," he re 
 plied; "it's a trick!" 
 
 "A trick!" cried the girl indignantly, "to read 
 a man's mind to see right through your fore 
 head, through your skull, into your brain ? Is 
 that a trick?" She turned sharply to Vance. 
 "Show him!" she commanded; "show him!" 
 She crossed rapidly to the window and stood 
 looking down into the street, with her back to 
 the room. 
 
 Vance, with his back turned to Vera, stood 
 close to the table, on the other side of which Hal 
 lowell was reclining in his arm-chair. Vance 
 picked up a pen-holder. 
 
 "Think of what I have in my hand, please," 
 he said. "What is this, Vera?" he asked. The 
 girl, gazing from the window at the traffic in the 
 avenue below her, answered with indifference, 
 "A pen-holder." 
 
 "Yes, what about it?" snapped Vance. 
 
 "Gold pen-holder," Vera answered more rap- 
 42 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 idly. "Much engraving initials S. H. Mr. Hal- 
 lowell's initials " 
 
 "There is a date too. Can you " 
 
 "December " Vera hesitated. 
 
 "Go on," commanded Vance. 
 
 "Twenty-five, one, eight, eight, six; one thou 
 sand eight hundred and eighty-six." She moved 
 her shoulders impatiently. 
 
 "Oh, tell him to think of something difficult," 
 she said. 
 
 From behind Mr. HalloweH's chair Rainey 
 signalled to Vance to take from the table a pho 
 tograph frame of silver which held the picture of 
 a woman. 
 
 Vance picked it up, holding it close to him. 
 
 "What have I here, Vera ?" he asked. 
 
 Hallowell, seeing what Vance held in his hand, 
 leaned forward. "Put that down!" he com 
 manded. But Vera had already begun to answer. 
 
 "A picture, a picture of a young woman. Ask 
 him to think of who it is and I will tell him." 
 
 At the words Mr. Hallowell hesitated, frowned, 
 and then nodded. 
 
 "It is his sister," called Vera. "Her name 
 was I seem to get a 'Catherine' yes, that's 
 it; Catherine Coates. She is no longer with us. 
 She passed into the spirit-world three years ago." 
 
 43 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 The girl turned suddenly and approached the 
 table, holding her head high, as though offended. 
 "How do you explain that trick ?" she demanded. 
 
 Mr. Hallowell moved uneasily in his chair. 
 "Oh, the picture's been on my desk each time 
 you've been here," he answered dubiously. 
 "Rainey could have told you." 
 
 "As a matter of fact, I didn't," said Rainey. 
 
 Hallowell's eyes lightened with interest. "Didn't 
 you?" he asked. He turned to Vera. "If you 
 can read my mind," he challenged "you," he 
 added, pointing at Vance, "keep out of this now 
 tell me of what I am thinking." As Vance 
 drew back, Rainey and himself exchanged a quick 
 glance of apprehension, but the girl promptly 
 closed her eyes, and at once, in a dull, measured 
 tone, began to speak. 
 
 "You were thinking you would like to ask a 
 question of some one in the spirit," she recited. 
 "But you are afraid. You do not trust me. You 
 will wait until I give you a sign; then you will ask 
 that question of some one dear to you, who has 
 passed beyond, and she will answer, and your 
 troubles will be at an end." She opened her eyes 
 and stared at Mr. Hallowell like one coming out of 
 a dream. "What did I say ?" she asked. "Was 
 I right?" 
 
 44 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Hallowell sank back in his chair, shaking his 
 head. 
 
 "Yes," he began grudgingly, "but- 
 
 With an eagerness hardly concealed, Vance 
 interrupted. 
 
 "What is the question you wish to ask?" he 
 begged. 
 
 With a frown of suspicion, Hallowell turned 
 from him to Rainey. 
 
 "I don't think I ought to let them know," he 
 questioned; "do you?" But his attention was 
 sharply diverted. 
 
 Vera, in a hushed and solemn voice, called for 
 silence. 
 
 "My control," she explained her tone was deep 
 and awestruck "is trying to communicate with 
 
 me." 
 
 Vance gave an exclamation of concern. The 
 prospect of the phenomena Vera promised seemed 
 to fill him with delightful expectations. "Be 
 very quiet," he cautioned, "do not disturb her." 
 
 Deeply impressed, Mr. Hallowell struggled 
 from his chair. Unaided, he moved to below the 
 table and leaning against it looked, with unwill 
 ing but fascinated interest, at Vera's uplifted 
 face. 
 
 "Some one in the spirit," Vera chanted, in an 
 45 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 unemotional, drugged voice, "wishes to speak co 
 Mr. Hallowell. Give me your hand." 
 
 "Quick!" directed Vance, "give her your hand. 
 Take her hand." 
 
 "Yes, he is here," Vera continued. "A woman 
 has a message for you, she is standing close be 
 side you. She is holding out her arms. And she 
 is trying, so hard, to tell you something. What 
 is it?" the girl questioned. "Oh, what is it? 
 Tell me," she begged. "Can't you tell me ?" 
 
 Hallowell eyed her greedily, waiting almost 
 without breathing for her words. The hand with 
 which he held hers crushed her rings into her 
 fingers. 
 
 " What sort ? " whispered the old man. " What 
 sort of a woman ?" 
 
 With eyes still closed, swaying slightly and with 
 abrupt shudders running down her body, the 
 girl continued in dull, fateful tones. 
 
 "She is a fair woman; about forty-five. She 
 is speaking. She calls to you, ' Brother, brother/ ' 
 Vera's voice rose excitedly. "It is the woman in 
 the picture; your sister! Catherine! I see it 
 written above her head Catherine. In letters of 
 light." She turned suddenly and fiercely. "Ask 
 her your question!" she commanded. "Ask her 
 your question, now!" 
 
 46 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 By the sudden swaying forward of Vance and 
 Rainey, in the intent look in their eyes, it was 
 evident that a crisis had approached. But Mr. 
 Hallowell, terrified and trembling, shrank back. 
 His voice broke hysterically. "No, no!" he 
 pleaded. Both anger and disappointment showed 
 in the face of Vance and Rainey; but the girl, as 
 though detached from any human concerns, con 
 tinued unmoved. "I see another figure," she 
 recited. "A young girl, but she is of this world. 
 I seem to get an H. Yes. Helen, in letters of 
 fire." 
 
 "My niece, Helen!" Hallowell whispered 
 hoarsely. 
 
 "Yes, your niece," chanted the girl. Her voice 
 rose and thrilled. "And I see much gold," she 
 cried. "Between the two women, heaps of gold. 
 Everywhere I look I see gold. And, now, the 
 other woman, your sister, is trying to speak to 
 you. Listen! She calls to you, 'Brother!' J 
 
 So centred was the interest of those in the room, 
 so compelling the sound of the girl's voice, that, 
 unnoticed, the sliding doors to the library were 
 slipped apart. Unobserved, Judge Gaylor and 
 Winthrop halted in the doorway. To the Judge 
 the meaning of the scene was instantly apparent. 
 His face flushed furiously. Winthrop, uncom- 
 
 47 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 prehending, gazed unconcerned over Gaylor' s 
 shoulder. The voice of Vera rose hysterically 
 to her climax. 
 
 "She bids me tell you," Vera cried; " 'Tell my 
 brother- 
 
 Gaylor swept toward her. 
 
 "What damned farce is this ?" he shouted. 
 
 The effect of the interruption was instant and 
 startling. Mr. Hallowell, who, in the last few 
 minutes, had believed he was listening to a voice 
 from the dead, collapsed upon the shoulder of 
 Rainey, who sprang to support him. Like a 
 somnambulist wrenched from sleep, Vera gave a 
 scream of fright, half genuine, half assumed, and 
 swayed as though about to fall. Vance caught her 
 in his arms. He turned on Gaylor, his cunning 
 red eyes flashing evilly. 
 
 "You brute!" he cried; "you might have killed 
 her." 
 
 Between her sobs, Vera, her head upon the 
 shoulder of Vance, whispered a question. As 
 quickly, under cover of muttered sympathy, Vance 
 answered: "Gaylor. The Judge." 
 
 Still slightly swaying, Vera stood upright. She 
 passed her hand vaguely before her eyes. "Where 
 am I ?" she asked feebly. "Where am I ?" 
 
 Gaylor shook his fist at the girl. 
 48 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "You know where you are!" he thundered; 
 "and you know where you're going you're going 
 to jail!" 
 
 In the hush that followed Vera drew herself to 
 her full height. She regarded Gaylor wonder- 
 ingly, haughtily, as though he were some drunken 
 intruder from the street. 
 
 "Are you speaking to me?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, to you," shouted the lawyer. "You're 
 an impostor, and a swindler, and and " 
 
 Winthrop pushed between them. 
 
 "Yes, and she's a woman," he said briskly. 
 "If you want a row, talk to the man." 
 
 To this point the scene had brought to Vera 
 no emotion save the excitement that is felt by 
 the one who is struggling to escape. The ap 
 pearance of a champion added a new interest. 
 Through no fault of her own, she had learned by 
 experience that to the one man who annoyed her 
 there always were six to spring to her protection. 
 So the glance she covertly turned upon Winthrop 
 was one less of gratitude than curiosity. 
 
 But at the first sight of him the girl started, 
 her eyes lit with recognition, her face flushed. 
 And then, although the man was in no way re 
 garding her, her eyes filled, and in mortification 
 and dismay she blushed crimson. 
 
 49 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 His anger still unsatisfied, Gaylor turned upon 
 Vance. 
 
 "And you," he cried; "you're going to jail too. 
 I'll drive " 
 
 The voice of Mr. Hallowell, shaken with pain 
 and distress, rose feebly, beseechingly. "Henry!" 
 he begged. "I can't stand it!" 
 
 " Judge Gaylor!" thundered Rainey, "I won't 
 be responsible if you keep this up." 
 
 With an exclamation of remorse, Vera ran to 
 the side of the old man. With Rainey on his 
 other hand, she raised him upright upon his 
 feet. 
 
 "Lean on me," begged the girl breathlessly. 
 "I'm very strong. Lean on me." 
 
 Mr. Hallowell shook his head. "No, child," 
 he protested, "not you." He turned to his old 
 friend. "You help me, Henry," he begged. 
 
 With the authority of the medical man, Rainey 
 waved Vance into the bedroom. "Close those 
 windows," he ordered. "You help me!" he 
 commanded of Gaylor. "Put your arm under 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Hallowell, protesting feebly and leaning 
 heavily upon the two men, stumbled into the bed 
 room, and the door was shut behind him. 
 
 For a moment the girl and the man stood in 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 silence, and then, as though suddenly conscious 
 of her presence, Winthrop turned and smiled. 
 
 The girl did not answer his smile. From under 
 the shadow of the picture-hat and the ostrich 
 feathers her eyes regarded him searchingly, watch 
 fully. 
 
 For the first time, Winthrop had the chance 
 to observe her. He saw that she was very young, 
 that her clothes cruelly disguised her, that she was 
 only a child masquerading as a brigand, that her 
 face was distractingly lovely. Having noted this, 
 the fact that she had driven several grown men to 
 abuse and vituperation struck him as being ex 
 tremely humorous; nor did he try to conceal his 
 amusement. But the watchfulness in the eyes 
 of the girl did not relax. 
 
 " I'm afraid I interfered with your seance," said 
 the District Attorney. 
 
 The girl regarded him warily, like a fencer fix 
 ing her eyes on those of her opponent. There 
 was a pause which lasted so long that had the si 
 lence continued it would have been rude. "Well," 
 the girl returned at last, timidly, "that's what the 
 city expects you to do, is it not ? " 
 
 Winthrop laughed. "How did you know who 
 I was?" he asked, and then added quickly, "Of 
 course, you're a mind-reader." 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 For the first time the girl smiled. Winthrop 
 found it a charming smile, wistful and confiding. 
 
 "I don't have to ask the spirit-world," she said, 
 "to tell me who is District Attorney of New York." 
 
 "Yes," said the District Attorney; "yes, I 
 suppose you have to be pretty well acquainted 
 with some of the laws those about mediums ? " 
 
 " If you knew as much about other laws," be 
 gan Vera, "as I do about the law " She broke 
 off and again smiled upon him. 
 
 "Then you probably know," said Winthrop, 
 " that what our excited friend said to you just now 
 is legally quite true?" 
 
 The smile passed from the face of the girl. 
 She looked at the young man with fine disdain, 
 as a great lady might reprove with a glance the 
 man who snapped a camera at her. 
 
 "Yes?" she asked. "Well, what are you go 
 ing to do about it arrest me ? " Mocking him, 
 in a burlesque of melodrama, she held out her 
 arms. "Don't put the handcuffs on me," she 
 begged. 
 
 Winthrop found her impudence amusing; and, 
 with the charm of her novelty, he was conscious 
 of a growing conviction that, somewhere, they 
 had met before; that already at a crisis she had 
 come into his life. 
 
 52 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I won't arrest you," he said with a puzzled 
 smile, "on one condition." 
 
 "Ah!" mocked Vera; "he is generous." 
 
 "And the condition is," Winthrop went on 
 seriously, "that you tell me where we met be- 
 fore?" 
 
 The girl's expression became instantly mask- 
 like. To learn if he suspected where it was that 
 they had met, she searched his face quickly. She 
 was reassured that of the event he had no real 
 recollection. 
 
 "That's rather difficult, isn't it," she continued 
 lightly, "when you consider I've been giving ex 
 hibitions of mind-readings for the last six weeks 
 on Broadway, and in the homes of people you 
 probably know?" 
 
 "No," Winthrop exclaimed eagerly, "it wasn't 
 in a theatre, and it wasn't in a private house. It 
 was " he shook his head helplessly, and looked 
 at her for assistance. "You don't know, do 
 you?" 
 
 The girl regarded him steadily. "How should 
 I ?" she said. And then, as though decided upon 
 a course of action of the wisdom of which she 
 was uncertain, she laughed uneasily. 
 
 "But the spirits would know," she said. "I 
 might ask them." 
 
 S3 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Do!" cried Winthrop, delightedly. "How 
 much would that be ?" 
 
 As though to reprove his flippancy, the girl 
 frowned. With a nervous tremor, which this 
 time seeemd genuine enough, she threw back her 
 head, closed her eyes, and laid her arm across her 
 forehead. 
 
 Winthrop, unobserved, watched her with a 
 smile, partly of amusement, partly on account of 
 her beauty, of admiration. 
 
 "I see a court-room," said the girl. "It is 
 very mean and bare. It is somewhere up the 
 State; in a small town. Outside, there are trees, 
 and the sun is shining, and people are walking 
 in a public park. Inside, in the prisoner's dock, 
 there is a girl. She has been arrested for theft. 
 She has pleaded guilty! And I see that she 
 has been very ill that she is faint from shame 
 and fear and lack of food. And there is a 
 young lawyer. He is defending her; he is asking 
 the judge to be merciful, because this is her first 
 offence, because she stole the cloak to get money 
 to take her where she had been promised work. 
 Because this is his first case. 
 
 Winthrop gave a gasp of disbelief. 
 
 "You don't mean to tell me " he cried. 
 
 "Hush!" commanded the girl. "And he per- 
 54 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 suades the judge to let her go," she continued 
 quickly, her voice shaking, "and he and the girl 
 walk out of the court-house together. And he 
 talks to her kindly, and gives her money to pay her 
 way to the people who have promised her work." 
 
 Vera dropped her arm, and stepping back, 
 faced Winthrop. Through her tears her eyes 
 were flashing proudly, gratefully; the feeling that 
 shook her made her voice vibrate. The girl 
 seemed proud of her tears, proud of her debt of 
 gratitude. 
 
 "And I've never forgotten you," she said, her 
 vioce eager and trembling, " and what you did for 
 me. And I've watched you come to this city, and 
 fight it, and fight it, until you made them put 
 you where you are." She stopped to control her 
 voice, and smiled at him. "And that's why I 
 knew you were District Attorney," she said; 
 "and please " She fumbled in the mesh purse 
 at her waist and taking a bill from it, threw it 
 upon the table. "And please, there's the money 
 I owe you, and and I thank you and good- 
 by." She turned and almost ran from him 
 toward the door to the hall. 
 
 "Stop!" cried Winthrop. 
 
 Poised for flight, the girl halted, and looked 
 back. 
 
 55 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "When can I see you again?" said the man. 
 The tone made it less a question than a command. 
 
 In a manner as determined as his own, the girl 
 shook her head. 
 
 "No!" she said. 
 
 "I must!" returned the man. 
 
 Again the girl shook her head, definitely, finally. 
 
 " It won't help you in your work," she pleaded, 
 
 "to come to see me." 
 
 "I must!" repeated Winthrop simply. 
 
 The eyes of the girl met his, appealingly, de 
 fiantly. 
 
 " You'll be sorry," said the girl. 
 
 Winthrop laughed an eager, boyish laugh. 
 When he spoke the tenseness in his voice had 
 gone. His tone was confident, bantering. 
 
 "Then I will not come to see you," he said. 
 
 Uncertain, puzzled, Vera looked at him in dis 
 tress. She thought he was mocking her. 
 
 "No?" she questioned. 
 
 "I'll come to see Vera, the medium," he ex 
 plained. 
 
 Vera frowned, and then, in happy embar 
 rassment, smiled wistfully. 
 
 "Oh, well," she stammered; "of course, if 
 you're coming to consult me professionally my 
 hours are from four to six." 
 
 56 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Pll be there," cried the District Attorney. 
 
 Vera leaned forward eagerly. 
 
 "What day will you come ?" she demanded. 
 
 "What day!" exclaimed the young man in 
 dignantly. "Why, this day!" 
 
 Vera gave a guilty, frightened laugh. 
 
 " Oh, will you ? " she exclaimed delightedly. 
 She clasped her fingers in a gesture of dismay. 
 "Oh, I hope you won't be sorry!" she cried. 
 
 For some moments the District Attorney of 
 New York stood looking at the door through 
 which she had disappeared. 
 
 57 
 
PART II 
 
 THE home of the Vances was in Thirty-fifth 
 Street, nearly opposite the Garrick Theatre. 
 It was one of a row of old-fashioned brick houses 
 with high steps. As the seeker after truth en 
 tered the front hall, he saw before him the stairs 
 to the second story; on his right, the folding-doors 
 of the "front parlor," and at the far end of the 
 hall, a single door that led to what was, in the old 
 days, before this row of houses had been converted 
 into offices, the family dining-room. To Vera 
 the Vances had given the use of this room as a 
 "reception parlor." The visitor first entered the 
 room on his right, from it passed through an 
 other pair of folding-doors to the reception parlor, 
 and then, when his audience was at an end, de 
 parted by the single door to the hall, and so, to 
 the street. 
 
 The reception parlor bore but little likeness to 
 a cave of mystery. There were no shaded lights, 
 no stuffed alligator, no Indian draperies, no black 
 cat. On a table, in the centre, under a heavy and 
 
 59 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 hideous chandelier with bronze gas jets, was a 
 green velvet cushion. On this nestled an innocent 
 ball of crystal. Beside it lay the ivory knitting 
 needle with which Vera pointed out, in the hand 
 of the visitor, those lines that showed he would 
 be twice married, was of an ambitious tempera 
 ment, and would make a success upon the stage. 
 In a corner stood a wooden cabinet that resembled 
 a sentry box on wheels. It was from this, on 
 certain evenings, before a select circle of spiritual 
 ists, that Vera projected the ghosts of the de 
 parted. Hanging inside the cabinet was a silver- 
 gilt crown and a cloak of black velvet, lined with 
 purple silk and covered in gold thread with signs 
 of the zodiac. 
 
 Save that these stage properties illustrated the 
 taste of Mabel Vance, the room was of no in 
 terest. It held a rubber plant, a red velvet rock 
 ing-chair, across the back of which Mrs. Vance 
 had draped a Neapolitan scarf; an upright piano, 
 upon which Emmanuel Day, or, as he was known 
 to the cross-roads of Broadway and Forty-second 
 Street, "Mannie" Day, provoked the most mar 
 vellous rag-time; an enlarged photograph in 
 crayon, of Professor Vance, in a frock coat and 
 lawn tie, a china bull-dog coquettishly decorated 
 with a blue bow, and, on the mantel-piece, two tall 
 
 60 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 beer steins and a hand telephone. From the long 
 windows one obtained a view of the iron shutters 
 of the new department store in Thirty-fourth 
 Street, and of a garden, just large enough to 
 contain a sumach tree, a refrigerator, and the 
 packing-case in which the piano had arrived. 
 
 After leaving Winthrop, without waiting for 
 Vance, Vera had returned directly to the house in 
 Thirty-fifth Street, and locked herself in her room. 
 And although "Mannie" Day had already ushered 
 two visitors into the front room, Vera had not 
 yet come downstairs. In consequence, Mabel 
 Vance was in possession of the reception parlor. 
 
 Mrs. Vance was plump, pink-and-blonde, cred 
 ulous and vulgar, but at all times of the ut 
 most good-humor. Her admiration for Vera was 
 equalled only by her awe of her. On this par 
 ticular afternoon, although it already was after 
 five o'clock, Mrs. Vance still wore a short dressing 
 sack, open at the throat, and heavy with some 
 what soiled lace. But her blonde hair was freshly 
 "marcelled," and her nails pink and shining. In 
 the absence of Vera, she was making a surrepti 
 tious and guilty use of the telephone. From the 
 fact that in her left hand she held the Morning 
 Telegraph open at the "previous performances" 
 of the horses, and that the page had been cruelly 
 
 61 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 lacerated by a hat pin, it was fair to suppose that 
 whoever was at the other end of the wire, was 
 tempting her with the closing odds at the races. 
 
 In her speculations, she was interrupted by 
 "Mannie" Day, who entered softly through the 
 door from the hall. 
 
 "Mannie" Day was a youth of twenty-four. 
 It was his heart's desire to be a " Broad wayard." 
 He wanted to know all of those, and to be known 
 only by those, who moved between the giant pillars 
 that New York threw into the sky to mark her 
 progress North. 
 
