The House of Mystery: An Episode in the Career of Rosalie Le Grange, Clairvoyant

of the Hotel Greenwich. Instead came a page, calling "Dr. Blake!" It was a note-"Stuyvesant Fish Park as soon as you get this. R. Le G.," it read. Dr. Blake leaped into a ta

a suppressed excitement. When she turned to answer his quick "Mme. Le Grange!" her cheeks carried a faint color, and her gray eyes were shining. But her

was more fool

ped joyously to conclus

slender fing

don't have me followed when I leave the house. That's why I sent for you to change meet

Can you prove it?"

ry in a headline before I git to it. I've got to go my own gait or I can't go at all. Now

ll Street, though you can't never tell in New York, where they all play the market or the ponies. I didn't wait to size him up real careful; that wouldn't do. I just passed on down to the pantry and then passed back again. He was still there. This time he had put up his newspapers, and he was looking over some pencil notes on that yellow legal cap paper. He didn't hear me until I was close on him, the rugs in the hall are that big and soft. Bu

ght ahead of me, a green automobile with one of those limousine bodies drove up to the front door. It's dark down in the area by the servants' entrance. I stopped like I was huntin' through

ailroa

her lips and

w? You've never

'd know Theodore Roosevelt if you saw him first time, wouldn't you? But I made surer than that. Next day I m

ake wh

or big gam

a straight interest in the spirit world-well, when you see big medium and big money together, it looks li

onto the second floor. When I come into the hall, Elle

pected. There's some of her devil doin's going on downstairs to-night. She wan

ng more 'n another that I've got, it's ears-and ears that remember, too. I hadn't been a day in that house when I knew every bell in it and who was ringin' besides. This wasn't any of 'em. But that

stened for that bell when she struck the stairs. I couldn't hear nothing. The current has been switched off, thinks I. Maybe it was ten minutes later when I got a faint kind of thud, like somebody had let down a folding bed, though there ain't a one of those man-killers in our house. Sort of stirred up a recollection, that sound. I lay puzzling, and the answer came like a flash. Worst fake outfit I ever had anything to do with was Vango's Spirit Thought Institute in St. Paul. I've told you before h

sed to it. I pulled the carpet sideways. Sure enough, there was a wide crack just below the step, and when I peeked in, I could see the electric connections. Question was, where was the bell? But I had something to think of first. Where would Mrs. Markham have a cabinet if she ever done materializin'? I had thought that all out-a little alcove library in the rear of the back parlor. Give you plenty of room, when the folding doors were open, for lights and effects. If

for breath befo

f those ceiling ornaments came up with the bottom of the trap. But that wasn't the funny thing about that trap, nice piece of work as it was. It's a regular cupboard. Double, you understand. Space in between-and all the fixings for a materializin' seance, the straight fixings that the dope sees and the crooked ones that only the medium and the spook sees, tucked inside. A

e w

hoever got 'em must 'a' talked with somebody that was right close to her-an old aunt, I'm thinking. But no medium made

d more and more as he listened, ju

u!" he cried. "Di

enthusiasm. She turned on him a

e uses confederates, and it can't be none of the servants, unless I'm worse fooled on

e, "but of course you can be trusted

"Quiet, and dopey, and strange. That,"-her voice fell

there!" he exploded; "

kin' your money for, ain'

ong the push-cart peddlers and the bargaining wives, and

a smart young man like him never thought to