 He knew the soiled White Way as the oldest in 
 habitant knows the single street of the Tillage. 
 He knew it from the Rathskellers underground, to 
 the roof gardens in the sky; in his firmament 
 the stars were the electric advertisements over 
 Long Acre Square, his mother earth was asphalt, 
 the breath of his nostrils gasolene, the Telegraph 
 was his Bible. His grief was that no one in the 
 Tenderloin would take him seriously; would be 
 lieve him wicked, wise, predatory. They might 
 love him, they might laugh with him, they might 
 clamor for his company; in no flat that could 
 boast a piano, was he not, on his entrance, greeted 
 with a shout; but the real Knights of the High 
 way treated him always as the questioning, wide- 
 
 62 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 eyed child. In spite of his after-midnight pallor, in 
 spite of his honorable scars of dissipation, it was 
 his misfortune to be cursed with a smile that was 
 a perpetual plea of "not guilty." 
 
 "What can you expect?" an outspoken friend, 
 who made a living as a wireless wire-tapper, had 
 once pointed out to him. "That smile of yours 
 could open a safe. It could make a show girl give 
 up money! It's an alibi for everything from over- 
 speeding to murder." 
 
 Mannie, as he listened, flushed with mortifi 
 cation. From that moment he determined that 
 his life should be devoted to giving the lie to that 
 smile, to that outward and visible sign of kind 
 ness, good-will, and innate innocence. As yet, 
 he had not succeeded. 
 
 He interrupted Mabel at the telephone to in 
 quire the whereabouts of Vera. "There's two 
 girls in there, now," he said; "waiting to have 
 their fortunes doped." 
 
 "Let 'em wait!" exclaimed Mabel. "Vera's 
 upstairs dressing." In her eyes was the baleful 
 glare of the plunger. "What was that you give 
 me in the third race?" 
 
 At the first touch of the ruling passion, what 
 interest Mannie may have felt for the impatient 
 visitors vanished. 
 
 63 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Not in the third," he corrected briskly. 
 " Keene entry win the third." 
 
 Mabel appealed breathlessly to the telephone. 
 "What price the Keene entry in the third?" 
 She turned to Mannie with reproachful eyes. 
 "Even money!" she complained. 
 
 "That's what I told you," retorted Mannie. 
 He lowered his voice, and gazed apprehensively 
 toward the front parlor. " If you want a really 
 good thing," he whispered hoarsely, "ask Joe 
 what Pompadour is in the fifth!" 
 
 Mabel laughed scornfully, disappointedly. 
 
 "Pompadour!" she mocked. 
 
 "That's right!" cried the expert. "That's the 
 one daily hint from Paris to-day. Joe will give you 
 thirty to one." 
 
 Upon the defenceless woman he turned the full 
 force of his accursed smile. "Put five on for me, 
 Mabel?" he begged. 
 
 With unexpected determination of character 
 Mabel declared sharply that she would do noth 
 ing of the sort. 
 
 "Two, then?" entreated the boy. 
 
 "Where," demanded Mabel unfeelingly, "is 
 the twenty you owe me now ? " 
 
 The abruptness of this unsportsmanlike blow 
 below the belt caused Mannie to wince. 
 
 64 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "How do 7 know where it is?" he protested. 
 "As long as you haven't got it, why do you care 
 where it is ? " He heard the door from the hall 
 open and, turning, saw Vera. He appealed to her. 
 "Vera," he cried, "you'll loan me two dollars? 
 I stand to win sixty. I'll give you thirty." 
 
 Vera looked inquiringly at Mabel. "What is it, 
 Mabel," she asked; "a hand book?" 
 
 Mrs. Vance nodded guiltily. 
 
 "Mannie!" exclaimed Vera gently but re 
 proachfully, "I told you I wouldn't loan you 
 any more money till you paid Mabel what you've 
 borrowed." 
 
 "How can I pay Mabel what I borrowed," 
 demanded Mannie, "if I can't borrow the money 
 from you to pay her ? Only two dollars, Vera ! " 
 
 Vera nodded to Mabel. 
 
 Mabel, at the phone, called, "Two dollars on 
 Pompadour to win for Mannie Day," and 
 rang off. 
 
 "That makes thirty for you," exclaimed Man 
 nie enthusiastically, "and twenty I owe to Mabel, 
 and that leaves me ten." 
 
 Mrs. Vance, no longer occupied in the whirl 
 pool of speculation, for the first time observed 
 that Vera had changed her matronly robe of black 
 lace for a short white skirt and a white shirt 
 
 65 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 waist. She noted also that there was a change in 
 Vera's face and manner. She gave an impres 
 sion of nervous eagerness, of unrest. Her smile 
 seemed more appealing, wistful, girlish. She 
 looked like a child of fourteen. 
 
 But Mabel was concerned more especially with 
 the robe of virgin white. 
 
 For the month, which was July, the costume 
 was appropriate, but, in the opinion of Mabel, 
 in no way suited to the priestess of the occult 
 and the mysterious. 
 
 "Why, Vera!" exclaimed Mrs. Vance, "what 
 ever have you got on ? Ain't you going to receive 
 visitors ? There's ten dollars waiting in there 
 
 now." 
 
 In sudden apprehension, Vera looked down at 
 her spotless garments. 
 
 "Don't I look nice ?" she begged. 
 
 "Of course you look nice, dearie," Mabel 
 assured her, "but you don't look like no fortune 
 teller." 
 
 "If you want to know what you look like," said 
 Mannie sternly, "you look like one of the waiter 
 girls at Childs's that's what you look like." 
 
 "And your crown!" exclaimed Mabel, "and 
 your kimono. Ain't you going to wear your 
 kimono ? " 
 
 66 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 She hastened to the cabinet and produced the 
 cloak of black velvet and spangles, and the silver- 
 gilt crown. 
 
 "No, I am not!" declared Vera. She wore the 
 frightened look of a mutinous child. "I I look 
 so foolish in them!" 
 
 Such heresy caused Mannie to gasp aloud: 
 
 "You look grand in them," he protested; 
 "don't she, Mabel?" 
 
 "Sure she does," assented that lady. 
 
 "And your junk?" demanded Mannie, re 
 ferring to the jade necklace and the gold-plated 
 bracelets. His eyes opened in sympathy. "You 
 haven't pawned them, have you?" 
 
 "Pawned them?" laughed Vera; "I couldn't 
 get anything on them!" As the only masculine 
 point of view available, she appealed to Mannie 
 wistfully. "Don't you like me better this way, 
 Mannie ?" she begged. 
 
 But that critic protested violently. 
 
 "Not a bit like it," he cried. "Now, in the 
 gold tiara and the spangled opera cloak," he 
 differentiated, "you look like a picture postal 
 card! You got Lotta Faust's blue skirt back to 
 Levey's. But not in the white goods !" He shook 
 his head sadly, firmly. "You look, now, like 
 you was made up for a May-day picnic in the 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Bronx, and they'd picked on you to be Queen of 
 the May." 
 
 Mabel carried the much-admired opera cloak 
 to Vera, and held it out, tempting her. 
 
 " You'll wear it, just to please me and Mannie, 
 won't you, dearie?" she begged. Vera retreated 
 before it as though it held the germs of contagion. 
 
 "I will not," she rebelled. "I hate it! When 
 I have that on, I feel mean. I feel as mean as 
 though I were picking pennies out of a blind man's 
 hat." Mannie roared with delight. 
 
 "Gee!" he shouted; "but that's a hot one." 
 
 "Besides," said Vera consciously, "I'm I'm 
 expecting some one." 
 
 The manner more than the words thrilled Mabel 
 with the most joyful expectations. 
 
 She exclaimed excitedly. "A gentleman friend, 
 Vera?" she asked. 
 
 That Vera shunned all young men had been 
 to Mabel a source of wonder and of pride. Even 
 when the young men were the friends of her 
 husband and of herself, the preoccupied manner 
 with which Vera received them did not provoke 
 in Mabel any resentment. It rather increased her 
 approbation. Although horrified at the reckless 
 ness of the girl, she had approved even when Vera 
 rejected an offer of marriage from a wine agent. 
 
 68 
 
I will not," she rebelled. "I hate it!" 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Secretly, for a proper alliance for her, Mabel 
 read the society columns in search of eligible, rich 
 young men. Finding that they invariably married 
 eligible, rich young women, she had lately deter 
 mined that Vera's destiny must be an English 
 duke. 
 
 Still if, as she hoped, Vera had chosen for her 
 self, Mabel felt assured that the man would prove 
 worthy, and a good match. A good match meant 
 one who owned not only a runabout, but a tour 
 ing car. 
 
 "It's a man from home," said Vera. 
 
 "Home?" queried Mannie. 
 
 "From up the State," explained Vera; "from 
 Geneva. It's Mr. Winthrop." 
 
 With an exclamation of alarm, Mannie started 
 upright. "Winthrop!" he cried; then with a 
 laugh of relief he sank back. "Gee! you give 
 me a scare," he cried. " I thought you meant the 
 District Attorney." 
 
 Mabel laughed sympathetically. 
 
 "I thought so too," she admitted. 
 
 "I do mean the District Attorney," said the 
 girl. 
 
 "Vera!" cried Mabel. 
 
 "Winthrop coming here?" demanded Man 
 nie. 
 
 69 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I met him at Mr. Hallowell's this morning," 
 said Vera. "Didn't Paul tell you ?" 
 
 "Paul ain't back yet," said Mannie. "I wish 
 he was!" His lower jaw dropped in dazed 
 bewilderment. "Winthrop coming here?" he 
 repeated. "And they're all coming here!" he 
 exclaimed excitedly. "Paul just phoned me. 
 They've taken Gaylor in with them, and we're all 
 working together now on some game for to-night. 
 And Winthrop's coming here!" He shook his 
 head decidedly, importantly. As the only man 
 of the family present, he felt he must meet this 
 crisis. "Paul won't stand for it!" he declared. 
 
 "Well, Paul will just have to stand for it!" re 
 torted Mrs. Vance. 
 
 With a murmur of sympathy she crossed to 
 Vera. "I'm not going to see our Vera disap 
 pointed," she announced. "She never sees no 
 company. Vera, if Mr. Winthrop comes when 
 that bunch is here, I'll show him into the front 
 parlor." 
 
 Vera sat down in front of the piano and let 
 her fingers drop upon the keys. The look of 
 eagerness and anticipation had left her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," she said, "that I want to 
 see him now." 
 
 With complete misunderstanding, Mannie de- 
 70 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 manded truculently, "Why not?" His loyalty 
 to Vera gave him courage, in her behalf, to face 
 even a District Attorney. "He doesn't think 
 he's coming here to make trouble for you, does 
 he?" 
 
 Vera shook her head and, bending over the 
 piano, struck a few detached chords. 
 
 "Oh, no," she said consciously; "just to see 
 me professionally like everybody else." 
 
 Mabel could no longer withhold her indigna 
 tion at the obtuseness of the masculine intellect. 
 
 "My gracious, Mannie!" she exclaimed, "can't 
 you understand he's coming here to make a call 
 on Vera like a gentleman not like no District 
 Attorney." 
 
 Mannie precipitately retreated from his position 
 as champion. 
 
 "Sure, I understand," he protested. 
 
 With the joy that a match-making mother takes 
 in the hunt, Mabel sank into the plush rocking- 
 chair and, rocking violently, turned upon Vera 
 an eager and excited smile. 
 
 "Think of our Vera knowing Mr. Winthrop 
 socially!" she exclaimed. "It's grand! And 
 they say his sisters are elegant ladies. Last win 
 ter I read about them at the opera, and it always 
 printed what they had on. Why didn't you tell 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 me you knowed him, Vera ? " she cried reproach 
 fully. "I tell you everything!" 
 
 "I don't know him," protested the girl. "I 
 used to see him when he lived in the same town." 
 
 Mabel, inviting further confidences, ceased rock 
 ing and nodded encouragingly. " Up in Geneva ? " 
 she prompted. 
 
 "Yes," said Vera; "I used to see him every 
 afternoon then, when he played ball on the col 
 lege nine ' 
 
 "Who?" demanded Mannie incredulously. 
 
 "Winthrop," said Vera. 
 
 "Did he?" exclaimed Mannie. His tone sug 
 gested that he might still be persuaded that there 
 was good in the man. 
 
 "What'd he play?" he demanded suspiciously. 
 
 "First," said Vera. 
 
 "Did he!" exclaimed Mannie. His tone now 
 was of open approbation. 
 
 Vera had raised her eyes and turned them 
 toward the windows. Beyond the soot-stained 
 sumach tree, the fire-escapes of the department 
 store, she saw the sun-drenched campus, the but 
 tressed chapel, the ancient, drooping elms; and on 
 a canvas bag, poised like a winged Mercury, a 
 tall straight figure in gray, dusty flannels. 
 
 "He was awfully good-looking," murmured the 
 72 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 girl, "and awfully tall. He could stop a ball as 
 high as that!' 9 She raised her arm in the air, 
 and then, suddenly conscious, flushed, and turned 
 to the piano. 
 
 "Go on, tell us," urged Mabel. "So you first 
 met him in Geneva, did you ?" 
 
 "No," corrected Vera; "saw him there. I 
 only met him once." 
 
 Mannie interrupted hilariously. 
 
 "7 only saw him once, too," he cried; "that 
 was enough for me." 
 
 Vera swiftly spun the piano stool, so that she 
 faced him. Her eyes were filled with concern. 
 
 "You, Mannie!" she demanded anxiously. 
 "What had you done?" 
 
 "Done!" exclaimed Mannie indignantly, 
 "nothing! What'd you think I'd done? Did 
 you think I was a crook ?" 
 
 Vera bowed her shoulders and shivered as 
 though the boy had cursed at her. She shook 
 her head vehemently and again swung back to 
 the piano. Stumbling awkwardly, her fingers 
 ran over the keys in a swift clatter of broken 
 chords. "No," she whispered; "no, Mannie; no." 
 
 With a laugh of delighted recollection, Mannie 
 turned to Mabel. 
 
 "He raided a poolroom I was working at," 
 73 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 he explained. "He picked me out as a sheet 
 writer, because I had my coat off, see ? I told 
 him I had it off because it was too hot for me, and 
 he says, ' Young man, if you lie to me, FH 
 make it a damn sight hotter !' ! Mannie threw 
 back his head and shouted uproariously. "He's 
 all right, Winthrop!" he declared. 
 
 Mabel, having already married Winthrop to 
 Vera in Grace Church, with herself in the front 
 pew, in a blue silk dress, received this unexpected 
 evidence of his rare wit with delight. In ecstasy 
 of appreciation she slapped her knees. 
 
 "Did he say that, Mannie ?" she cried. "Wasn't 
 that quick of him! Did you hear what he said 
 to Mannie, Vera ?" she demanded. 
 
 Their mirth was interrupted by the opening 
 and closing of the front door and, in the hall, 
 the murmur of men's voices. 
 
 Vance opened the door from the hall and en 
 tered, followed by Judge Gaylor and Rainey. 
 With evident pride in her appearance, Vance intro 
 duced the two men to his wife, and then sent her 
 and Mannie from the room the latter with or 
 ders to dismiss the visitors in the front parlor 
 and to admit no others. 
 
 At the door Mrs. Vance turned to Vera and 
 nodded mysteriously. 
 
 74 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "If that party calls," she said with significance, 
 "I'll put him in the front parlor." With a look 
 of dismay, Vera vehemently shook her head but, 
 to forestall any opposition, Mrs. Vance hastily 
 slammed the door behind her. 
 
 In his most courteous manner Judge Gaylor 
 offered the chair at the head of the centre table 
 to Vera, and at the same table seated himself. 
 Vance took a place on the piano stool; Rainey 
 stood with his back to the mantel-piece. 
 
 "Miss Vera," Gaylor began impressively, "I 
 desire to apologize for my language this morning. 
 As Rainey no doubt has told you, I have opposed 
 you and Professor Vance. But I I know when 
 I'm beaten. Your influence with Mr. Hallowell to 
 day is greater than mine. It is paramount. I con 
 gratulate you." He smiled ingratiatingly. "And 
 now," he added, "we are all working in unison." 
 
 "You've given up your idea of sending me to 
 jail," said Vera. 
 
 " Vera ! " exclaimed Vance reprovingly. 
 " J U( Jg e Gaylor has apologized. We're all in 
 harmony now." 
 
 "Is that door locked?" asked Gaylor. Vance 
 told him, save Mrs. Vance, Mannie, and them 
 selves, there was none in the house; and that he 
 might speak freely. 
 
 75 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Miss Vera," began the Judge, "we left Mr. 
 Hallowell very much impressed with the message 
 you gave him this morning. The message from 
 his dead sister. He wants another message from 
 her. He wants her to decide how he shall dis 
 pose of a very large sum of money his entire 
 fortune." 
 
 "His entire fortune!" exclaimed Vera. "Do 
 you imagine," she asked, "that Mr. Hallowell 
 will take advice from the spirit-world about that? 
 I don't!" 
 
 "I do," Gaylor answered stoutly; "I know / 
 would." 
 
 "You?" asked Vera incredulously. 
 
 "If I could believe my sister came from the 
 dead to tell me what to do," said the lawyer, "of 
 course, Fd do it. I'd be afraid not to. But I 
 don't believe. He does. And he believes you 
 can bring his sister herself before him. He in 
 sists that to-night you hold a seance in his house, 
 and that you materialize the spirit of his dead 
 sister. So that he can see his sister, and talk 
 with his sister. Vance says you can do that. Can 
 you ?" 
 
 From Vera's face the look of girlishness, of happy 
 anticipation, had already disappeared. 
 
 "It is my business to do that," the girl an- 
 76 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 swered. She turned to Vance and, in a matter- 
 of-fact voice, inquired, "What does his sister look 
 like that photograph we used this morning?" 
 
 " No," Vance answered. " I've a better one, 
 Rainey gave me. Taken when she was older. 
 Has white hair and a cap and a kerchief crossed 
 so." He drew his hands across his shoulders. 
 "Rainey, show Miss Vera that picture." 
 
 "Not now," Gaylor commanded. "The im 
 portant thing now is that Miss Vera understands 
 the message Mr. Hallowell is to receive from his 
 
 sister." 
 
 The two other men nodded quickly in assent. 
 Gaylor turned to Vera. He spoke slowly, ear 
 nestly. 
 
 "Miss Vera," he said, "Mr. Halloweirs present 
 will leaves his fortune to his niece. He has made 
 another will, which he has not signed, leaving his 
 fortune to the Hallowell Institute. He will ask 
 his sister, to which of these he should leave his 
 money. You will tell him " He corrected him 
 self instantly. "She will tell him to give it where 
 it will be of the greatest good to the most people 
 to the Institute." There was a pause. "Do you 
 understand?" he asked. 
 
 "To the Institute. Not to the niece," Vera 
 answered. Gaylor nodded gravely. 
 
 77 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "What," asked Vera, "are the fewest words in 
 which that message could be delivered ? I mean 
 should she say, 'You are to endow the Hallo- 
 well Institute/ or 'Brother, you are to give ' 
 'Sign the new will'?" With satisfaction the girl 
 gave a sharp shake of her head, and nodded to 
 Vance. ' 'Destroy the old will. Sign the new 
 will.' That is the best," she said. 
 
 "That's it exactly," Gaylor exclaimed eagerly; 
 "that's excellent!" Then his face clouded. "I 
 think," he said in a troubled voice, "we should 
 warn Miss Vera, that to guard himself from any 
 trickery, Mr. Hallowell insists on subjecting her 
 to the most severe tests. He 
 
 "That will be all right," said the girl. She 
 turned to Vance and, in a lower tone but without 
 interest, asked: "What, for instance?" Vance 
 merely laughed and shrugged his shoulders. The 
 girl smiled. Nettled, and alarmed at what ap 
 peared to be their overconfidence, Gaylor objected 
 warmly. 
 
 "That's all very well," he cried, "but 'for 
 instance,' he insists that the entire time you are 
 in the cabinet, you hold a handful of flour in one 
 hand and of shot in the other" he illustrated 
 with clenched fists "which makes it impossi 
 ble," he protested, "for you to use your hands." 
 
 78 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 The face of the girl showed complete indiffer 
 ence. 
 
 "Not necessarily," she said. 
 
 "But you are to be tied hand and foot," cried 
 the Judge. "And on top of that," he burst forth 
 indignantly, pointing aggrievedly at Vance, "he 
 himself proposed this flour-and-shot test. It was 
 silly, senseless bravado!" 
 
 "Not necessarily," repeated the girl. "He 
 knew that I invented it." Rainey laughed. Gay- 
 lor gave an exclamation of enlightenment. 
 
 "If it will be of any comfort to you, Judge," 
 said Vance, "I'll tell you one thing: every test that 
 ever was put to a medium was invented by a 
 medium." 
 
 Vera rose. "If there is nothing more," she 
 said, "I will go and get the things ready for this 
 evening. 'Destroy the old will. Sign the new 
 will/ ' ' she repeated. She turned suddenly to 
 Vance, her brow drawn in consideration. "I 
 suppose by this new will," she asked, "the girl 
 gets nothing ? " 
 
 "Not at all!" exclaimed Gaylor emphatically. 
 "We don't want her to fight the will. She gets 
 a million." 
 
 "A million dollars?" demanded Vera. For an 
 instant, as though trying to grasp the possibilities 
 
 79 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 of such a sum, she stood staring ahead of her. 
 With doubt in her eyes, and shaking her head, 
 she turned to Vance. 
 
 "How can one woman spend a million dol 
 lars?" she protested. 
 
 "Well, you see, we don't intend to starve her," 
 exclaimed Gaylor eagerly, "and at the same time 
 the Institute will be benefiting all humanity. Do 
 ing good to 
 
 Vera interrupted him with a sharp, peremptory 
 movement of the hand. 
 
 "We won't go into that, please," she begged. 
 
 The Judge inclined his head. "I only meant to 
 point out," he said stiffly, "that you are giving Mr. 
 Hallowell the best advice, and doing great good." 
 
 For a moment the girl looked at him steadily. 
 On her lips was a faint smile of disdain, but 
 whether for him or for herself, the Judge could 
 not determine. 
 
 "I don't know that," the girl said finally. "I 
 don't ask." She turned to Rainey. "Have you 
 that photograph?" He gave her a photograph 
 and after, for an instant, studying it in silence, 
 she returned it to him. 
 
 "It will be quite easy," she said to Vance. She 
 walked to the door, and instinctively the two men, 
 who were seated, rose. 
 
 80 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I will see you to-night at Mr. Hallowell's," 
 she said and, with a nod, left them. 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Rainey,"you didn't tell her!" 
 
 "I know," Vance answered. "I decided we'd 
 be wiser to take advice from my wife. She un 
 derstands Vera better than I do." He opened 
 the door to the hall, and called "Mannie! tell 
 Mabel Oh, Mabel," he corrected, "come here 
 a minute." He returned to his seat on the piano 
 stool. "She can tell us," he said. 
 
 In expectation of the arrival of Winthrop, Mrs. 
 Vance had arrayed herself in a light-blue frock, 
 and, as though she had just come in from the 
 street, in such a hat as she considered would do 
 credit not only to Vera but to herself. 
 
 "Mabel," her husband began, "we're up 
 against a hard proposition. Hallowell insists that 
 Winthrop and Miss Coates must come to the 
 seance to-night." 
 
 "Winthrop and Miss Coates!" cried Mabel. 
 In astonishment she glanced from her husband to 
 Rainey and Gaylor. "Then, it's all off!" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 ''That's what I say," growled Rainey. 
 
 "We want you to tell us," continued Vance, 
 unmoved, "whether Vera should know that now, 
 or wait until to-night ? " 
 
 81 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Paul Vance!" almost shrieked his wife: "do 
 you mean to tell me you're thinking of giving a 
 materialization in front of the District Attorney! 
 You're crazy!" 
 
 "That's what I tell them," chorused Rainey. 
 
 Gaylor raised his hand for silence. 
 
 "No, Mrs. Vance," he said wearily. "We are 
 not crazy, but," he added bitterly, "we can't 
 help ourselves. You mediums have got Mr. 
 Hallowell in such a state that he'll only do what 
 his sister's spirit tells him. He says, if he's rob 
 bing his niece, his sister will tell him so; if he's to 
 give the money to the Institute, his sister will tell 
 him that. He says, if Vance is fair and above- 
 board, he shouldn't be afraid to have his niece 
 and any friends of hers present. We can't help 
 ourselves." 
 
 "I helped a little," said Vance, "by insisting 
 on having our own friends there told him the 
 spirit could not materialize unless there were 
 believers present." 
 
 "Did he stand for that?" asked Mabel. 
 
 "Glad to have them," her husband assured her. 
 "They like to think there are others as foolish 
 as they are. And I'm going to place Mr. District 
 Attorney," he broke out suddenly and fiercely, 
 "between two mediums. They'll hold his hands!" 
 
 82 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Already frightened by the possible result of 
 the plot, Rainey, with a vehemence born of fear, 
 retorted sharply: "Hold his hands! How' re you 
 going to make him hold his tongue, afterward ? " 
 
 Gaylor turned upon him savagely. 
 
 "My God, man!" he cried, "we're not trying 
 to persuade the District Attorney that he's seen a 
 ghost. If your friends can persuade Stephen 
 Hallowell that hes seen one, the District Attorney 
 can go to the devil!" 
 
 "Well, he won't!" returned Rainey; "he'll go 
 to law!" 
 
 "Let him!" cried Gaylor defiantly. "Get Hal 
 lowell to sign that will, and /'// go into court with 
 him." 
 
 His bravado was suddenly attacked from an 
 unexpected source. 
 
 "You'll go into court with him, all right," 
 declared Mrs. Vance, "all of you! And if you 
 don't want him to catch you," she cried, "you'll 
 clear out, now! He's coming here any minute." 
 
 "Who's coming here ?" demanded her husband. 
 
 "Winthrop," returned his wife; "to see Vera." 
 
 "To see Vera!" cried Vance eagerly. "What 
 about? About this morning?" 
 
 "No," protested Mabel; "to call on her. He's 
 
 an old friend " 
 
 83 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 In alarm Rainey pushed into the group of now 
 thoroughly excited people. "Don't you believe 
 it!" he cried. "If he's coming here, he's coming 
 to give her the third degree " 
 
 The door from the hall suddenly opened, was 
 as suddenly closed, and Mannie slipped into the 
 room. One hand he held up for silence; with 
 the other he pointed at the folding doors. 
 
 "Hush!" he warned them. "He's in there! 
 He says, he's come to call on Vera. She says, 
 he's come professionally, and I must bring him 
 in here. I've shut the door into the parlor, and 
 you can slip upstairs without his seeing you." 
 
 "Upstairs!" gasped Rainey; "not for me!" 
 He appealed to Gaylor in accents of real alarm. 
 "We must get away from this house," he declared. 
 "If he finds us here " With a gesture of dismay 
 he tossed his hands in the air. Gaylor nodded. 
 In silence all, save Mannie, moved into the hall, 
 and halted between the outer and inner doors of 
 the vestibule. Gaylor turned to Vance. "Are 
 you going to tell her," he asked, "that he is to be 
 there to-night?" 
 
 "He'll tell her himself, now!" 
 
 "No," corrected Rainey; "he doesn't know yet 
 there's to be a seance. Hallowell was writing the 
 note when he left." 
 
 84 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Then," instructed Gaylor, "do not let her 
 know until she arrives until it will be too late for 
 her to back out." 
 
 Vance nodded and, waiting until from the back 
 room he heard the voices of Mannie and Win- 
 throp, he opened the front door and the two men 
 ran down the steps into the street. 
 
 While the conspirators were hidden in the ves 
 tibule, Mannie had opened the folding doors, 
 and invited Winthrop to enter the reception 
 parlor. 
 
 "Miss Vera will be down in a minute," he said. 
 "If you want your hand read," he added, point 
 ing, "you sit over there." 
 
 As Winthrop approached the centre table, 
 Mannie backed against the piano. The presence 
 of the District Attorney at such short range 
 aroused in him many emotions. Alternately he 
 was torn with alarm, with admiration, with curi 
 osity. He regarded him apprehensively, with a 
 nervous and unhappy smile. 
 
 About the smile there was something that Win 
 throp found familiar, and, with one almost as 
 attractive, he answered it. 
 
 "I think we've met before, haven't we?" he 
 asked pleasantly. 
 
 Mannie nodded. "Yes, sir," he answered 
 85 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 promptly. "At Sam Hepner's old place, on West 
 Forty-fourth Street." 
 
 "Why, of course!" exclaimed the District 
 Attorney. 
 
 "Don't you don't you remember?" stam 
 mered Mannie eagerly. He was deeply concerned 
 lest the distinguished cross-examiner should think, 
 that from him of his lurid past he could withhold 
 anything. "I had my coat off and you said 
 you'd make it hot for me." 
 
 "Did I?" asked Winthrop with an effort at 
 recollection. 
 
 "No, you didn't!" Mannie hastened to reassure 
 him. "I mean, you didn't make it hot for me." 
 
 Winthrop laughed, and seated himself comfort 
 ably beside the centre table. "Well I'm glad of 
 that," he said. "So our relations are still pleas 
 ant, then?" he asked. 
 
 "Sure!" exclaimed Mannie heartily. "I mean 
 yes, sir." 
 
 Winthrop mechanically reached for his cigarette 
 case, and then, recollecting, withdrew his hand. 
 
 "And how are the ponies running?" he asked. 
 
 The interview was filling Mannie with excite 
 ment and delight. He chuckled with pleasure. 
 His fear of the great man was rapidly departing. 
 Could this, he asked himself, be the "terror to 
 
 86 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 evil-doers," the man whose cruel questions drove 
 witnesses to tears, whose "third degree" sent 
 veterans of the under-world staggering from his 
 confessional box, limp and gasping ? 
 
 "Oh, pretty well," said the boy; "seems as if 
 I couldn't keep away from them. I got a good 
 thing for to-day Pompadour in the fifth. I 
 put all the money on her I could get together," 
 he announced importantly, and then added 
 frankly, with a laugh, "two dollars!" The laugh 
 was contagious, and the District Attorney laughed 
 with him. 
 
 "Pompadour," Winthrop objected; "she's one 
 of those winter-track favorites." 
 
 "I know; but to-day," declared Mannie, "she 
 win, sure!" Carried away by his enthusiasm, 
 and by the sympathy of his audience, he rushed, 
 unheeding, to his fate. "If you'd like to put a 
 little on," he said, "I can tell you where you can 
 do it." 
 
 The District Attorney stared and laughed. 
 "You mustn't tell me where you can do it," he 
 said. 
 
 Mannie gave a terrified gasp and, for an in 
 stant, clapped his hands over his lips. "That's 
 right," he cried. "Gee, that's right! I'm such 
 a crank on all kinds of sport that I clean forgot!" 
 
 87 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 He gazed at the much-dreaded District Attor 
 ney with the awe of the new-born hero-worship 
 per. "I guess you are, too, hey?" he protested 
 admiringly. "Vera was telling me you used to 
 be a great ball tosser." 
 
 In the face of the District Attorney there came 
 a sudden interest. His eyes lightened. 
 
 "How did she " 
 
 " She used to watch you in Geneva," said Man- 
 nie; "playing with the college lads. I I," he 
 added consciously, "was a bail player myself 
 once. Used to pitch for the Interstate League." 
 He stopped abruptly. 
 
 " Interstate ? " said Winthrop encouragingly. 
 "You must have been good." 
 
 The enthusiasm had departed from the face 
 of the boy. "Yes," he said, "but " he smiled 
 shamefacedly, "but I got taking coke, and they " 
 He finished with a dramatic gesture of the hand 
 as of a man tossing away a cigarette. 
 
 " Cocaine ? " said the District Attorney. 
 
 The boy nodded and, for an instant, the two 
 men eyed each other, the boy smiling ruefully. The 
 District Attorney shook his head. "My young 
 friend," he said, "you can never beat that game !" 
 
 Mannie stared at him, his eyes filled with sur 
 prise. 
 
 88 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Don't you suppose," he said simply, "that I 
 know that better than you do ? " With a boy's 
 pride in his own incorrigibility he went on boast- 
 ingly: "Oh, yes," he said, "I used to be awful 
 bad! Cocaine and all kinds of dope, and cigar 
 ettes, and whiskey. I was nearly all in with 
 morphine, it was then till she took hold of me, 
 and stopped me." 
 
 "She?" said Winthrop. 
 
 "Vera," said Mannie. "She made me stop. 
 I had to stop. She started taking it herself." 
 
 "What!" cried Winthrop. 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Mannie hastily, "I don't 
 mean what you mean I mean she started taking 
 it to make me stop. She says to me, 'Mannie, 
 you're killing yourself, and you got to quit it; and 
 if you don't, every time you take a grain, I'll take 
 two.' And she did! I'd come home, and she'd 
 see what I'd been doing, and she'd up with her 
 sleeves, and " In horrible pantomime, the boy 
 lifted the cuff of his shirt, and pressed his right 
 thumb against the wrist of his other arm. At the 
 memory of it, he gave a shiver and, with a blow, 
 roughly struck the cuff into place. "God!" he 
 muttered. "I couldn't stand it. I begged, and 
 begged her not. I cried. I used to get down, in 
 this room, on my knees. And each time she'd 
 
 89 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 get whiter, and black under the eyes. And and 
 I had to stop. Didn't I?" 
 
 Winthrop moved his head. 
 
 "And now," cried the boy with a happy laugh, 
 "I'm all right!" He appealed to the older man 
 eagerly, wistfully. "Don't you think I'm look 
 ing better than I did the last time you saw me ? " 
 
 Again, without venturing to speak, Winthrop 
 nodded. 
 
 Mannie smiled with pride. "Everybody tells 
 me so," he said. "Well, she did it. That's 
 what she did for me. And, I can tell you," he 
 said simply, sincerely, "there ain't anything I 
 wouldn't do for her. I guess that's right, hey?" 
 he added. 
 
 The eyes of the cruel cross-examiner, veiled 
 under half-closed lids, were regarding the boy 
 with so curious an expression that under their 
 scrutiny Mannie, in embarrassment, moved un 
 easily. "I guess that's right," he repeated. 
 
 To his surprise, the District Attorney rose from 
 his comfortable position and, leaning across the 
 table, held out his hand. Mannie took it awk 
 wardly. 
 
 "That's all right," he said. 
 
 "Sure, it's all right," said the District At 
 torney. 
 
 90 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 From the hall there was the sound of light, 
 quick steps, and Mannie, happy to escape from a 
 situation he did not understand, ran to the door. 
 
 "She's coming," he said. He opened the door 
 and, as Vera entered, he slipped past her and 
 closed it behind him. 
 
 Vera walked directly to the chair at the top of 
 the centre table. She was nervous, and she was 
 conscious that that fact was evident. To avoid 
 shaking hands with her visitor, she carried her 
 own clasped in front of her, with the fingers inter 
 laced. She tried to speak in her usual suave, 
 professional tone. "How do you do?" she said. 
 
 But Winthrop would not be denied. With 
 a smile that showed his pleasure at again see 
 ing her, he advanced eagerly, with his hand 
 outstretched. "How are you?" he exclaimed. 
 "Aren't you going to shake hands with me?" he 
 demanded. "With an old friend ?" 
 
 Vera gave him her hand quickly, and then, 
 seating herself at the table, picked up the ivory 
 pointer. 
 
 "I didn't know you were coming as an old 
 friend," she murmured embarrassedly. "You 
 said you were coming to consult Vera, the me 
 dium." 
 
 "But you said that was the only way I could 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 come," protested Winthrop. "Don't you remem 
 ber, you said " 
 
 Vera interrupted him. She spoke distantly, 
 formally. "What kind of a reading do you 
 want?" she asked. "A hand reading, or a crys 
 tal reading?" 
 
 Winthrop leaned forward in his chair, frankly 
 smiling at her. He made no attempt to conceal 
 the pleasure the sight of her gave him. His man 
 ner was that of a very old and dear friend, who, 
 for the first time, had met her after a separation 
 of years. 
 
 "Don't want any kind of a reading," he de 
 clared. "I want a talking. You don't seem to 
 understand," he objected, "that I am making an 
 afternoon call." His good-humor was unassail 
 able. Looking up with a perplexed frown, Vera 
 met his eyes and saw that he was laughing at her. 
 She threw the ivory pointer down and, leaning 
 back in her chair, smiled at him. 
 
 "I don't believe," she said doubtfully, "that I 
 know much about afternoon calls. What would 
 I do, if we were on Fifth Avenue ? Would I give 
 you tea?" she asked; "because," she added has 
 tily, "there isn't any tea." 
 
 "In that case, it is not etiquette to offer any," 
 said Winthrop gravely. 
 
 92 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Then," said Vera, " I'm doing it right, so far ?" 
 
 They both laughed; Vera because she still was 
 in awe of him, and Winthrop because he was 
 happy. 
 
 "You're doing it charmingly," Winthrop as 
 sured her. 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed Vera. "Well, now," she 
 inquired, "now we talk, don't we ?" 
 
 "Yes," assented Winthrop promptly, "we talk 
 about you." 
 
 "No, I I don't think we do," declared Vera, 
 in haste. "I think we talk about Geneva." 
 She turned to him with real interest. "Is the 
 town much changed?" she asked. 
 
 As though preparing for a long talk, Winthrop 
 dropped his hat to the floor and settled himself 
 comfortably. "Well, it is, and it isn't," he an 
 swered. "Haven't you been back lately?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Vera looked quickly away from him. 
 
 "I have never been back!" she answered. 
 There was a pause and when she again turned 
 her eyes to his, she was smiling. "But I always 
 take the Geneva Times" she said, "and I often 
 read that you've been there. You're a great man 
 in Geneva." 
 
 Winthrop nodded gravely. 
 93 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Whenever I want to be a great man," he said, 
 "I go to Geneva/' 
 
 "Why, yes," exclaimed Vera. "Last June you 
 delivered the oration to the graduating class," she 
 laughed, "on 'The College Man in Politics/ 
 Such an original subject! And did you point to 
 yourself?" she asked mockingly, "as the the 
 bright example ? " 
 
 "No," protested Winthrop, "I knew they'd see 
 that." 
 
 Much to her relief, Vera found that of Winthrop 
 she was no longer afraid. 
 
 "Oh!" she protested, "didn't you say, 'twelve 
 years ago, a humble boy played ball for Hobart 
 College. That boy now stands before you'? 
 Didn't you say that ? " 
 
 "Something like that," assented the District 
 Attorney. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "that young 
 man who showed me in here your confederate or 
 fellow-conspirator or lookout man or whatever he 
 is told me you used to be a regular attendant 
 at those games." 
 
 "I never missed one!" Vera cried. She leaned 
 forward, her eyes shining, her brows knit with 
 the effort of recollection. 
 
 "I used to tell aunt," she said, "I had to drive 
 in for the mail. But that was only an excuse. 
 
 94 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Aunt had an old buggy, and an old white horse 
 called Roscoe Conkling. I called him 'Rocks/ 
 He was blind in one eye, and he would walk on the 
 wrong side of the road; you had to drive him on 
 one rein." The girl was speaking rapidly, ea 
 gerly. She had lost all fear of her visitor. With 
 satisfaction Winthrop recognized this; and uncon 
 sciously he was now frankly regarding the face 
 of the girl with a smile of pleasure and admira 
 tion. 
 
 "And I used to tie him to the fence just oppo 
 site first base," Vera went on excitedly, "and 
 shout for you!" 
 
 "Don't tell me," interrupted Winthrop, in bur 
 lesque excitement, "that you were that very 
 pretty little girl, with short dresses and long legs, 
 who used to sit on the top rail and kick and 
 cheer." 
 
 Vera shook her head sternly. 
 
 "I was," she said; "but you never saw me." 
 
 "Oh, yes, we did," protested Winthrop. "We 
 used to call you our mascot." 
 
 "No; that was some other little girl," said Vera 
 firmly. "You never looked at me, and I" 
 she laughed, and then frowned at him reproach 
 fully "I thought you were magnificent! I used 
 to have your pictures in base-ball clothes pi r 
 
 95 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 all around my looking-glass, and whenever you 
 made a base hit, I'd shout and shout and you'd 
 never look at me! And one day " she stopped, 
 and as though appalled by the memory, clasped 
 her hands. "Oh, it was awful!" she exclaimed; 
 "one day a foul ball hit the fence, and I jumped 
 down and threw it to you, and you said, 'Thank 
 you, sis!' And I," she cried, "thought I was a 
 young lady!" 
 
 "Oh! I couldn't have said that," protested 
 Winthrop; "maybe I said, 'sister."' 
 
 "No," declared Vera, energetically shaking her 
 head, "not 'sister/ 'sis.' And you never did look 
 at me; and I used to drive past your house every 
 day. We lived only a mile below you." 
 
 "Where?" asked Winthrop. 
 
 "On the lake road from Syracuse," said Vera. 
 "Don't you remember the farm a mile below 
 yours the one with the red barn right on the 
 road? Yes, you do," she insisted; "the cows 
 were always looking over the fence right into the 
 road." 
 
 "Of course!" exclaimed Winthrop delightedly. 
 " Was that your house ? " 
 
 "Oh, no," protested Vera; "ours was the little 
 cottage on the other side " 
 
 "With poplars round it?" demanded Winthrop. 
 06 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "That's it!" cried Vera triumphantly; "with 
 poplars round it." 
 
 "Why, I know that house well. We boys used 
 to call it the haunted house." 
 
 "That's the one," assented Vera. She smiled 
 with satisfaction. "Well, that's where I lived 
 until aunt died," she said. 
 
 "And then, what?" asked Winthrop. 
 
 For a moment the girl did not answer. Her 
 face had grown grave and she sat motionless, 
 staring beyond her. Suddenly, as though casting 
 her thoughts from her, she gave a sharp toss of 
 her head. 
 
 "Then," she said, speaking quickly; "I went 
 into the mills, and was ill there, and I wrote Paul 
 and Mabel to ask if I could join them, and they 
 said I could. But I was too ill, and I had no 
 money nothing. And then," she raised her eyes 
 to his and regarded him steadily; "then I stole 
 that cloak to get the money to join them, and you 
 you helped me to get away, and and " 
 
 Winthrop broke in hastily. He disregarded 
 both her manner and the nature of what she had 
 said. 
 
 "And how did you come to know the Vances ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 After a pause of an instant, the girl accepted 
 97 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 the cue his manner gave her, and answered as 
 before. 
 
 "Through my aunt/' she said. "She was a 
 medium too/' 
 
 "Of course!" cried Winthrop. "I remember 
 now. That's why we called it the haunted house." 
 
 " My aunt," said the girl, regarding him steadily 
 and with, in her manner, a certain defiance, 
 "was a great medium. All the spiritualists in 
 that part of the State used to meet at our house. 
 I've witnessed some wonderful manifestations in 
 that front parlor/' She turned to Winthrop and 
 smiled. "So, you see," she exclaimed, "I was 
 born and brought up in this business. I am the 
 seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. My 
 grandmother was a medium, my mother was a 
 medium she worked with the Fox sisters before 
 they were exposed. But, my aunt," she added 
 thoughtfully, judicially, "was the greatest me 
 dium I have ever seen. She did certain things / 
 couldn't understand, and I know every trick in 
 the trade unless," she explained, "you believe 
 the spirits helped her." 
 
 Winthrop was observing the girl intently, with 
 a new interest. 
 
 "And you don't believe that?" he asked, 
 quietly. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "How can I ?" Vera said. "I was brought up 
 with them." She shook her head and smiled. 
 "I used to play around the kitchen stove with 
 Pocahontas and Alexander the Great, and Martin 
 Luther lived in our china closet. You see, the 
 neighbors wouldn't let their children come to our 
 house; so, the only playmates I had were 
 ghosts/' She laughed wistfully. "My!" she ex 
 claimed, "I was a queer, lonely little rat. I used 
 to hear voices and see visions. I do still," she 
 added. With her elbows on the arms of her 
 chair, she clasped her hands under her chin and 
 leaned forward. She turned her eyes to Win- 
 throp and nodded confidentially. 
 
 "Do you know," she said, "sometimes I think 
 people from the other world do speak to me." 
 
 "But you said," Winthrop objected, "you 
 didn't believe." 
 
 "I know," returned Vera. "I can't!" Her 
 voice was perplexed, impatient. "Why, I can sit 
 in this chair," she declared earnestly, "and fill 
 this room with spirit voices and rappings, and you 
 sitting right there can't see how I do it. And 
 yet, in spite of all the tricks, sometimes I believe 
 there's something in it." 
 
 She looked at Winthrop, her eyes open with 
 inquiry. He shook his head. , 
 
 99 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Yes," insisted the girl. "When these women 
 come to me for advice, I don't invent what I say 
 to them. It's as though something told me what 
 to say. I have never met them before, but as soon 
 as I pass into the trance state I seem to know all 
 their troubles. And I seem to be half in this 
 world and half in another world carrying mes 
 sages between them. Maybe," her voice had 
 sunk to almost a whisper; she continued as though 
 speaking to herself, "I only think that. I don't 
 know. I wonder." 
 
 There was a long pause. 
 
 "I wish," began Winthrop earnestly, "I wish 
 you were younger, or I were older." 
 
 "Why?" asked Vera. 
 
 "Because," said the young man, "I'd like to 
 talk to you like a father." 
 
 Vera turned and smiled on him securely, with 
 frank friendliness. "Go ahead," she assented; 
 "talk to me like a father." 
 
 Winthrop smiled back at her, and then frowned. 
 "You shouldn't be in this business," he said. 
 
 The girl regarded him steadily. 
 
 "What's the matter with the business?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Winthrop felt she had put him upon the defen 
 sive, but he did not hesitate. 
 
 100 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Well," he said, "there may be some truth in 
 it. But we don't know that. We do know that 
 there's a lot of fraud and deceit in it. Now," he 
 declared warmly, "there's nothing deceitful about 
 you. You're fine," he cried enthusiastically, 
 "you're big! That boy who was in here told me 
 one story about you, that showed " 
 
 Vera stopped him sharply. 
 
 "What do you know of me?" she asked bit 
 terly. "The first time you ever saw me I was in 
 a police court; and this morning you heard that 
 man threaten to put me in jail " 
 
 In turn, by abruptly rising from his chair, Win- 
 throp interrupted her. He pushed the chair out 
 of his way, and, shoving his hands into his trou 
 sers' pockets, began pacing with long, quick 
 strides up and down the room. "What do I care 
 for that?" he cried contemptuously. He tossed 
 the words at her over his shoulder. " I put lots of 
 people in jail myself that are better than I am. 
 Only, they won't play the game." He halted, and 
 turned on her. "Now, you're not playing the 
 game. This is a mean business; taking money 
 from silly girls and old men. You're too good 
 for that." He halted at the table and stood fac 
 ing her. "I've got two sisters uptown," he said. 
 He spoke commandingly, peremptorily. "And 
 
 101 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Winthrop smiled at her confidently. 
 
 "I'm going to try," he said. 
 
 "No, please!" begged the girl. Her voice was 
 still shaken with tears. She motioned with her 
 head toward the room behind her. 
 
 "These are my people," she declared defiantly, 
 as though daring him to contradict her. "And 
 they are good people! They've tried to be good 
 friends to me; and they've been true to me." 
 
 Winthrop came toward her and stood beside 
 her; so close that he could have placed his hand 
 upon her shoulder. He wondered, whimsically, 
 if she knew how cruel she seemed in appealing 
 with her tears, her helplessness and loveliness to 
 what was generous and chivalric in him; and, at 
 the same time, by her words, treating him as an 
 interloper and an enemy. 
 
 "That's all right," he said gently. "But that 
 doesn't prevent my being a good friend to you, 
 too, does it? Or," he added, his voice growing 
 tense and conscious "my being true to you? 
 My sisters will be here to-morrow," he announced 
 briskly. 
 
 Vera had wearily dropped her arms upon the 
 table and lowered her head upon them. From a 
 place down in the depths she murmured a pro 
 test. 
 
 104 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "No/' contradicted Winthrop cheerfully, "this 
 time you are going to win. You'll have back of 
 you, if I do say it, two of the best women God 
 ever made. Only, now, you must do as I say." 
 There was a pause. "Will you?" he begged. 
 
 Vera raised her head slowly, holding her 
 hand across her eyes. There was a longer silence, 
 and then she looked up at him and smiled patheti 
 cally, gratefully, and nodded. 
 
 "Good!" cried Winthrop. "No more spooks,'* 
 he laughed; "no more spirit rappings." 
 
 Through her tears Vera smiled up at him a wan, 
 broken smile. She gave a shudder of distaste. 
 "Never!" she whispered. "I promise." Their 
 eyes met; the girl's looking into his shyly, grate 
 fully; the man's searching hers eagerly. And 
 suddenly they saw each other with a new and 
 wonderful sympathy and understanding. Win 
 throp felt himself bending toward her. He was 
 conscious that the room had grown dark, and 
 that he could see only her eyes. "You must be 
 just yourself," he commanded, but so gently, so 
 tenderly, that, though he did not know it, each 
 word carried with it the touch of a caress, "just 
 your sweet, fine, noble self!" 
 
 Something he read in the girl's uplifted eyes 
 made him draw back with a shock of wonder, of 
 
 105 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 delight, with an upbraiding conscience. To pull 
 himself together, he glanced quickly about him. 
 The day had really grown dark. He felt a sudden 
 desire to get away; to go where he could ask him 
 self what had happened, what it was that had filled 
 this unknown, tawdry room with beauty and 
 given it the happiness of a home. 
 
 "By Jove!" he exclaimed nervously, "I had 
 no idea I'd stayed so long. You'll not let me come 
 again. Good-by until to-morrow." He turned, 
 holding out his hand, and found that again the 
 girl had dropped her face upon her arm, and was 
 sobbing quietly, gently. 
 
 "Oh, what is it?" cried Winthrop. "What 
 have I said?" The catch in the girl's voice 
 as she tried to check the sobs wrenched his 
 heart. "Oh, please," he begged; "I've said 
 something wrong ? I've hurt you ? " With her 
 face still hidden in her arms, the girl shook her 
 head. 
 
 "No, no!" she sobbed. Her voice, soft with 
 tears, was a melody of sweet and tender tones. 
 "It's only that I've been so lonely and you've 
 made me happy, happy!" 
 
 The sobs broke out afresh, but Winthrop, now 
 knowing that they brought to the girl peace, 
 was no longer filled with dismay. 
 
 106 
 
Suddenly they saw each other with a new and wonderful 
 sympathy 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Her head was bent upon her left arm, her right 
 hand lightly clasped the edge of the table. With 
 the intention of saying farewell, Winthrop took 
 her hand in his. The girl did not move. To his 
 presence she seemed utterly oblivious. In the 
 gathering dusk he could see the bent figure, could 
 hear the soft, irregular breathing as the girl wept 
 gently, happily; like a child sobbing itself to 
 sleep. The hand he held in his neither repelled 
 nor invited, and for an instant he stood motionless, 
 holding it uncertainly. It was so delicate, so help 
 less, so appealing, so altogether lovable. It seemed 
 to reach up, and, with warm, clinging fingers, 
 clutch the tendrils of his heart. 
 
 Winthrop bent his head suddenly, and lifting 
 the hand, kissed it; and then, without again 
 speaking, walked quickly into the hall and shut 
 the door. In the room the dusk deepened. 
 Through the open windows came the roar of the 
 Sixth Avenue Elevated, the insistent clamor of 
 an electric hansom, the murmur of Broadway at 
 night. The tears had suddenly ceased, but the 
 girl had not moved. At last, slowly, stiffly, she 
 raised her head. Her eyes, filled with wonder, 
 with amazement, were fixed upon her hand. 
 She glanced cautiously about her. Assured she 
 was alone, with her other hand she lifted the one 
 
 107 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Winthrop had kissed and held it pressed against 
 her lips. 
 
 The folding doors were thrown open, letting 
 in a flood of light, and Mabel Vance, entering 
 swiftly, knelt at the table and bent her head close 
 to Vera. 
 
 "That woman's in the hall," she whispered, 
 "that niece of Halloweirs. Paul and Mannie 
 can't get rid of her. Now she's got hold of Win 
 throp. She says she will see you. Be careful!" 
 
 Vera rose. That Mabel might not see she had 
 been weeping, she walked to the piano, covertly 
 drying her eyes. 
 
 "What," she asked dully, "does she want with 
 me?" 
 
 "About to-night," answered Mabel. She ex 
 claimed fiercely, "I told them there'd be trouble!" 
 
 With Vance upon her heels, Helen Coates 
 came in quickly from the hall. Her face was 
 flushed, her eyes lit with indignation and excite 
 ment. In her hand she held an open letter. 
 
 As though to protect Vera, both Vance and 
 his wife moved between her and their visitor, 
 but, disregarding them, Miss Coates at once 
 singled out the girl as her opponent. 
 
 "You are the young woman they call Vera, I 
 believe," she said. "I have a note here from Mr. 
 
 108 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Hallowell telling me you are giving a seance to 
 night at his house. That you propose to exhibit 
 the spirit of my mother. That is an insult to the 
 memory of my mother and to me. And I warn 
 you, if you attempt such a thing, I will pre 
 
 vent it." 
 
 There was a pause. When Vera spoke it was 
 in the tone of every-day politeness. Her voice 
 was even and steady. 
 
 "You have been misinformed," she said. 
 "There will be no seance to-night." 
 
 Vance turned to Vera, and, in a voice lower 
 than her own, but sufficiently loud to include 
 Miss Coates, said: "I don't think we told you 
 that Mr. Hallowell himself insists that this lady 
 and her friends be present." 
 
 "Her presence makes no difference," said 
 Vera quietly. "There will be no seance to-night. 
 I will tell you about it later, Paul," she added. 
 She started toward the door, but Miss Coates 
 moved as though to intercept her. 
 
 "If you think," she cried eagerly, "you can 
 give a seance to Mr. Hallowell without my know 
 ing it, you are mistaken." 
 
 Vera paused, and made a slight inclination of 
 her head. 
 
 "That was not my idea," she said. She looked 
 109 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 appealingly to Vance. "Is that not enough, 
 Paul?" she asked. 
 
 "Quite enough!" exclaimed the man. He 
 turned to the visitor and made a curt movement 
 of the hand toward the open door. 
 
 "There will be a seance to-night," he declared. 
 "At Mr. Hallowell's. If you wish to protest 
 against it, you can do so there. This is my house. 
 If you have finished " He repeated the gesture 
 toward the open door. 
 
 "I have not finished," said Miss Coates sharply; 
 "and if you take my advice, you will follow her 
 example." With a nod of the head she signified 
 Vera. "When she sees she's in danger, she 
 knows enough to stop. This is not a question of 
 a few medium's tricks," she cried, contemptu 
 ously. "I know all that you planned to do, and 
 I intend that to-morrow every one in New York 
 shall know it too." 
 
 Like a cloak Vera's self-possession fell from 
 her. In alarm she moved forward. 
 
 "What do you mean ?" she demanded. 
 
 " I have had you people followed pretty closely," 
 said Miss Coates. Her tone was assured. She 
 was confident that of those before her she was 
 the master, and that of that fact they were 
 aware. 
 
 no 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I know," she went on, "just how you tried to 
 impose upon my uncle how you tried to rob 
 me, and to-night I have invited the reporters to 
 my house to give them the facts." 
 
 With a cry Vera ran to her. 
 
 "No!" she begged, "you won't do that. You 
 must not do that!" 
 
 "Let her talk!" growled Vance. "Let her 
 talk! She's funny." 
 
 " No ! " commanded Vera. Her voice rang with 
 the distress. "She cannot do that!" She turned 
 to Miss Coates. "We haven't hurt you," she 
 pleaded; "we haven't taken your money. I 
 promise you," she cried, "we will never see Mr. 
 Hallowell again. I beg of you " 
 
 Vance indignantly caught her by the arm and 
 drew her back. "You don't beg nothing of her!" 
 he cried. 
 
 "I do," Vera answered wildly. She caught 
 Vance's hand in both of hers. "I have a chance, 
 Paul," she entreated; "don't force me through 
 it again. I can't stand the shame of it again." 
 Once more she appealed to the visitor. "Don't!" 
 she begged. "Don't shame me." 
 
 But the eyes of the older girl, blind to every 
 thing save what, as she saw it, was her duty, showed 
 no consideration. 
 
 in 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Vera's hands, trembling on his arm, drove 
 Vance to deeper anger. He turned savagely upon 
 Miss Coates. 
 
 "You haven't lost anything yet, have you?" 
 he demanded. "She hasn't hurt you, has she? 
 If it's revenge you want," he cried insolently, 
 "why don't you throw vitriol on the girl?" 
 
 "Revenge!" exclaimed Miss Coates indig 
 nantly. "It is my duty. My public duty. I'm 
 not alone in this; I am acting with the District 
 Attorney. It is our duty." She turned suddenly 
 and called, "Mr. Winthrop, Mr. Winthrop!" 
 
 For the first time Vera saw, under the gas jet, 
 at the farther end of the hall, the figures of Mannie 
 and Winthrop. 
 
 "No, no!" she protested; "I beg of you," she 
 cried hysterically; "I've got a chance. If you 
 print this thing to-morrow, I'll never have a 
 chance again. Don't take it away from me." 
 Impulsively her arms reached out in an eager 
 final appeal. "I'm down," she said simply, "give 
 me a chance to get up." 
 
 When Miss Coates came to give battle to the 
 Vances, she foresaw the interview might be un 
 pleasant. It was proving even more unpleasant 
 than she had expected, but her duty seemed none 
 the less obvious. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "You should have thought of that/' she said, 
 " before you were found out." 
 
 For an instant Vera stood motionless, staring, 
 unconsciously holding the attitude of appeal. 
 But when, by these last words, she recognized 
 that her humiliation could go no further, with an 
 inarticulate exclamation she turned away. 
 
 "The public has the right to know," declared 
 Miss Coates, "the sort of people you are. I have 
 the record of each of you 
 
 From the hall Winthrop had entered quickly, 
 but, disregarding him, Vance broke in upon the 
 speaker, savagely, defiantly. 
 
 "Print 'em, then!" he shouted; "print 'em!" 
 
 "I mean to," declared Miss Coates; "yours, 
 and hers, she " 
 
 Winthrop placed himself in front of her, shut 
 ting her off from the others. He spoke in an 
 earnest whisper. 
 
 "Don't!" he begged. "She has asked for a 
 chance. Give her a chance." 
 
 Miss Coates scorned to speak in whispers. 
 
 "She has had a chance," she protested loudly. 
 "She's had a chance for nine years; and she's 
 chosen to be a charlatan and a cheat, and- 
 The angry woman hesitated, and then flung the 
 " and a thief!" 
 
 "3 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 In the silence that followed no one turned 
 toward Vera; but as it continued unbroken each 
 raised his eyes and looked at her. 
 
 They saw her drawn to her full height; the 
 color flown from her face, her deep, brooding 
 eyes flashing. She was like one by some relig 
 ious fervor lifted out of herself, exalted. When 
 she spoke her voice was low, tense. It vibrated 
 with tremendous, wondering indignation. 
 
 "Do you know who I am?" she asked. She 
 spoke like one in a trance. "Do you know who 
 you are threatening with your police and your 
 laws ? I am a priestess ! I am a medium between 
 the souls of this world and the next. I am Vera 
 the Truth! And I mean," the girl cried sud 
 denly, harshly, flinging out her arm, "that you 
 shall hear the truth! To-night I will bring your 
 mother from the grave to speak it to you!" 
 
 With a swift, sweeping gesture she pointed to 
 the door. "Take those people away!" she 
 cried. 
 
 The eyes of Winthrop were filled with pity. 
 "Vera!" he said, "Vera!" 
 
 For an instant, against the tenderness and re 
 proach in his voice the girl held herself motionless; 
 and then, falling upon the shoulder of Mrs. Vance, 
 burst into girlish, heart-broken tears. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Take them away," she sobbed; "take them 
 away!" 
 
 Mannie Day and Vance closed in upon the 
 visitors, and motioning them before them, drove 
 them from the room. 
 
PART III 
 
 THE departure of the District Attorney and 
 Miss Coates left Vera free to consider how 
 serious, if she carried out her threat, the conse 
 quences might be. But of this chance she did 
 not avail herself. Instead, with nervous zeal she 
 began to prepare for her masquerade. It was as 
 though her promise to Winthrop to abandon her 
 old friends had filled her with remorse, and that 
 she now, by an extravagance of loyalty, was en 
 deavoring to make amends. 
 
 At nine o'clock, with the Vances, she arrived 
 at the house of Mr. Hallowell. Already, to the 
 same place, a wagon had carried the cabinet, a 
 parlor organ, and a dozen of those camp-chairs 
 that are associated with house weddings and 
 funerals; and while, in the library, Vance and 
 Mannie arranged these to their liking, on the 
 third floor Vera, with Mrs. Vance, waited for that 
 moment to arrive when Vance considered her 
 entrance would be the most effective. 
 
 This entrance was to be made through the 
 doorway that opened from the hall on the second 
 
 117 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 story into the library. To the right of this door, 
 in an angle of two walls, was the cabinet, and on 
 the left, the first of the camp-chairs. These had 
 been placed in a semicircle that stretched across 
 the room, and ended at the parlor organ. The 
 door from Mr. Hallowell's bedroom opened di 
 rectly upon the semicircle at the point most dis 
 tant from the cabinet. In the centre of the semi 
 circle Vance had placed the invalid's arm-chair. 
 
 Vance, in his manner as professional and un 
 disturbed as a photographer focussing his camera 
 and arranging his screens, was explaining to Judge 
 Gaylor the setting of his stage. The judge was 
 an unwilling audience. Unlike the showman, for 
 him the occasion held only terrors. He was driven 
 by misgivings, swept by sudden panics. He 
 scowled at the cabinet, intruding upon the privacy 
 of the room where for years, without the aid of 
 accessories, by his brains alone, he had brought 
 Mr. Hallowell almost to the point of abject sub 
 mission to his wishes. He turned upon Vance 
 with bitter self-disgust. 
 
 "So, I've got down as low as this, have I?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 Vance heard him, undisturbed. 
 
 "I must ask you," he said, briskly, "to help 
 me keep the people just as I seat them. They 
 
 118 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 will be in this half-circle facing the cabinet and 
 holding hands. Those we know are against us," 
 he explained, "will have one of my friends, Pro 
 fessor Strombergk, or Mrs. Marsh, or my wife, 
 on each side of him. If there should be any 
 attempt to rush the cabinet, we must get there 
 first. I will be outside the cabinet working the 
 rappings, the floating music, and the astral bod 
 ies." At the sight of the expression these words 
 brought to the face of Gaylor, Vance permitted 
 himself the shadow of a smile. "I can take care 
 of myself," he went on, "but remember Vera 
 must not be caught outside the cabinet! When 
 the lights go up, she must be found with the 
 ropes still tied." 
 
 Gaylor turned from him with an exclamation 
 of disgust. 
 
 "Pah!" he muttered. "It's a hell of a busi 
 ness!" 
 
 Vance continued unmoved. "And, another 
 thing," he said, "about these lights: this switch 
 throws them all off, doesn't it?" He pressed a 
 button on the left of the door, and the electric 
 lights in the walls and under a green shade on 
 the library table faded and disappeared, leaving 
 the room, save for the light from the hall, in dark 
 ness. 
 
 119 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "That's the way we want it," said the show 
 man. 
 
 From the hall Mannie appeared between the 
 curtains that hung across the doorway. "What 
 are you doing with the lights?" he demanded. 
 "You want to break my neck? All our people 
 are downstairs," he announced. 
 
 Vance turned on the lights. At the same 
 moment Rainey came from the bedroom into the 
 library. It was evident that to sustain his courage 
 he had been drinking. He made no effort to greet 
 those in the room, but stood, glaring resentfully 
 at the cabinet and the row of chairs. 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Vance cheerfully, "if our 
 folks are all here, we're all right." 
 
 Glancing behind him, Mannie took Vance by 
 the sleeve, and led him to the centre of the room. 
 
 "No, we're not all right," said the boy; "that 
 Miss Coates has brought a friend with her. She 
 says Hallowell told her she could bring a friend. 
 She says this young fellow is her friend. I think 
 he's a Pink!" 
 
 "What nonsense," exclaimed Gaylor in alarm. 
 "No detective would force his way into this 
 house." 
 
 "She says," continued Mannie, disregarding 
 Gaylor, and still addressing Vance, " 'he's a 
 
 120 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 seeker after the Truth/ I'll bet," declared the 
 boy violently, "he's a seeker after the truth!" 
 
 Garrett came hastily and noiselessly into the 
 room. He nodded toward Mannie. 
 
 "Has he told you?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," Gaylor answered; "who is he?" 
 
 "The reporter who was here this morning," 
 Garrett returned. "The one who threatened " 
 
 "That'll do," commanded Gaylor. In the 
 face of this new complication he again became 
 himself. Suavely and politely he turned to Vance. 
 "Will you and your friend join Miss Vera," he 
 asked, "and tell her that we begin in a few min 
 utes?" 
 
 For the first time, aggressively and offensively 
 Rainey broke his silence. 
 
 "No, we won't begin in a few minutes," he 
 announced, "not by a damned sight!" 
 
 The explosion was so unexpected that, for an 
 instant, while the eyes of all were fixed in as 
 tonishment upon the speaker, there was complete 
 silence. Gaylor, still suave, still polite, looked 
 toward Vance, and motioned him to the door. 
 
 "Will you kindly do as I ask ?" he said. With 
 Mannie at his side, Vance walked quickly from 
 the room. Once in the hall, the boy laid a de 
 taining hand upon the arm of the older man. 
 
 121 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "If you'll take my advice, which you won't," 
 he said, "we'll all cut and run now, while we got 
 the chance!" 
 
 In the library, Gaylor turned savagely upon his 
 fellow-conspirator. 
 
 "Well!" he demanded. 
 
 Rainey frowned at him sulkily. "I wash my 
 hands of the whole thing!" he cried. 
 
 Gaylor dropped his voice to a whisper. 
 
 "What are you afraid of now ?" he demanded. 
 "If you're not afraid of a district attorney, why 
 are you afraid of a reporter ? " 
 
 "I'm not afraid of anybody," returned Rainey, 
 thickly. "But, I don't mean to be a party to 
 no murder!" He paused, shaking his head por 
 tentously. "That man in there," he whispered, 
 nodding toward the bedroom, "is in no condition 
 to go through this. After that shock this morning, 
 and last night it'll kill him. His heart's rotten, 
 I tell you, rotten!" 
 
 Garrett snarled contemptuously. 
 
 "How do you know?" he demanded. 
 
 "How do I know?" returned Rainey, fiercely; 
 "I was four years in a medical college, when you 
 were in jail, you " 
 
 "Stop that!" cried Gaylor. Glancing fearfully 
 toward the open door, he interposed between them. 
 
 122 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Don't take my advice, then/' cried Rainey. 
 "Go on! Kill him! And he won't sign your 
 will. Only, don't say I didn't tell you." 
 
 "Have you told him?" demanded Gaylor. 
 
 "Yes," Rainey answered stoutly. "Told him 
 if he didn't stop this, he wouldn't live till morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "Are we forcing him to do this?" demanded 
 Gaylor. "No! he's forcing it on us. My God!" 
 he exclaimed, " do you think I want this farce ? 
 You say, yourself, you told him it would kill him, 
 and he will go on with it. Then why do you 
 blame us ? Can we help ourselves ?" 
 
 The butler had distinguished the sounds of 
 footsteps in the hall. He fell hastily to rearrang 
 ing the camp-chairs. 
 
 "Hush!" he warned. "Look out!" Gaylor 
 and Rainey had but time to move apart, when 
 Winthrop entered. He regarded the three men 
 with a smile of understanding. 
 
 " I beg pardon," he exclaimed, " I am interrupt- 
 ing?" 
 
 Gaylor greeted him with exaggerated heartiness. 
 
 "Ah, it is Mr. Winthrop!" he cried. "Have 
 you come to help us find out the truth this even- 
 
 ing?" 
 
 I certainly hope not!" said Winthrop brusque- 
 123 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 ly. "I know the truth about too many people 
 already." He turned to Garrett, who, unob 
 trusively, was endeavoring to make his escape. 
 
 "I want to see Miss Vera," he said. 
 
 "Miss Vera," interposed Gaylor. "I'm afraid 
 that's not possible. She especially asked not to 
 be disturbed before the seance. I'm sorry." 
 
 Winthrop's manner became suspiciously po 
 lite. 
 
 "Yes?" he inquired. "Well, nevertheless I 
 think I'll ask her. Tell Miss Vera, please," he 
 said to Garrett, "that Mr. Winthrop would like 
 a word with her here," with significance he 
 added, "in private." 
 
 In offended dignity, Judge Gaylor moved 
 toward the door. "Dr. Rainey," he said stiffly, 
 "will you please inform Mr. Hallowell that his 
 guests are now here, and that I have gone to bring 
 them upstairs." 
 
 "Yes, but you won't bring them upstairs, 
 please," said Winthrop, "until you hear from 
 
 me." 
 
 Gaylor flushed with anger and for a moment 
 appeared upon the point of mutiny. Then, as 
 though refusing to consider himself responsible 
 for the manners of the younger man, he shrugged 
 his shoulders and left the room. 
 
 124 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 With even less of consideration than he had 
 shown to Judge Gaylor, Winthrop turned upon 
 Rainey. 
 
 "How's your patient ?" he asked shortly. 
 Rainey was sufficiently influenced by the liquor 
 he had taken to dare to resent Winthrop's per 
 emptory tone. His own in reply was designedly 
 offensive. 
 
 "My patient?" he inquired. 
 
 "Mr. Hallowell," snapped Winthrop; "he's 
 sick, isn't he?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," returned the Doctor. 
 
 "You don't know?" demanded Winthrop. 
 "Well, / know. I know if he goes through this 
 thing to-night, he'll have another collapse. I 
 saw one this morning. Why don't you forbid it ? 
 You're his medical adviser, aren't you?" 
 
 Rainey remained sullenly silent. 
 
 "Answer me!" insisted the District Attorney. 
 "You are, aren't you ?" 
 
 "I am," at last declared Rainey. 
 
 "Well, then," commanded Winthrop, "tell 
 him to stop this. Tell him / advise it." 
 
 Through his glasses Rainey blinked violently 
 at the District Attorney, and laughed. 
 
 "I didn't know," he said, "that you were a 
 medical man." 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Winthrop looked at the Doctor so steadily, 
 and for so long a time, that the eyes of the young 
 man sought the floor and the ceiling; and his 
 sneer changed to an expression of discomfort. 
 
 "I am not," said Winthrop. "I am the Dis 
 trict Attorney of New York." His tones were 
 cold, precise; they fell upon the superheated 
 brain of Dr. Rainey like drops from an icicle. 
 "When I took over that office," continued Win 
 throp, "I found a complaint against two medical 
 students, a failure to report the death of an old 
 man in a private sanitarium." Winthrop lowered 
 his eyes, and became deeply absorbed in the toe 
 of his boot. "I haven't looked into the papers, 
 yet," he said. 
 
 Rainey, swaying slightly, jerked open the door 
 of the bedroom. " I'll tell him," he panted thickly. 
 "I'll tell him to do as you say." 
 
 "Thank you, I wish you would," said Winthrop. 
 
 At the same moment, from the hall, Garrett 
 announced, "Mrs. Vance, sir." And Mabel Vance, 
 tremulous and frightened, entered the room. 
 
 Winthrop approached her eagerly. 
 
 "Ah! Mrs. Vance," he exclaimed, "can I see 
 Miss Vera?" 
 
 Embarrassed and unhappy, Mrs. Vance moved 
 restlessly from foot to foot, and shook her head. 
 
 126 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Please, Mr. District Attorney/' she begged, 
 "I'm afraid not. This afternoon upset her so. 
 And she's so nervous and queer that the Pro 
 fessor thinks she shouldn't see nobody." 
 
 Winthrop nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 "The Professor?" he commented. His voice 
 was considerate, conciliatory. "Now, Mrs. 
 Vance," he said, "I've known Miss Vera ever 
 since she was a little girl, known her longer than 
 you have, and, I'm her friend, and you're her 
 friend, and " 
 
 "I am," protested Mabel Vance tearfully. 
 "Indeed I am!" 
 
 " I know you are," Winthrop interrupted hastily. 
 "You've been more than a friend to her, you've 
 been a sister, mother, and you don't want any 
 trouble to come to her, do you ? " 
 
 "I don't," cried the woman. "Oh!" she ex 
 claimed miserably, "I told them there'd be 
 trouble!" 
 
 Winthrop laughed reassuringly. 
 
 "Well, there won't be any trouble," he de 
 clared, "if 7 can help it. And if you want to 
 help her, help me. Persuade her to let me talk 
 to her. Don't mind what the Professor says." 
 
 "I will," declared Mrs. Vance with determi 
 nation, "I will." She started eagerly toward the 
 
 127 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 hall, and then paused and returned. Her hands 
 were clasped; her round, baby eyes, wet with 
 tears, were fixed upon Winthrop appealingly. 
 
 "Oh, please," she pleaded, "you're not going 
 to hurt him, are you ? Paul, my husband," she 
 explained; "he's been such a good husband to 
 
 me." 
 
 Winthrop laughed uneasily. 
 
 "Why, that'll be all right," he protested. 
 
 "He doesn't mean any harm," insisted Mrs. 
 Vance; "he's on the level; true, he is!" 
 
 "Why, of course, of course," Winthrop as 
 sented. 
 
 Unsatisfied, Mrs. Vance burst into tears. "It's 
 this spirit business that makes the trouble!" she 
 cried. "I tell them to cut it out. Now, the mind- 
 reading at the theatre," she sobbed, "there's no 
 harm in that, is there ? And there's twice the 
 money in it. But this ghost raising"- - she raised 
 her eyes appealingly, as though begging to be 
 contradicted "it's sure to get him into trouble, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 Winthrop shook his head, and smiled. 
 
 "It may," he said. Mrs. Vance broke into a 
 fresh outburst of tears. "I knew it," she cried, 
 " I knew it." Winthrop placed his hand upon her 
 arm and turned her in the direction of the door. 
 
 128 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 " Don't worry," he said soothingly. "Go send 
 Miss Vera here. And," he called after her, "don't 
 worry." 
 
 As Mabel departed upon his errand, Rainey re- 
 entered from the bedroom. He carefully closed 
 the door and halted with his hand upon the knob, 
 and shook his head. 
 
 "It's no use," he said, "he will go on with it. 
 It's not my fault," he whined; "I told him it would 
 kill him. I couldn't make it any stronger than 
 that, could I?" 
 
 Rainey was not looking at Winthrop, but, as 
 though fearful of interruption, toward the door. 
 His eyes were harassed, furtive, filled with miser 
 able indecision. Many times before Winthrop 
 had seen men in such a state. He knew that for 
 the sufferer it foretold a physical break-down, or 
 that he would seek relief in full confession. To 
 give the man confidence, he abandoned his atti 
 tude of suspicion. 
 
 "That certainly would be strong enough for 
 me," he said cheerfully. "Did you tell him what 
 I advised?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," muttered Rainey impatiently. 
 "He said you were invited here to give advice to 
 his niece, not to him." For the first time his 
 eyes met those of Winthrop boldly. The District 
 
 129 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Attorney recognized that the man had taken his 
 fears by the throat, and had arrived at his decision. 
 
 "See here," exclaimed Rainey; "could I give 
 you some information ? " 
 
 "I'm sure you could," returned Winthrop 
 briskly. "Give it to me now." 
 
 But Rainey, glancing toward the door, shrank 
 back. Winthrop, following the direction of his eyes, 
 saw Vera. Impatiently he waved Rainey away. 
 
 "At the office, to-morrow morning," he com 
 manded. 
 
 With a sigh of relief at the reprieve, Rainey 
 slipped back into the bedroom. 
 
 Winthrop had persuaded himself that in seek 
 ing to speak with Vera, he was making only a 
 natural choice between preventing the girl from 
 perpetrating a fraud, or, later, for that fraud, 
 holding her to account. But when she actually 
 stood before him, he recognized how absurdly 
 he had deceived himself. At the mere physical 
 sight of her, there came to him a swift relief, a 
 thrill of peace and deep content; and with de 
 lighted certainty he knew that what Vera might 
 do or might not do concerned him not at all, that 
 for him all that counted was the girl herself. 
 With something of this showing in his face, he 
 came eagerly toward her. 
 
 130 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Vera!" he exclaimed. In the word there 
 was delight, wonder, tenderness; but if the girl 
 recognized this she concealed her knowledge. 
 Instead, her eyes looked into his frankly; her 
 manner was that of open friendliness. 
 
 "Mabel tells me you want to talk to me/' she 
 said evenly, "but I don't want you to. / have 
 something I want to say to you. I could have 
 written it, but this" for an instant the girl 
 paused with her lips pressed together; when she 
 spoke, her voice carried the firmness and finality 
 of one delivering a verdict "but this," she re 
 peated, "is the last time you shall hear from me, 
 or see me again." 
 
 Winthrop gave an exclamation of impatience, 
 of indignation. 
 
 "No," returned the girl, "it is quite final. 
 Maybe you will not want to see me, but " 
 
 Winthrop again sharply interrupted her. His 
 voice was filled with reproach. "Vera!" he pro 
 tested. 
 
 "Well," said the girl more gently, "I'm glad 
 to think you do, but this is the last, and before 
 I go, I " 
 
 "Go!" demanded Winthrop roughly. "Where ?" 
 
 "Before I go," continued the girl, "I want to 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 tell you how much you have helped me I want 
 to thank you " 
 
 "You haven't let me thank you," broke in 
 Winthrop, "and, now, you pretend this is our last 
 meeting. It's absurd!" 
 
 "It is our last meeting," replied the girl. Of 
 the two, for the moment, she was the older, the 
 more contained. 
 
 "On the contrary," contradicted the man. He 
 spoke sharply, in a tone he tried to make as de 
 termined as her own. "Our next meeting will 
 be in ten minutes at my sister's. I have told 
 her about this afternoon, and about you; and 
 she wants very much to meet you. She has 
 sent her car for you. It's waiting in front of 
 the house. Now," he commanded masterfully, 
 "you come with me, and get in it, and leave all 
 this" he gave an angry, contemptuous wave of 
 the hand toward the cabinet "behind you, as," 
 he added earnestly, "you promised me you would." 
 
 As though closing from sight the possibility 
 he suggested, the girl shut her eyes quickly, and 
 then opened them again to meet his. 
 
 "I can't leave these things behind me," she 
 said quietly. "I told you so this afternoon. For 
 a moment, you made me think I could, and I 
 
 132 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 did promise. I didn't need to promise. It's what 
 I've prayed for. Then, you saw what happened, 
 you saw I was right. Within five minutes that 
 woman came " 
 
 "That woman had a motive," protested Win- 
 throp. 
 
 "That woman," continued the girl patiently, 
 "or some other woman. What does it matter? 
 In five minutes, or five days, some one would have 
 told." She leaned toward him anxiously. "I'm 
 not complaining," she said; "it's my own fault. 
 It's the life I've chosen." She hesitated and then, 
 as though determined to carry out a programme 
 she had already laid down for herself, continued 
 rapidly: "And what I want to tell you, is, that 
 what's best in that life I owe to you." 
 
 "Vera!" cried the man sharply. 
 
 "Listen!" said the girl. Her eyes were alight, 
 eager. She spoke frankly, proudly, without em 
 barrassment, without fear of being misconstrued, 
 as a man might speak to a man. 
 
 "I'd be ungrateful, I'd be a coward," said the 
 girl, "if I went away and didn't tell you. For 
 ten years I've been counting on you. I made you 
 a sort of standard. I said, as long as he keeps to 
 his ideals, I'm going to keep to mine. Maybe 
 you think my ideals have not been very high, 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 but anyway you've made it easy for me. Because 
 Fm in this business, because I'm good-looking 
 enough, certain men " the voice of the girl grew 
 hard and cool "have done me the honor to insult 
 me, and it was knowing you, and that there are 
 others like you, that helped me not to care." 
 The girl paused. She raised her eyes to his 
 frankly. The look in them was one of pride in 
 him, of loyalty, of affection. "And now, since I've 
 met you," she went on, "I find you're just as I 
 imagined you'd be, just as I'd hoped you'd be." 
 She reached out her hand warningly, appealingly. 
 "And I don't want you to change, to let down, 
 to grow discouraged. You can't tell how many 
 more people are counting on you." She hesitated 
 and, as though at last conscious of her own bold 
 ness, flushed deprecatingly, like one asking par 
 don. "You men in high places," she stammered, 
 "you're like light-houses showing the way. You 
 don't know how many people you are helping. 
 You can't see them. You can't tell how many 
 boats are following your light, but if your light 
 goes out, they are wrecked." She gave a sigh 
 of relief. "That's what I wanted to tell you," 
 she said; "and, so thank you." She held out her 
 hand. "And, good-by." 
 
 Winthrop's answer was to clasp her hand 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 quickly in both of his, and draw her toward 
 him. 
 
 "Vera," he begged, "come with me now!" 
 
 The girl withdrew her hand and moved away 
 from him, frowning. "No," she said, "no; you 
 do not want to understand. I have my work to 
 do to-night." 
 
 Winthrop gave an exclamation of anger. 
 
 "You don't mean to tell me," he cried, "that 
 you're going on with this ?" 
 
 "Yes," she said. And then in sudden alarm 
 cried : " But not if you're here ! I'll fail if you're 
 here. Promise me, you will not be here." 
 
 "Indeed," cried the man indignantly, "I will 
 not! But I'll be downstairs when you need 
 me. And," he added warningly, "you'll need 
 
 me." 
 
 "No," said the girl. "No matter what happens, 
 I tell you, between us, this is the end." 
 
 "Then," begged the man, "if this is the end, 
 for God's sake, Vera, as my last request, do not do 
 it!" 
 
 The girl shook her head. "No," she repeated 
 firmly. "I've tried to get away from it, and each 
 time they've forced me back. Now, I'll go on with 
 it. I've promised Paul, and the others. And you 
 heard me promise that woman." 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "But you didn't mean that!" protested the 
 man. "She insulted you; you were angry. You're 
 angry now, piqued " 
 
 "Mr. Winthrop," interrupted the girl, "to-day 
 you told me I was not playing the game. You 
 told the truth. When you said this was a mean 
 business, you were right. But" for the first time 
 since she had spoken her tones were shaken, un 
 certain " I've been driven out of every other busi 
 ness." She waited until her voice was again under 
 control, and then said slowly, definitely, "And, to 
 night, I am going to show Mr. Hallowell the spirit 
 of his sister." 
 
 In the eyes of Winthrop the look of pain, of dis 
 appointment, of reproach, was so keen, that the 
 girl turned her own away. 
 
 "No," said the man gently, "you will not do 
 that." 
 
 "You can stop my doing it to-night," returned 
 the girl, "but at some other time, at some other 
 place, I will do it." 
 
 "You yourself will stop it," said Winthrop. 
 "You are too honest, too fine, to act such a lie. 
 Why not be yourself ? " he begged. " Why not dis 
 appoint these other people who do not know you ? 
 Why disappoint the man who knows you best, who 
 
 trusts you, who believes in you " 
 
 136 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "You are the very one," interrupted the girl, 
 "who doesn't know me. I am not fine; I am not 
 honest. I am a charlatan and a cheat; I am all 
 that woman called me. And that is why you 
 can't know me. That's why, I told you, if you 
 did, you would be sorry." 
 
 "I am not sorry," said Winthrop. 
 
 "You will be," returned the girl, "before the 
 night is over." 
 
 "On the contrary," answered the man quietly, 
 "I shall wait here to congratulate you on your 
 failure." 
 
 "I shall not fail," said the girl. Avoiding his 
 eyes, she turned from him and, for a moment, 
 stood gazing before her miserably. Her lips 
 were trembling, her eyes moist with rising tears. 
 Then she faced him, her head raised defiantly. 
 
 " I have been hounded out of every decent way 
 of living," she protested hysterically. "I can 
 make thousands of dollars to-night," she cried, 
 "out of this one." 
 
 Winthrop looked straight into her eyes. His 
 own were pleading, full of tenderness and pity; 
 so eloquent with meaning that those of the girl 
 fell before them. 
 
 "That is no answer," said the man. "You 
 know it's not. I tell you you will fail." 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 From the hall Judge Gaylor entered noisily. 
 Instinctively the man and girl moved nearer 
 together, and upon the intruder Winthrop turned 
 angrily. 
 
 "Well?" he demanded sharply. 
 
 "I thought you had finished your talk/' pro 
 tested the Judge. "Mr. Hallowell is anxious to 
 begin." 
 
 Winthrop turned and looked at Vera steadily. 
 For an instant the eyes of the girl faltered, and then 
 she returned his glance with one as resolute as his 
 own. As though accepting her verdict as final, 
 Winthrop walked quickly to the door. "I shall 
 be downstairs/' he said; "when this is over, let 
 me know." 
 
 Gaylor struggled to conceal his surprise and 
 satisfaction. "You won't be here for the seance ?" 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 "Certainly not," cried Winthrop. "I" He 
 broke off suddenly. Without again looking tow 
 ard Vera, or trying to hide his displeasure, he 
 left the room 
 
 Gaylor tui d to the girl. He was smiling 
 with relief. 
 
 "Excellent!" he muttered. "Excellent! What 
 was he saying to you," he asked eagerly, "as I 
 came in that you would fail ?" 
 
 138 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 The girl moved past him to the door. "Yes," 
 she answered dully. 
 
 "But you will not!" cried the man. "We're 
 all counting on you, you know. 'Destroy the 
 old will. Sign the new will/ " he quoted. He 
 came close to her and whispered: "That means 
 thousands of dollars to you and Vance," he urged. 
 
 The girl turned and regarded him with un 
 happy, angry eyes. 
 
 "You need not be frightened," she answered. 
 For the man before her and for herself, her voice 
 was bitter with contempt and self-accusation. 
 "Mr. Winthrop is mistaken. He does not know 
 me," she said miserably. " I shall not fail." 
 
 For a moment, after she had left him, Gaylor 
 stood motionless, his eyes filled with concern, and 
 then, with a shrug, as though accepting either good 
 or evil fortune, he called from the bedroom Mr. 
 Hallowell, and, from the floor below, the guests 
 of Hallowell and of Vance. 
 
 As Hallowell, supported by Rainey, sank into 
 the invalid's chair in the centre of the semicircle, 
 Gaylor made his final appeal. 
 
 "Stephen," he begged; "are you sure you're 
 feeling strong enough ? Won't some other 
 n i g ht " 
 
 The old man interrupted him querulously. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "No, now! I want it over," he commanded. 
 "Who knows," he complained, "how soon it 
 may be before " 
 
 The sight of Mannie entering the room with 
 Vance caused him to interrupt himself abruptly. 
 He greeted the showman with a curt nod. 
 
 "And who is this?" he demanded. 
 
 Mannie, to whom a living millionaire was 
 much more of a disturbing spectacle than the 
 ghost of Alexander the Great, retreated hastily 
 behind Vance. 
 
 "He is my assistant," Vance explained. "He 
 furnishes the music." He pushed Mannie toward 
 the organ. 
 
 "Music!" growled Hallowell. "Must there be 
 music ? " 
 
 "It is indispensable," protested Vance. "Music, 
 
 sir, is one of the strongest psychic influences. 
 j t 99 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Hallowell. "Tricks," he 
 muttered; "tricks!" 
 
 Vance shrugged his shoulders, and smiled in 
 deprecation. "I am sorry to find you in a scepti 
 cal mood, Mr. Hallowell," he murmured reprov 
 ingly. "It will hardly help to produce good re 
 sults. Allow me," he begged, "to present two true 
 believers." 
 
 140 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 With a wave of the hand he beckoned forward 
 a stout, gray-haired woman with bulging, near 
 sighted eyes that rolled meaninglessly behind 
 heavy gold spectacles. 
 
 "Mrs. Marsh, of Lynn, Massachusetts," pro 
 claimed Vance, "of whom you have heard. Mrs. 
 Marsh," he added, "is probably the first medium 
 in America. The results she has obtained are quite 
 wonderful. She alone foretold the San Francisco 
 earthquake, and the run on the Long Acre Square 
 Bank." 
 
 " I am glad to know you," said Mr. Hallowell. 
 "Pardon my not rising." 
 
 The old lady curtesied obsequiously. 
 
 "Oh, certainly, Mr. Hallowell," she protested. 
 "Mr. Hallowell," she went on, rolling the name 
 delightedly on her tongue, "I need not tell you 
 how greatly we spiritualists rejoice over your 
 joining the ranks of the believers." 
 
 Hallowell nodded. He was not altogether unim 
 pressed. "Thanks," he commented dryly. "But 
 I am not quite there yet, madam." 
 
 "We hope," said Vance sententiously, "to con 
 vince Mr. Hallowell to-night." 
 
 "And I am sure, Mr. Hallowell," cried the old 
 lady, "if any one can do it, little Miss Vera can. 
 Hers is a wonderful gift, sir, a wonderful gift!" 
 
 141 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say so," returned Hal- 
 lowell. 
 
 He nodded to her in dismissal, and turned to 
 the next visitor. "And this gentleman?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Professor Strombergk," announced Vance; 
 "the distinguished writer on psychic and occult 
 subjects, editor of The World Beyond" 
 
 A tall, full-bearded German, in a too-short 
 frock-coat, bowed awkwardly. Upon him, as 
 upon Mannie, had fallen the spell of the Halloweli 
 fortune. He, who chatted familiarly with departed 
 popes and emperors, who daily was in communi 
 cation with Goethe, Caesar, and Epictetus, thrilled 
 with embarrassment before the man who had 
 made millions from a coupling-pin. 
 
 "And Helen!" Mr. Halloweli cried, as Miss 
 Coates followed the Professor. "That is all, is 
 it not?" he asked. 
 
 Miss Coates moved aside to disclose the per 
 son of the reporter from the Republic, Homer Lee. 
 
 "I have taken you at your word, uncle," she 
 said; "and have brought a friend with me." 
 In some trepidation she added: 
 
 "He is Mr. Lee, a reporter fcom the Republic." 
 
 "A reporter!" exclaimed Mr. Halloweli. Dis 
 turbed and yet amused at the audacity of his 
 
 142 
 
'Professor Strombergk," announced Vance 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 niece, he shook his head reprovingly. "I don't 
 think I meant reporters," he remonstrated. 
 
 "You said in your note," returned his niece, 
 "that as I had so much at stake, I could bring 
 any one I pleased, and the less he believed in 
 spiritualism, the better. Mr. Lee," she added 
 dryly, "believes even less than I do." 
 
 "Then it will be all the more of a triumph, if 
 we convince him," declared Hallowell. "Under 
 stand, young man," he proclaimed loudly, "I 
 am not a spiritualist. I am merely conducting an 
 investigation. I want the truth. If you, or my 
 niece, detect any fraud to-night, I want to know 
 it." Including in his speech the others in the 
 room, he glared suspiciously in turn at each. 
 "Keep your eyes open," he ordered; "you will be 
 serving me quite as much as you will Miss Coates." 
 
 Miss Coates and Lee thanked him and, recog 
 nizing themselves as the opposition and in the 
 minority, withdrew for consultation into a corner 
 of the bay-window. 
 
 Vance approached Mr. Hallowell. 
 
 "If you are ready," he said, "we will examine 
 the cabinet. Shall I wheel it over here, or will 
 you look at it where it is ?" 
 
 " If it is to be in that corner during the seance," 
 declared Mr. Hallowell, "I'll look at it where it is." 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 As he struggled from his chair, he turned to 
 Mrs. Marsh, and nodded his head knowingly. 
 "You see, Mrs. Marsh," he said, "I am taking no 
 chances." 
 
 "That is quite right, Mr. Hallowell," purred the 
 old lady. " If there be any doubt in your mind, 
 you must get rid of it, or we will have no results." 
 
 With a dramatic gesture, Vance swept aside 
 from the opening in the cabinet the black velvet 
 curtain. "It's a simple affair," he said indiffer 
 ently. "As you see, it's open at the top and bot 
 tom. The medium sits inside on that chair, 
 bound hand and foot." 
 
 In turn, Mr. Hallowell, Mrs. Marsh, Gaylor, 
 Rainey, Professor Strombergk entered the cabi 
 net. With their knuckles they beat upon its sides. 
 They moved it to and fro. They dropped to their 
 knees, and with their fingers tugged at the carpet 
 upon which it stood. 
 
 Under cover of their questions, in the corner 
 of the bay-window, Miss Coates whispered to Lee: 
 
 "Don't look now," she warned, "but later, you 
 will see on the left of that door the switch that 
 throws on the lights. When I am sure she is 
 outside the cabinet, when she has told him not 
 to give the money to me, I'll cry, 'now!' and 
 whichever one of us is seated nearer to the switch 
 
 144 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 will turn on all the lights. I think," Miss Coates 
 added with, in her voice, a thrill of triumph not 
 altogether free from a touch of vindictiveness, 
 "when my uncle sees her caught in the middle of 
 the room, disguised as his sister we will have 
 cured him." 
 
 "It may be," said the man. 
 
 The possibility of success as Miss Coates pointed 
 it out did not appear to stir in him any great de 
 light. He glanced unwillingly over his shoulder. 
 "I see the switch," he said. 
 
 Leaning on the arm of Gaylor, Mr. Hallowell 
 returned from the cabinet to his chair. What 
 he had seen apparently strengthened his faith 
 and, in like degree, inspired him to greater en 
 thusiasm. 
 
 "Well," he exclaimed, "there are no trap 
 doors or false bottoms about that! If they can 
 project a spirit from that sentry box, it will be a 
 miracle. For whom are we waiting?" he asked 
 impatiently. "Where is Winthrop?" 
 
 Judge Gaylor explained that Winthrop preferred 
 to wait downstairs, and that he had said he would 
 remain there until the seance was finished. 
 
 "Afraid of compromising his position," com 
 mented the old man. "I'm sorry. I'd like to 
 have him here." He motioned Gaylor to bend 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 nearer. In a voice that trembled with eagerness 
 and excitement, he whispered : " Henry, I have a 
 feeling that we are going to witness a remarkable 
 phenomenon/' 
 
 Gaylor's countenance grew preternaturally 
 grave. He nodded heavily. 
 
 "I have the same feeling, Stephen," he re 
 turned. 
 
 Vance raised his hand to command silence. 
 
 "Every one," he called, "except the committee, 
 who are to bind and tie the medium, will take the 
 place I give him, and. remain in it. Mr. Day will 
 please acquaint Miss Vera and Mrs. Vance with 
 the fact that we are ready." 
 
 Up to this point Vance had appeared only as a 
 stage manager. He had been concerned with his 
 groupings, his lights; in assigning to his confeder 
 ates the parts they were to play. Now that the 
 curtain was to rise, as an actor puts on a wig and 
 grease paint, Vance assumed a certain voice and 
 manner. On the stage the critics would have 
 called him a convincing actor. He made his 
 audience believe what he believed. He knew the 
 eloquence of a pause, the value of a surprised, 
 unintelligible exclamation. One moment he was 
 as professionally solemn as a "funeral director"; 
 the next, his voice, his whole frame, would shake 
 
 146 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 with excitement, in an outburst of fanatic fervor. 
 As it pleased him he could play Hamlet, tenderly 
 shocked at the sight of his dead father, or Mac 
 beth, retreating in horror before the ghost of 
 Banquo. For the moment his manner was that 
 of the undertaker. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Hallowell," he said hoarsely, 
 "please to name those you wish to serve on the 
 
 committee." 
 
 Mr. Hallowell waved his arm to include every 
 one in the room. 
 
 "Everybody will serve on the committee/' he 
 declared. "Everything is to be open and above- 
 board. The whole city is welcome on the com 
 mittee. I want this to be above suspicion." 
 
 "That is my wish, also, sir," said Vance stiffly. 
 " But a committee of more than three is unwieldy. 
 Suppose you name two gentlemen and I one ? 
 Or," he shrugged his shoulders, "you can name 
 all three." 
 
 After a moment of consideration Mr. Hallowell 
 pointed at Lee. "I choose Mr. that young 
 man," he announced, "and Judge Gaylor." 
 
 "I would much rather not, Stephen," Judge 
 Gaylor whispered. 
 
 "I know, Henry," answered the other; "but I 
 ask it of you. It will give me confidence." He 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 turned to Vance. "You select some one " he 
 commanded. 
 
 With a bow, Vance designated the tall German. 
 
 "Will Professor Strombergk be acceptable?" 
 he asked. 
 
 Mr. Hallowell nodded. 
 
 "Then, the three gentlemen chosen will please 
 come to the cabinet." 
 
 Vance, his manner now that of a master of cere 
 monies, assigned to each person the seat he or she 
 was to occupy. Miss Coates with satisfaction 
 noted that only Mrs. Vance separated Lee from 
 the electric switch. 
 
 "I must ask you," said Vance, "to keep the 
 seats I have assigned to you. With us to-night 
 are both favorable and unfavorable influences. 
 And what I have tried to do in placing you, is to 
 obtain the best psychic results." He moved to the 
 door and looked into the hall, then turned, and 
 with uplifted arm silently demanded attention. 
 
 "Miss Vera," he announced. 
 
 Followed closely, like respectful courtiers, by 
 Mannie and Mrs. Vance, Vera appeared in the 
 doorway, walked a few feet into the room, and 
 stood motionless. As though already in a trance, 
 she moved slowly, without volition, like a som 
 nambulist. Her head was held high, but her 
 
 148 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 eyes were dull and unseeing. Her arms hung 
 limply. She wore an evening gown of soft black 
 stuff, that clung to her like a lace shawl, and which 
 left her throat and arms bare. In spite of the 
 clash of interests, of antagonism, of mutual dis 
 trust, there was no one present to whom the sight 
 of the young girl did not bring an uneasy thrill. 
 The nature of the thing she proposed to do, 
 contrasted with the loveliness of her face, which 
 seemed to mock at the possibility of deceit; 
 something in her rapt, distant gaze, in the 
 dignity of her uplifted head, in her air of com 
 plete detachment from her surroundings, caused 
 even the most sceptical to question if she might 
 not possess the power she claimed, to feel for a 
 moment the approach of the supernatural. 
 
 The voices of the committee, consulting together, 
 dropped suddenly to a whisper; the others were 
 instantly silent. 
 
 In his arms Mannie carried silken scarfs, cords, 
 and ropes. In each hand he held a teacup. One 
 contained flour, the other shot. Vance took these 
 from him, and Mannie hurriedly slipped into his 
 chair in front of the organ. 
 
 "Gentlemen," explained Vance, "you will use 
 these ropes and scarfs to tie the medium. Also, 
 as a further precaution against the least suspicion 
 
 149 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 of fraud, we will subject her to the most severe test 
 known. In one hand she will hold this flour; the 
 other will be filled with shot. This will make it 
 impossible for her to tamper with the ropes." 
 
 He gave the two cups to Gaylor, and turned to 
 Vera. 
 
 "Are you ready?" he asked. After a pause, 
 the girl slightly inclined her head. Lee, with one 
 of the scarfs in his hand, approached her diffident 
 ly. He looked unhappily at the slight, girlish 
 figure, at the fair white arms. In his embarrass 
 ment he appealed to Vance. 
 
 "How would you suggest ?" he asked. 
 
 Vance, apparently shocked, hastily drew away. 
 "That would be most irregular," he protested. 
 
 Apologetically Lee turned to the girl. 
 
 "Would you mind putting your arms behind 
 you?" he asked. He laced the scarf around her 
 aims, and drew it tightly to her wrists. 
 
 "Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured; but the 
 girl made no answer. To what was going for 
 ward she appeared as unmindful as though she 
 were an artist's manikin. 
 
 "Will you take these now?" asked Gaylor; 
 and into her open palms he poured the flour and 
 shot. "And, now," continued Lee, "will you go 
 into the cabinet ? " As she seated herself, he knelt 
 
 150 
 
"Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 in front of her and bound her ankles. From be 
 hind her Strombergk deftly wound the ropes about 
 her body and through the rungs and back of the 
 chair. 
 
 "Would you mind seeing if you can withdraw 
 your arms?" Lee asked. The girl raised her 
 shoulders, struggled to free her hands, and tried 
 to rise. But the efforts were futile. 
 
 "Are the gentlemen satisfied?" demanded 
 Vance. 
 
 The three men, who had shown but little heart 
 in the work, and who were now red and em 
 barrassed, hastily answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " If you are satisfied the ropes are securely fas 
 tened," Vance continued, "you will take your 
 seats." Professor Strombergk, as he moved to 
 his chair, announced in devout, solemn tones: 
 "Nothing but spirit hands can move those ropes 
 
 now." 
 
 From the organ rose softly the prelude to a 
 Moody and Sankey hymn, and, in keeping with 
 the music, the voice of Vance sank to a low tone. 
 
 "We will now," he said, "establish the mag 
 netic chain. Each person will take with his right 
 hand the left wrist of the person on his or her 
 right." He paused while this order was being 
 carried into effect. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Before I turn out the lights," he continued, 
 " I wish to say a last word to any sceptic who may 
 be present. I warn him that any attempt to lay 
 violent hands upon the apparition, or spirit, may 
 cost the medium her life. From the cabinet the 
 medium projects the spirit into the circle. An 
 attack upon the spirit, is an attack upon the me 
 dium. There are three or four well-authenticated 
 cases where the disembodied spirit was cut off 
 from the cabinet, and the medium died." 
 
 He drew the velvet curtains across the cabinet, 
 and shut Vera from view. "Are you ready, Mr. 
 Hallowell?" he asked. Mr. Hallowell, his eyes 
 staring, his lips parted, nodded his head. The 
 music grew louder. Vance switched off the lights. 
 
 For some minutes, except for the creaking of 
 the pedals of the organ and the low throb of the 
 music, there was no sound. Then, from his posi 
 tion at the open door, the voice of Vance com 
 manded sternly: "No whispering, please. The 
 medium is susceptible to the least sound." There 
 was another longer pause, until in hushed ex 
 pectant tones Vance spoke again. "The air is 
 very heavily charged with electricity to-night," 
 he said. "You, Mrs. Marsh, should feel that?" 
 
 "I do, Professor," murmured the medium; "I 
 do. We shall have some wonderful results!" 
 
 152 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 Vance agreed with her solemnly. "I feel in 
 fluences all about me," he murmured. 
 
 There came suddenly from the cabinet three 
 sharp raps. These were instantly answered by 
 other quick rappings upon the library table. 
 "They are beginning!" chanted the voice of 
 Vance. The music of the organ ceased. It was 
 at once followed by the notes of a guitar that 
 seemed to float in space, the strings vibrating, not 
 as though touched by human hands, but in fitful, 
 meaningless chords like those of an ^olian harp. 
 
 "That is Kiowa, your control, Mrs. Marsh," 
 announced Vance eagerly. "Do you desire to 
 speak to him?" 
 
 "Not to-night," Mrs. Marsh answered. She 
 raised her voice. "Not to-night, Kiowa," she re 
 peated. "Thank you for coming. Good-night." 
 
 In deep, guttural accents, a man's voice came 
 from the ceiling. "Good-night," it called. With 
 a final, ringing wail, the music of the guitar sud 
 denly ceased. 
 
 Again rose the swelling low notes of the organ. 
 Above it came the quick pattering of footsteps. 
 
 The voice of Rainey, filled with alarm, cried, 
 "Some one touched me!" 
 
 "Are you sure your hands are held ?" demanded 
 Vance reprovingly. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Yes," panted Rainey; "both of them. But 
 something put its hand on my forehead. It was 
 cold." 
 
 In an excited whisper, a voice in the circle cried, 
 "Look, look!" and before the eyes of all, a star 
 rose in the darkness. For a moment it wavered 
 over the cabinet and then fluttered swiftly across 
 the room and remained stationary above the head 
 of the German Professor. 
 
 ' There is your star, Professor," cried Vance. 
 "When the Professor is in the circle," he 
 announced proudly, "that star always ap 
 pears." 
 
 He was interrupted by a startled exclamation 
 from Lee. 
 
 "Something touched my face," explained the 
 young man apologetically, "and spoke to me." 
 
 The music sank to a murmur, and the room 
 became alive with swift, rushing sounds and soft 
 whisperings. 
 
 The voice of Mrs. Marsh, low and eager, could 
 be heard appealing to an invisible presence. 
 
 "The results are marvellous," chanted Vance; 
 "marvellous! The medium is showing wonder 
 ful power. If any one desires to ask a question, he 
 should do so now. The conditions will never be 
 better." He paused expectantly. "Mr. Hallo- 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 well," he prompted, "is it your wish to communi 
 cate with any one in the spirit-world ? " 
 
 There was a long pause, and then the voice of 
 Mr. Hallowell, harsh and shaken, answered, 
 "Yes." 
 
 "With whom?" demanded Vance. 
 
 There was again another longer pause, and 
 then, above the confusion of soft whisperings, 
 the voice of the old man rose in sharp staccato: 
 
 "My sister, Catherine Coates." His tone har 
 dened, became obdurate, final. " But, I must see 
 her, and hear her speak!" 
 
 Norfor an instant did Vance hesitate. Intense, 
 sepulchral tones, he demanded of the darkness, 
 "Is the spirit of Catherine Coates present?" 
 
 The whisperings and murmurs ceased. The 
 silence of the room was broken sharply by three 
 quick raps. "Yes," intoned Vance; "she is 
 present." 
 
 The voice of Hallowell protested fiercely. "I 
 won't have that! I want to see her!" 
 
 In the tone of an incantation, Vance spoke 
 again. "Will the spirit show herself to her broth 
 er?" The raps came quickly, firmly. 
 
 "She answers she will appear before you." 
 
 There was a moment that seemed to stretch 
 interminably, and then, the eyes of all, straining in 
 
 I 55 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 the darkness, saw against the black velvet cur 
 tain a splash of white. 
 
 As it moved toward them it took shape, and by 
 the faint light that came through the curtains 
 from the hall, they distinguished the bent figure 
 of a woman, apparently an old woman with a 
 white cap and white hair, and across her shoulders 
 a white kerchief. 
 
 Above the sobbing of the organ, the voice of 
 Mr. Hallowell rang out in a sharp exclamation 
 of terror. "Who is that!" he demanded. He 
 spoke as though he dreaded the answer. He 
 threw himself forward in his chair, peering into 
 the darkness. 
 
 "Is that you, Kate?" he whispered. His voice 
 was both incredulous and pleading. The answer 
 came in feeble, trembling tones. "Yes." 
 
 The voice of Hallowell shook with eagerness. 
 
 "Do you know me, your brother, Stephen ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 With a cry the old man fell back, groping 
 blindly. He found Gaylor's arm and clutched it 
 with both hands. 
 
 "My God! It's Kate!" he gasped. "I tell 
 you, Henry, it is Kate!" 
 
 The voice of Vance, deep and hollow like a 
 bell, sounded a note of warning. " Speak quickly," 
 
 156 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 he commanded. "Her time on earth is brief." 
 Mr. Hallowell's hold upon the arm of his friend 
 relaxed. Fearfully and slowly, he bent forward. 
 
 "Kate!" he pleaded; "I must ask you a ques 
 tion. No one else can tell me." As though gath 
 ering courage, he paused, and, with a frightened 
 sigh, again began. "I am an old man," he mur 
 mured; "a sick man. I will be joining you very 
 soon. What am I to do with my money ? I have 
 made great plans to give it to the poor. Or, must 
 I give it, as I have given it in my will, to Helen ? 
 Perhaps I did not act fairly to you and Helen. 
 You know what I mean. She would be rich, but 
 then the poor would be that much the poorer." 
 The confidence of the speaker was increasing; as 
 though to a living being, he argued and pleaded. 
 "And I want to do some good before I go. What 
 shall I do ? Tell me." 
 
 There was a pause that lasted so long that those 
 who had held their breath to listen, again breathed 
 deeply. When the answer came, it was strangely 
 deprecatory, uncertain, unassured. 
 
 "You," stammered the voice, "you must have 
 courage to do what you know to be just!" 
 
 For a brief moment, as though surprised, Mr. 
 Hallowell apparently considered this; and then 
 gave an exclamation of disappointment and distress. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "But I don't know," he protested; "that is why 
 I called on you. I want to go into the next world, 
 Kate," he pleaded, "with clean hands!" 
 
 This time the answer came more firmly. But 
 it was still without feeling, without conviction. 
 
 "You cannot bribe your way into the next 
 world," intoned the voice. "If you pity the 
 poor, you must help the poor, not that you may 
 cheat your way into heaven, but that they may 
 suffer less. Search your conscience. Have the 
 courage of your conscience." 
 
 "I don't want to consult my conscience," cried 
 the old man. "I want you to tell me." He 
 paused, hesitating. Eager to press his question, 
 his awe of the apparition still restrained him. 
 
 "What do you mean, Kate?" he begged. 
 "Am I to give the money where it will do the most 
 good to the Hallowell Institute, or am I to give 
 it to Helen ? Which am I to do ? " 
 
 There was another long silence, and then the 
 voice stammered: "If if you have wronged me, 
 or my daughter, or the poor, you must make 
 
 restitution." 
 
 The hand of the old man was heard to fall 
 heavily upon the arm of his chair. His voice rose 
 unhappily. 
 
 "That is no answer, Kate!" he cried. "Did 
 158 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 you come from the dead to preach to me? Tell 
 me what am I to do leave my money to Helen, 
 or to the Institute ? " 
 
 The cry of the old man vibrated in the air. No 
 voice rose to answer. "Kate!" he entreated. 
 Still there was silence. "Speak to me!" he com 
 manded. The silence became eloquent with mo 
 mentous possibilities. So long did it endure, that 
 the pain of the suspense was actual. The voice 
 of Rainey, choked and hoarse with fear, broke it 
 with an exclamation that held the sound of an 
 oath. He muttered thickly, "What in the name 
 of 
 
 He was hushed by a swift chorus of hisses. 
 The voice of Hallowell was again uplifted. 
 
 "Why won't she answer me?" he begged 
 hysterically of Vance. "Can't you can't the 
 medium make her speak?" 
 
 During the last few moments the music from 
 the organ had come brokenly. The hands upon 
 the keys moved unsteadily, drunkenly. Now 
 they halted altogether and in the middle of a 
 chord the music sank and died. Upon the now 
 absolute silence the voice of Vance, when he 
 spoke, sounded strangely unfamiliar. It had lost 
 the priest-like intonation. Its confidence had de 
 parted. It showed bewilderment and alarm. 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "I I don't understand," stammered the show 
 man. "Ask her again. Put your question differ 
 ently." 
 
 Carefully, slowly, giving each word its value, 
 Mr. Hallowell raised his voice in entreaty. 
 
 "Kate," he cried, "I have made a new will, 
 leaving the money to the poor. The old will gives 
 it to Helen. Shall I sign the new will or not ? 
 Shall I give the money to Helen, or the Institute ? 
 Answer me! Yes, or no." 
 
 Before the eyes of all, the apparition, as though 
 retreating to the cabinet, swayed backward, then 
 staggered forward. There was a sob, human, 
 heart-broken; a cry, thrilling with distress; a 
 tumult of weeping, fierce and uncontrollable. 
 
 They saw the figure tear away the white ker 
 chief and cap, and trample them upon the floor. 
 They saw the figure hold itself erect. From it, 
 the voice of Vera cried aloud, in despair: 
 
 "I can't! I can't!" she sobbed. "It's a lie! 
 I am not your sister! Turn on the lights," the 
 girl cried. "Turn on the lights!'* 
 
 There was a crash of upturned chairs, the sound 
 of men struggling, and the room was swept with 
 light. In the doorway Winthrop was holding 
 apart Vance and the reporter. 
 
 In the centre of the room stood Vera, her head 
 160 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 bent in shame, her body shaken and trembling, 
 her hair streaming to her waist. 
 
 As though to punish herself, by putting a climax 
 to her humiliation, she held out her arms to Helen 
 Coates. "You see," she cried; "I am a cheat. 
 I am a fraud!" She sank suddenly to her knees 
 in front of Mr. Hallowell. "Forgive me," she 
 sobbed; "forgive me!" 
 
 With a cry of angry protest, Winthrop ran to 
 her, and lifted her to her feet. His eyes were 
 filled with pity. But in the eyes of Mr. Hallowell 
 there was no promise of pardon. With sudden 
 strength he struggled to his feet and stood swaying, 
 challenging those before him. His face was white 
 with anger, his jaw closed against mercy. 
 
 "You've lied to me!" he cried. "You've tried 
 to rob me!" He swept the room with his eyes. 
 With a flash of intuition, he saw the trap they had 
 laid for him. " All of you ! " he screamed. " It's 
 a plot!" He shook his fist at the weeping girl. 
 "And you!" he shouted hysterically; "the law 
 shall punish you!" 
 
 Winthrop drew the girl to him and put his arm 
 about her. 
 
 "I'll do the punishing here," he said. 
 
 With a glad, welcoming cry, the old man turned 
 to him appealingly, wildly. 
 
 161 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 "Yes, you!" he shouted. "You punish them! 
 She plotted to get my money." 
 
 The girl at Winthrop's side shivered, and 
 shrank from him. He drew her back roughly 
 and held her close. The sobs that shook her tore 
 at his heart; the touch of the sinking, trembling 
 body in his arms rilled him with fierce, jubilant 
 thoughts of keeping the girl there always, of giving 
 battle for her, of sheltering her against the world. 
 In what she had done he saw only a sacrifice. In 
 her he beheld only a penitent, who was self- 
 accused and self-convicted. 
 
 He heard the voice of the old man screaming 
 vindictively: "She plotted to get my money!" 
 
 Winthrop turned upon him savagely. 
 
 "How did you plot to get it?" he retorted 
 fiercely. "You know, and I know. I know how 
 your lawyer, your doctor, your servant plotted to 
 get it!" His voice rose and rang with indignation. 
 "You all plotted, and you all schemed and to 
 what end what was the result ?" he held before 
 them the fainting figure of the girl "That one 
 poor child could prove she was honest!" 
 
 With his arms still about her, and her hands 
 clinging to him, he moved with her quickly to the 
 door. When they had reached the silence of the 
 hall, he took her hands in his, and looked into her 
 
 162 
 
Vera, the Medium 
 
 eyes. "Now," he commanded, "you shall come 
 to my sisters!" 
 
 The waiting car carried them swiftly up the 
 avenue. Their way lay through the park, and 
 the warm, mid-summer air was heavy with the 
 odor of plants and shrubs. Above them the 
 trees drooped deep with leaves. Vera, crouched 
 in a corner, had not spoken. Her eyes were hidden 
 in her hands. But when they had entered the 
 silent reaches of the park she lowered them and 
 the face she lifted to Winthrop was pale and wet 
 with tears. The man thought never before had 
 he seen it more lovely or more lovable. Vera 
 shook her head dumbly and looked up at him 
 with a troubled smile. 
 
 "I told you," she murmured remorsefully, 
 "you'd be sorry." 
 
 "We don't know that yet," said Winthrop 
 gently; "we'll have all the rest of our lives to find 
 that out." 
 
 Startled, the girl drew back. In her face was 
 wonder, amazement, a dawning happiness. 
 
 Without speaking, Winthrop looked at her, en- 
 treatingly, pitifully, beseeching her with his eyes. 
 
 Slowly the girl bent forward and, as he threw 
 out his arms, with a little sigh of rest and content 
 she crept into them and pressed her face to his. 
 
'MISS CIVILIZATION* 
 
 A COMEDY IN ONE ACT 
 
 ***-MKB CmuftraoM- is landed on m star by the bte JAMS HAKTKT 
 All piofca6ionAl rights in dus pfay belong to RKHAKD HAWOTBR DATE. 
 Amateurs who desire to produce - Miss CmurAnoct" may do so, ptmid^ they 
 apply for permission to the editor of C<Bier's WrrUy, in whkh pobikatkn this play 
 
PEOPLE IN THE PLAY 
 
 ALICE GARDNER, daughter of James K. Gardner, Presi 
 dent of the L. I. & W. Railroad 
 
 UNCLE" JOSEPH HATCH, alias "Gentleman Joe" 
 BRICK" MEAKIN, alias "Reddy, the Kid" 
 HARRY HAYES, alias "Grand Stand" Harry 
 CAPTAIN LUCAS, Chief of Police 
 
 POLICEMEN, BRAKEMEN, ENGINEERS 
 
 166 
 
"MISS CIVILIZATION" 
 
 SCENE. The dining-room in the country house of James 
 K. Gardner on Long Island. In the back wall is 
 a double doorway opening into a hall. A curtain 
 divided in the middle hangs across the entrance. 
 On the wall on either side of the doorway are two 
 electric lights, and to the left is a telephone. Fur 
 ther to the left is a sideboard. On it are set silver 
 salvers, candlesticks, and Christmas presents of 
 silver. They still are in the red flannel bags in 
 which they arrived. In the left wall is a recessed 
 window hung with curtains. Against the right 
 wall is a buffet on which is set a tea-caddy, toast- 
 rack, and tea-kettle. Below the buffet a door opens 
 into the butler's pantry. A dinner-table stands well 
 down the stage with a chair at each end and on 
 either side. Two chairs are set against the back 
 wall to the right of the door. The walls and win 
 dows are decorated with holly and mistletoe and 
 Christmas wreaths tied with bows of scarlet rib 
 bon. When the window is opened there is a view of 
 falling snow. At first the room is in complete dark 
 ness. 
 
 The time is the day after Christmas, near midnight. 
 
 167 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 After the curtain rises one hears the noise of a file scrap 
 ing on iron. It comes apparently from outside the 
 house at a point distant from the dining-room. 
 The filing is repeated cautiously, with a wait between 
 each stroke, as though the person using the file 
 had paused to listen. 
 
 ALICE GARDNER enters at centre, carrying a lighted 
 candle in a silver candlestick. She wears a dressing- 
 gown, with swan's-down around her throat and at 
 the edges of her sleeves. Her feet are in bed-room 
 slippers topped with fur. Her hair hangs down in 
 a braid. After listening intently to the sound of 
 the file, she places candle on sideboard and goes 
 to telephone. She speaks in a whisper. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Hello, Central. Hello, Central. (Impatiently.) 
 Wake up ! Wake up ! Is that you, Central ? 
 Give me the station agent at Bedford Junction 
 quick. What? I cant speak louder. Well, 
 you must hear me. Give me the station agent at 
 Bedford Junction. No, there's always a man 
 there all night. Hurry, please, hurry. (There 
 Is a pause, during which the sound of the file grows 
 louder. ALICE listens apprehensively.) Hello, 
 are you the station agent? Good! Listen! I 
 am Miss Gardner, James K. Gardner's daughter. 
 
 168 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 Yes, James K. Gardner, the president of the road. 
 This is his house. My mother and I are here 
 alone. There are three men trying to break in. 
 Yes, burglars, of course. My mother is very ill. 
 If they frighten her the shock might might be very 
 serious. Wake up the crew, and send the wreck 
 ing train here at once. Send the crew of 
 the wrecking train here quick. What ? Then 
 fire up an engine and get it here as fast as you can. 
 
 VOICE (calling from second story) 
 Alice! 
 
 ALICE (at telephone) 
 
 Yes, you have. The up-track's clear until 
 "52" comes along. That's not until 
 
 VOICE (louder) 
 Alice! 
 
 ALICE (with dismay) 
 
 Mother! (At telephoned) Hello, hold the 
 wire. Don't go away! (Runs to curtains, parts 
 
 169 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 them, and looks up as though speaking to some one 
 at top of stairs.) Mother, why arent you in 
 bed? 
 
 VOICE 
 Is anything wrong, Alice ? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No, dear, no. I just came down to get a 
 book I forgot. Please go back, dearest. 
 
 VOICE 
 
 I heard you moving about, I thought you 
 might be ill. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No, dearest, but you II be very ill if you don't 
 keep in bed. Please, mother at once. It's all 
 right, it's all right. 
 
 VOICE 
 
 Yes, dear. Good-night. 
 170 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 ALICE 
 
 Good-night, mother. (Returns quickly to 
 telephone^) Hello! Hello! Stop the engine at 
 the foot of our lawn. Yes, yes, at the foot of our 
 lawn. And when you have the house surrounded, 
 when the men are all around the house, blow 
 three whistles so I'll know you're here. What? 
 Oh, that's all right. The burglars will be here. 
 /'// see to that. All you have to do is to get here. 
 If you don't, you'll lose your job! I say, if you 
 don't, you'll lose your job, or I'm not the daughter 
 of the president of this road. Now, you jump! 
 And wait hello (Turns from telephone.) He's 
 jumped. 
 
 (The file is now drawn harshly across the bolt of the 
 window of the dining-room, and a piece of wood 
 snaps. With an exclamation, ALICE blows out the 
 candle and exits. The shutters of the windows are 
 opened, admitting the faint glow of moonlight. 
 The window is raised and the ray of a dark-lantern 
 is swept about the room. HATCH appears at win 
 dow and puts one leg inside. He is an elderly man 
 wearing a mask which hides the upper half of 
 his face, a heavy overcoat, and a derby hat. But 
 for the mask he might be mistaken for a respecta 
 ble man of business. A pane of glass falls from the 
 window and breaks on the sill.) 
 171 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HATCH (speaking over his shoulder) 
 
 Hush! Be careful, can't you ? (He enters. He 
 is followed by "GRAND STAND" HARRY, a 
 younger man of sporting appearance. He also 
 wears a mask, and the brim of his gray Alpine 
 hat is pulled over his eyes. Around his throat he 
 wears a heavy silk muffler.) It's all right. Come 
 on. Hurry up, and close those shutters. 
 
 HARRY (to REDDY outside) 
 
 Give me the bag, Reddy. (REDDY appears at 
 window. He is dressed like a Bowery tough. His 
 face is blackened with burnt cork. His hair is of 
 a brilliant red. He wears an engineer 9 s silk cap 
 with visor. To HARRY he passes a half-filled can 
 vas bag. On his shoulder he carries another. On 
 entering he slips and falls forward on the floor) 
 
 HATCH 
 Confound you! 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Hush, you fool. 
 
 172 
 
"Miss Civilization'' 
 
 HATCH 
 Has he broken anything ? 
 
 REDDY (on floor, rubbing his head) 
 I've broke my head. 
 
 HATCH 
 That's no loss. Has he smashed that silver ? 
 
 HARRY (feeling in bag) 
 
 It feels all right. (HATCH cautiously parts 
 curtains at centre and exits into hall.) 
 
 REDDY (lifts bag) 
 
 We got enough stuff in this bag already with 
 out wasting time on another house. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Wasting time! Time's money in this house. 
 Look at this silver. That's the beauty of work 
 ing the night after Christmas; everybody's pres 
 ents is lying about loose, and everybody's too 
 
Ink M ihm 
 
 ^numpt 
 
 * ***^ V^^Wr^ 
 
 Well, I can't make a meal out of silver ice 
 pitcher*, can I ? I've been through three refrig 
 erators to-night, and nothing in any of r em but 
 bottle* of m//*/ 
 
 HARRY 
 Get up, get up, get to work. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 The folki in this town are the stingiest I ever 
 ee. / won't visit 'em again, no matter how often 
 they ask me. (Rising and crossing to buffet.} I 
 wonder if these folks is vegetarians, too. (HATCH 
 enters.) 
 
 174 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HATCH 
 
 It seems all right. There's no light, and every 
 body's quiet. (To HARRY.) You work the bed 
 rooms. I'll clear away those things. Don't be 
 rough, now. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 I know my business. Give me the light. 
 (Takes lantern and exits centre.) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Hist, Reddy. Reddy, leave that alone. That's 
 not safe. (Removes silver from sideboard to bag.) 
 
 REDDY 
 
 I know it ain't, governor. I'm lookin' for 
 somethin' to eat. (He kneels in front of buffet, 
 and opens door) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 No, you're not! You're not here to eat. Come 
 and give me a hand with this stuff. 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 REDDY 
 
 Gee! I've found a bottle of whiskey. (Takes 
 bottle from buffet and begins to pull at the cork) 
 
 HATCH 
 Well, you put it right back where you found it. 
 
 REDDY 
 I know a better place than that to put it. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 How many times have I told you I'll not let 
 you drink in business hours ? 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Oh, just once, governor; it's a cruel, cold 
 night. (Coughs) I need it for medicine. 
 
 HATCH 
 No, I tell you! 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Just one dose. Here's to you. (Drinks.) Oh, 
 Lord! (He sputters and coughs violently) 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HATCH (starts toward htm) 
 Hush! Stop that, you fool. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Oh, I'm poisoned! That's benzine, governor. 
 What do you think of that? Benzine! It's 
 burned me throat out 
 
 HATCH 
 
 I wish it had burned your tongue out! Can't 
 you keep still ? 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! Think of a man puttin' 
 benzine in a whiskey bottle! That's dishonest, 
 that is. Using a revenue stamp twice is defraudin' 
 the Government. I could have him arrested for 
 that. (Pause.) If I wanted to. (Pause.) But 
 I don't want to. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Oh, quit that and come here. Get out the 
 window, and I'll hand the bag to you. Put it 
 under the seat of the wagon, and cover it up with 
 
 177 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 the lap robe. (REDDY steps to centre door and, 
 parting the curtains, leans into the hall beyond, 
 listening) 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Go slow. I ain't to leave here till Harry is safe 
 on the ground floor again. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Don't you worry about Harry. He won't get 
 into trouble. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Sure he won't. It's me and you he'll get into 
 trouble. You hadn't ought to send him to do 
 second-story work. 
 
 HATCH (contemptuously) 
 
 No? 
 
 REDDY 
 
 No; he's too tender-hearted. A second-story 
 worker ought to use his gun. 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 HATCH 
 
 Oh, you! You'll fire your gun too often some 
 day. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 No, I won't. I did once, but I didn't do it 
 again for six years. But Harry ah, he's too 
 tender-hearted. If Harry was a chicken thief, 
 before he'd wring a chicken's neck he'd give it 
 laughing-gas. Why, you remember the lady 
 that woke up and begged him to give her back 
 a gold watch because it belonged to her little girl 
 who was dead. Well it turned out the little 
 girl wasn't dead. It turned out the little girl 
 was a big boy, alive and kicking especially kick 
 ing. He kicked me into a rose-bush. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 That'll do. Harry's learning his trade. He'll 
 pick it up in time. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 About time he picked up something. Remem 
 ber the Gainesville Bank; where he went away 
 
 179 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 leaving ten thousand dollars in the back of the 
 safe. Why didn't he pick that up ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Because it wasn't there. Bank directors al 
 ways say that to make us feel bad. Hush! 
 (HARRY enters, carrying his silk muffler, which 
 now is wrapped about a collection of jewels and 
 watches) 
 
 HATCH 
 That's quick work. What did you get ? 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Some neck strings, and rings, and two 
 watches. (He spreads the muffler on the table. 
 The three men examine the jewelry) 
 
 HATCH 
 That looks good. Who's up there ? 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Only an old lady and a young girl in the room 
 over this. And she's a beauty, too. (Sentiment- 
 
 180 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 ally.) Sleeping there just as sweet and peace- 
 ful 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Ah, why don't you give her back her watch ? 
 Maybe she's another dead daughter. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 That's all right, Harry. That's good stuff. 
 Pick up that bag, Reddy. We can go now. 
 (HARRY places muffler and jewels in an inside 
 coat pocket. REDDY takes up the dark-lantern.) 
 
 REDDY 
 Go ? Not till I've got something to eat. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 No, you don't. You can wait till later for 
 something to eat. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Yes, I can wait till later for something to eat, 
 but I can wait better if I eat now. (Exit into 
 pantry) 
 
 181 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 HATCH 
 
 Confound him. If I knew the roads around 
 here as well as he does, I'd drive off and leave 
 him. That appetite of his will send us to jail 
 some day. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Well, to tell the truth, governor, a little supper 
 wouldn't hurt my feelings. (Goes to buffet.) I 
 wonder where old man Gardner keeps his Ha- 
 vanas ? I'd like a Christmas present of a box of 
 cigars. Are there any over here ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 I didn't look. I gave up robbing tills when I was 
 quite a boy. (Carries bag toward window and 
 looks out.) 
 
 HARRY (takes box of cigars from buffet) 
 
 Ah, here they are. (With disgust.) Domes 
 tics! What do you think of that? Made in 
 Vermont. The "Admiral Dewey" cigar. Gee! 
 What was the use of Dewey's taking Manila, 
 if I've got to smoke Vermont cigars ? (REDDY 
 enters, carrying tray with fcod and a bottle.) 
 
 182 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Say, fellers, look at this layout. These is real 
 people in this house. I found cold birds, and 
 ham, and all kinds of pie, and real wine. (Places 
 tray on right end of table.) Sit down, and make 
 yourselves perfectly at home. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Well, well, that does look good. (Places box 
 of cigars at upper end of table, and seats himself.) 
 Better have a bite, governor. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 No, I tell you. (He sits angrily in chair at 
 left end of table, with his face turned toward the 
 curtains) 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Oh, come on. It don't cost you nothing. 
 (The light from the "candle is seen approaching the 
 curtains) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Hush! Look there! (He rises, lifting his 
 above his head, and advances on tiptoe to 
 
 183 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 right of curtains, where he stands with the chair 
 raised as though to strike. HARRY points re 
 volver at curtains. REDDY shifts the lantern to 
 his left hand and, standing close to HARRY, also 
 points a revolver. ALICE appears between cur 
 tains. She is dressed as before, and in her left hand 
 carries the candle, while the forefinger of her 
 right hand is held warningly to her lips. For 
 an instant she pauses, in the ring of light from the 
 lantern) 
 
 ALICE (whispering) 
 
 Hush! Don't make a noise. Don't make a 
 noise, please. (There is a long pause.) 
 
 REDDY 
 Well, I'll be hung! 
 
 ALICE (to REDDY) 
 Please don't make a noise. 
 
 HATCH (in a threatening whisper) 
 
 Don't you make a noise. 
 184 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 ALICE 
 
 I don't mean to. My mother is asleep up 
 stairs and she is very ill. And I don't want to 
 wake her and I don't want you to wake her, 
 either. 
 
 REDDY 
 Well, I'll be hung! 
 
 HATCH (angrily) 
 Who else is in this house ? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No one but mother and the maid-servants, and 
 they're asleep. You woke me, and I hoped 
 you'd go without disturbing mother. But when 
 you started in making a night of it, I decided 
 I'd better come down and ask you to be as quiet 
 as possible. My mother is not at all well. (Takes 
 cigar box off tabled) Excuse me; you've got the 
 wrong cigars. Those are the cigars father keeps 
 for his friends. Those he smokes he hides over 
 here. (Places box on buffet and takes out a larger 
 box, with partitions for cigars, matches, and 
 cigarettes. As she moves about, REDDY 
 
 185 
 
"Miss Civilization " 
 
 her well in the light of the lantern) Try those. 
 I'm afraid you've a very poor supper. When 
 father is away, we have such a small family. I 
 can't see what you've Would you mind taking 
 that light out of my eyes, and pointing it at that 
 tray ? 
 
 HATCH (sharply) 
 Don't you do it. Keep the gun on her. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Oh, I don't mind his pointing the gun at me, 
 so long as he does not point that light at me. It's 
 most embarrassing. (Sternly) Turn it down 
 there, please. (REDDY lets light fall on tray) 
 Why, that's cooking sherry you've got. You can't 
 drink that ! Let me get you some whiskey. 
 
 REDDY (covering her with lantern) 
 
 No, you don't. That's not whiskey. It's 
 benzine. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 You don't mean to say that that benzine bot 
 tle is there still? I told Jane to take it away. 
 
 186 
 
"Miss Civilization " 
 
 REDDY (dryly) 
 Well, Jane didn't do it. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Now, isn't that just like Jane ? I told her it 
 might set fire to the house and burn us alive. 
 
 REDDY 
 It nearly burned me alive. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 I'm so sorry. (Takes from buffet a tray hold 
 ing whiskey bottle, siphon, and three glasses) 
 Here, this is what you want. But, perhaps, you 
 don't like Scotch. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Don't you touch that, Reddy. (Returns to 
 chair at left of table.) 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Why not ? 
 
 187 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 ALICE (pours whiskey into a glass) 
 
 Yes; why not ? It's not poison. There's 
 nothing wrong with this bottle. If you're afraid, 
 I'll prove it to you. Just to show you there's not 
 a trace of hard feelings. (Drinks and coughs vio 
 lently?) 
 
 REDDY (sympathetically) 
 She's got the benzine bottle, too. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No. I'm not quite used to that. (To HARRY.) 
 Excuse me, but aren't you getting tired holding 
 that big pistol ? Don't you think you might 
 put it down now, and help me serve this supper ? 
 (HARRY does not move.) No ? Well, then, let 
 the colored gentleman help me. (HARRY and 
 REDDY wheel sharply, each pointing his revolver.) 
 
 REDDY 
 Colored man! Where? 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Colored man! It's a trap! (Seeing no one 9 
 they turn.) 
 
 188 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 ALICE (to REDDY) 
 Oh, pardon me. Aren't you a colored person ? 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Me! Colored ? You never see a colored man 
 with hair like that, did you ? (Points lantern at 
 his head.} This isn't my real face, lady. Why, 
 out of office hours, I've a complexion like cream 
 and roses. (Indignantly.) Colored man! 
 
 ALICE 
 
 I beg your pardon, but I can't see very well. 
 Don't you think it would be more cheerful if 
 we had a little more light ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 No! (To REDDY.) Drop that. We've got 
 to go. (To ALICE.) And before we go, I've 
 got to fix you. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Fix me how "fix" me? 
 189 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 HATCH 
 
 I'm sorry, miss, but it's your own fault. You 
 shouldn't have tried to see us. Now that you 
 have, before we leave, I've got to tie you to a 
 chair and gag you. 
 
 ALICE 
 Oh, really all of that ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 I can't have you raising the neighborhood until 
 we get well away. 
 
 ALICE 
 I see. But gagged I'll look so foolish. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Well, there's no hurry. We won't get well away 
 until I've had something to eat. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Quite right. (To HATCH.) You can tie me 
 in a chair later, Mr. . But now you must 
 
 190 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 remember that I am your hostess. (To REDDY.) 
 You'll find plates in the pantry, please. 
 
 REDDY 
 Oh, I don't use them things. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 You'll use "them things" when you eat with 
 me. Go, do as I tell you, please. (REDDY 
 exits.} And you put away that silly gun and 
 help him. 
 
 HATCH 
 Stay where you are. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 Oh, what's the rush, governor ? She can't 
 hurt nobody. And I'm near starved, too. (Exit 
 into pantry?) 
 
 HATCH 
 This is the last time I take you out. 
 
 101 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 ALICE (arranging the food upon the table) 
 
 Now, why are you so peevish to everybody ? 
 Why don't you be sociable, and take some sup 
 per ? (Glances at sideboard.) You seem to have 
 taken everything else. Oh, that reminds me. 
 Would you object to loaning me about four, six 
 about six of our knives and forks ? Just for 
 this supper. I suppose we can borrow from the 
 neighbors for breakfast. Unless you've been call 
 ing on the neighbors, too. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Oh, anything to oblige a lady. (Threateningly) 
 But no tricks, now! 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Oh, I can't promise that, because I mightn't 
 be able to keep my promise. (HATCH brings 
 silver knives and forks from the bag) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 I'll risk all the tricks you know. Nobody's 
 got much the better of me in the last twenty 
 years. 
 
 192 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 ALICE 
 
 Have you been a burglar twenty years ? You 
 must have begun very young. I can't see your 
 face very well, but I shouldn't say you were 
 over forty. Do take that mask off. It looks 
 so unsociable. Don't be afraid of me. I've a 
 perfectly shocking memory for faces. Now, I'm 
 sure that under that unbecoming and terrifying 
 exterior you are hiding a kind and fatherly coun 
 tenance. Am I right ? (Laughs.) Why do you 
 wear it ? 
 
 HATCH (roughly) 
 To keep my face warm. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Oh, pardon me; my mistake. (A locomotive 
 whistle Is heard at a distance. ALICE listens 
 eagerly. As the whistle dies away and is not re 
 peated, her face shows her disappointment?) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 What was that? There's no trains this time 
 of night. 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 ALICE (speaking partly to herself) 
 It was a freight train, going the other way. 
 
 HATCH (suspiciously) 
 The other way ? The other way from where ? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 From where it started. Do you know, I've 
 always wanted to meet a burglar. But it's so dif 
 ficult. They go out so seldom. 
 
 HATCH 
 Yes; and they arrive so late. 
 
 ALICE (laughing) 
 
 Now, that's much better. It's so nice of you 
 to have a sense of humor. While you're there, 
 just close those blinds, please, so that the neigh 
 bors can't see what scandalous hours we keep. 
 And then you can make a light. This is much too 
 
 gloomy for a supper party. 
 
 194 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HATCH (closing shutters) 
 
 Yes; if those were shut it might be safer. 
 (He closes shutters and turns on the two electric 
 lights. REDDY and HARRY enter, carrying plates.) 
 
 HARRY 
 
 We aren't regular waiters, miss, but we think 
 we're pretty good for amateurs. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 We haven't forgot nothing. Not even nap 
 kins. Have some napkins ? (Places a pile of 
 folded napkins in front of ALICE. Then sits at 
 head of table, HARRY to lower right of table. ALICE 
 moves her chair away from the table, but keeping 
 REDDY on her right. HATCH sits still further 
 away from the table on her left.) 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Thanks. Put the plates down there. And 
 may I help you to some 
 
 REDDY (taking food in fingers) 
 Oh, we'll help ourselves. 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 ALICE 
 
 Of course you're accustomed to helping your 
 selves, aren't you? (To HATCH.) Won't you 
 join them? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 No. (Through the scene which follows, REDDY 
 and HARRY continue to eat and drink heartily) 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No ? Well, then, while they're having sup 
 per, you and I will talk. If you're going to gag 
 me soon, I want to talk while I can. (Rises and 
 hands box to him) Have a cigar ? 
 
 HATCH (takes cigar) 
 Thanks. 
 
 ALICE (standing with hand on back of chair) 
 
 Now, I want to ask you some questions. You 
 are an intelligent man. Of course, you must be, 
 or you couldn't have kept out of jail for twenty 
 years. To get on in your business, a man must 
 
 196 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 be intelligent, and he must have nerve, and cour 
 age. Now with those qualities, why, may I 
 ask why are you so stupid as to be a burglar ? 
 
 HARRY 
 Stupid! 
 
 REDDY 
 Well, I like that! 
 
 HATCH 
 Stupid ? Why, I make a living at it. 
 
 ALICE 
 How much of a living ? 
 
 HATCH 
 Ten thousand a year. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Ten thousand well, suppose you made fifty 
 thousand. What good is even a hundred thou 
 sand for one year, if to get it you risk going to 
 
 197 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 prison for twenty years ? That's not sensible. 
 Merely as a business proposition, to take the 
 risk you do for ten thousand dollars is stupid, 
 isn't it? I can understand a man's risking 
 twenty years of his life for some things a man 
 like Peary or Dewey, or Santos-Dumont. They 
 took big risks for big prizes. But there's thou 
 sands of men in this country, not half as clever 
 as you are, earning ten thousand a year with 
 out any risk of going to jail. None of them is 
 afraid to go out in public with his wife and children. 
 They re not afraid to ask a policeman what time 
 it is. They don't have to wear black masks, 
 nor ruin their beautiful complexions with burnt 
 cork. 
 
 REDDY 
 Ah, go on. Who'd give me a job ? 
 
 ALICE 
 Whom did you ever ask for one ? 
 
 REDDY (to HARRY) 
 
 Pass me some more of that pie like mother used 
 
 to make. 
 
 198 
 
"Miss Civilization " 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Yes; there are clerks and shopkeepers work 
 ing behind a counter twenty-four hours a day, 
 but they don't make ten thousand a year, and 
 no one ever hears of them. There's no fame in 
 their job. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Fame! Oh, how interesting. Are you a 
 celebrity ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 I'm quite as well known as I care to be. Now, 
 to-morrow, all the papers will be talking about 
 this. There'll be columns about us three. No 
 one will know we are the ones they're talking 
 about 
 
 REDDY 
 I hope not. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 But the men in our profession will know. 
 And they'll say, "That was a neat job of So- 
 
 199 
 
"Miss Civilization*' 
 
 and-so's last night." That's fame. Why, we've 
 got a reputation from one end of this country to 
 the other. 
 
 HARRY 
 
 That's right! There's some of us just as well 
 known as Mister Santos Dumont. 
 
 REDDY 
 And we fly just as high, too. 
 
 ALICE (to HATCH) 
 
 I suppose you I suppose you're quite a famous 
 burglar ? 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Him? Why, he's as well known as Billy the 
 Kid. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Billy the Kid, really! He sounds so attractive. 
 But I'm afraid I don't think that I ever heard 
 of htm. 
 
 200 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Never heard of Billy the Kid ? What do yov 
 think of that ? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Well, then, I'm as well known as "Brace" Phil 
 lips, the Manhattan Bank robber. 
 
 REDDY 
 Sure he is. 
 
 HATCH 
 Don't tell me you never heard of him ? 
 
 ALICE 
 I'm afraid not. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Why, he's a head-liner. He's as well known 
 as George Post. Coppy Farrell ? Billy Porter ? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No. There you are. Now, you claim there 
 is fame in this profession, and you have named 
 
 2OI 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 five men who are at the top of it, and I've never 
 heard of one of them. And I read the papers, 
 too. 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Well, there's other ladies who have heard of us. 
 Real ladies. When I was doing my last bit in 
 jail, I got a thousand letters from ladies asking 
 for me photograph, and offering to marry me. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Really ? Well, that only proves that men 
 as husbands are more desirable in jail than out. 
 (To HATCH.) No; it's a poor life. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 It's a poor life you people lead with us to 
 worry you. There's seventy millions of you in 
 the United States, and only a few of us, and yet 
 we keep you guessing all the year round. Why, 
 we're the last thing you think of at night when 
 you lock the doors, we're the first thing you 
 think of in the morning when you feel for the 
 silver basket. We're just a few up against sev- 
 
 202 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 enty millions. I tell you there's fame and big 
 money and a free life in my business. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Yes; it's a free life until you go to jail. It's 
 this way. You're barbarians, and there's no 
 place for you in a civilized community except 
 in jail. Everybody is working against you. 
 Every city has its police force; almost every 
 house nowadays has a private watchman. And 
 if we want to raise a hue and cry after you, there 
 are the newspapers, and the telegraph, and the 
 telephone (nods at telephone) and the cables all 
 over the 
 
 HATCH (grimly) 
 
 Thank you. One moment, please. (Throws 
 open overcoat, showing that it is lined with burg 
 lars 9 jimmies, chisels, and augers.) 
 
 ALICE 
 
 My! What an interesting coat. It looks like 
 a tool chest. Just the coat for an automobile 
 trip. 
 
 203 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 HATCH 
 
 Harry, cut those telephone wires. (Hands 
 barbed-wire cutter to HARRY. To ALICE.) Thank 
 you for reminding me. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Oh, not at all. You've nothing to thank me 
 for. (HARRY goes to telephone. To HARRY.) 
 Don't make a noise doing that. Don't wake my 
 mother. (To HATCH.) She's nervous, and she's 
 ill, and if you wake her, or frighten her, I'll keep 
 the police after you until every one of you is in 
 jail. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 You won't keep after us very far when I've 
 tied you up. Bring me those curtain cords, 
 Harry. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Oh, really, that's too ridiculous. (Listens ap 
 prehensively.) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Sorry I had to bust up your still alarm, but 
 after we go, we can't have you chatting with 
 
 204 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 the police. If you hadn't so kindly given me a 
 tip about the telephone, I might have gone off 
 and clean forgot that. (HARRY takes curtain 
 cords from window curtains.) 
 
 REDDY 
 
 I'm afraid pretty polly talked too much that 
 time. We ain't all stupid. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 No; so I see, so I see. It was careless of me. 
 But everybody you call upon may not be so 
 careless. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Well, I've won out for twenty years. I've 
 never been in jail. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Don't worry. You're young. I told you you 
 looked young. Your time is coming. In these 
 days there's no room for burglars. You belong 
 to the days of stage-coaches. You're old-fash 
 ioned now. You're trying to fight civilization, 
 
 205 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 that's what you're trying to do. You may keep 
 ahead for a time, but in a long race I'll back 
 civilization to win. 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Is that so ? Well, Miss Civilization, you've 
 had your say, and I hope you feel better. (To 
 HARRY.) Give me that silk muffler of yours. 
 (To ALICE.) If civilization is going to help you, 
 it's got to hurry. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 You don't mean to say you really are going to 
 gag me ? 
 
 HATCH 
 I am. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 My! But I shall look silly. (With her face 
 turned right she listens apprehensively?) 
 
 HARRY (coming down with curtain cords, and tak 
 ing muffler from his pocket) 
 
 I've got the stuff in this muffler. 
 206 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Well, give me that, too. (Shows inside coat 
 pocket.) I'll put it in the safe. (HARRY places 
 muffler on table, exposing jewelry. HATCH be 
 gins placing the ornaments one at a time in his 
 pocket. To ALICE.) What is it ? What did 
 you hear ? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 I I thought I heard my mother moving 
 about. 
 
 HATCH 
 Well, she'd better not move about. 
 
 ALICE (fiercely) 
 
 You'd better not wake her. (Sees the jewels.) 
 Oh! Look at the "graft," or is it "swag"? 
 Which is it ? 
 
 HATCH (to HARRY) 
 
 Cover 'em up; cover it up. (HARRY tries to 
 hide the jewels with one hand, while he passes a 
 lady's watch to HATCH.) 
 
 207 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 HARRY (to ALICE) 
 That's your watch. Fm sorry it has to go. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Fm not. It's the first time it ever did go. 
 And, oh, thank you for taking that big brooch. 
 It's a gift of father's, so I had to wear it, but 
 it's so unbecoming. (She listens covertly.) 
 
 HATCH 
 
 Put your hat on them. Cover them up. (HARRY 
 partly covers jewels with his hat. HATCH lifts 
 a diamond necklace.) 
 
 ALICE 
 
 I suppose you know your own business but 
 that is paste. 
 
 HATCH 
 Do you want to be gagged now? 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Pardon me, of course you know what you 
 want. (Notices another necklace.) Oh, that's 
 
 208 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 Mrs. Warren's necklace! So you called on her, 
 too, did you ? Isn't she attractive! 
 
 REDDY 
 
 We didn't ask for the lady of the house. They 
 ain't always as sociable as you are. 
 
 * 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Well, that's her necklace. You got that at 
 the house on the hill with the red roof the house 
 has the red roof, not the hill. (She recognizes, 
 with an exclamation, a gold locket and chain which 
 HATCH is about to place in his pocket.) Oh! 
 that's Mrs. Lowell's locket! How could you! 
 (She snatches locket from HATCH, and clasps it in 
 both hands. She rises indignantly) How dared 
 you take that! 
 
 HATCH 
 Put that down! 
 
 ALICE (wildly and rapidly) 
 
 No; I will not. Do you know what that 
 means to that woman ? She cares more for that 
 
 209 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 than for anything in this world. Her husband 
 used to wear this. (Points.) That's a lock of 
 their child's hair. The child's dead, and the 
 husband's dead, and that's all she has left of 
 either of them. And you took it, you brutes! 
 
 REDDY 
 
 Of course we took it. Why does she wear it 
 where everybody can see it ? 
 
 HATCH, (savagely) 
 Keep quiet, you fool. 
 
 ALICE 
 She wore it ? You took it from her? 
 
 HATCH 
 
 We didn't hurt her. We only frightened her 
 a bit. (Angrily.) And we'll frighten you be 
 fore we're done with you, Miss Civilization! 
 
 ALICE (defiantly, her voice rising) 
 
 Frighten me! You you with your faces cov 
 ered! You're not men enough. You're afraid 
 
 210 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 
 to even steal from men. You rob women when 
 they're alone at night. 'Holds up locket.) Try 
 to take that from me! 
 
 VOICE (calling) 
 Alice Alice! 
 
 ALICE 
 
 Mother! Oh, I forgot, I forgot. (The burg 
 lars rise and move toward her menacingly.) Please, 
 please keep quiet. For God's sake, don't let 
 her know! 
 
 VOICE 
 
 Alice, what's wrong? Who are you talking 
 to ? (ALICE runs to the curtains, with one hand 
 held out to the burglars, entreating silence.) 
 
 ALICE 
 
 I'm I'm talking to James, the coachman. 
 One of the horses is ill. Don't come down, 
 mother. Don't come down. Go back to bed. 
 He's going now, right away. He came for some 
 medicine. It's all right. Good-night, mother. 
 
 211 
 
"Miss Civilization " 
 
 VOICE 
 Can't I help ? 
 
 ALICE (vehemently) 
 No; no. Good-night, mother. 
 
 VOICE 
 Good-night. 
 
 HATCH (fiercely, to HARRY) 
 
 That's enough of this! We can't leave here 
 with the whole house awake. And there's a 
 coachman, too. She'll wake him next. He'll 
 have the whole damned village after us. (To 
 ALICE.) That woman upstairs and you have 
 got to have your tongues stopped. 
 
 ALICE (standing in front of curtains) 
 
 You try to go near that woman! She's ill, 
 she's feeble, she's my mother! You dare to 
 touch her. 
 
 HATCH 
 Get out of my way. 
 
 212 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 ALICE 
 
 She's ill, you cowards. It will kill her. You'll 
 have to kill me before you get through this door. 
 
 HATCH (savagely) 
 
 Well, then, if it comes to that (Three loco 
 motive whistles are heard from just outside the 
 house. ALICE throws up her hands hysterically.) 
 
 REDDY 
 Ah! At last! They've come. They've come! 
 
 HATCH (fiercely) 
 
 They've come! What is it? What does that 
 mean ? (REDDY runs to window and opens the 
 shutters) 
 
 ALICE (jubilantly) 
 
 It means it means that twenty men are 
 crossing that lawn. It means that while you sat 
 drinking there, Civilization was racing toward 
 you at seventy miles an hour! 
 
 213 
 
"Miss Civilization" 
 HATCH 
 
 Damnation! We're trapped. Get to the wag 
 on quick! No. Leave the girl alone. We've 
 no time for that. Drop that stuff. That way. 
 That way. 
 
 REDDY (at window) 
 
 No. Get back! Get back! It's too late. 
 There's hundreds of them out there. 
 
 HATCH (running to centre door) 
 Out here! This way! Quick! 
 
 ALICE (mockingly) 
 
 Yes; come! You don't dare come this way 
 now! (She drags open the curtains, disclosing 
 CAPTAIN LUCAS and two other policemen. For 
 an instant they stand, covering the burglars with 
 revolvers. REDDY runs to window. He is seized 
 by an entering crowd of men in the oil-stained 
 blue jeans of engineers and brakemen.) 
 
 CAPTAIN LUCAS 
 
 Hold up your hands, all of you! I guess I 
 
 know you. (With his left hand he tears off 
 
 214 
 
"Miss Civilization " 
 
 HATCH'S mask.) "Joe" Hatch at last. (Pulls 
 off HARRY'S mask.) And Harry Hayes. I 
 thought so. And that's the " Kid." The whole 
 gang. (To the police.) Good work, boys. 
 (To ALICE.) My congratulations, Miss Gardner. 
 They're the worst lot in the country. You're a 
 brave young lady. You ought 
 
 ALICE (speaking with an effort and swaying 
 slightly) 
 
 Hush, please. Don't don't alarm my mother. 
 Mother's not as strong as as I am. (Her eyes 
 close, and she faints across the arm of the Chief 
 of Police as the 
 
 CURTAIN FALLS. 
 
 215 
 

73BED AT 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
 This book is due on the last DATE stamped below. 
 
 507n-l,'69 ( J5643s8 ) 2373 3A,1 
 
PS1522.V4 1911 
 
 3 2106 00206 6568