The Come Back

  CHAPTER XI

  Carlotta and the Board

  Much as Benjamin Crane desired to believe in Thorpe's innocence it wasdifficult for him to do so, after the disclosure of the medium, MadameParlato. In her powers he had absolute faith, of her honesty andsincerity he was entirely confident, and it was largely the accounts ofher _seances_ that made the bulk of his book about his son'scommunications with him. The _seances_ were frequent, still, and at eachone he gained more material for use in a second book.

  The book, the one already published, was in its fourth edition and wasstill having large sales. It was called "A Prophecy Fulfilled," anddealt with the old prophecy of the gypsy,--that Peter should be lostwhile on a distant journey, should die a terrible death there, butshould mysteriously return to his family.

  This, Benjamin Crane held, had been accomplished in full. The longjourney, the terrible death, were matters of fact, and Mr. and Mrs.Crane believed that the return of their son was equally a matter offact.

  Wherefore, the book was written in a simple, straightforward style,without excitement or exaggeration, and it gave detailed recitals of thehappenings at the _seances_.

  Needless to say that the medium was besieged with would-be clients, butshe accepted very few, for the Cranes claimed most of her time. Not thatthey were continually in her presence, but the exhaustive nature of hertrances made it impossible for her to devote many hours a day to theirpractice. And Benjamin Crane made it quite worth her while, financially,to reserve for him her peculiar talents.

  The sessions brought forth little that was new or different, but theparents never tired of what they implicitly believed was absolute directcommunication with their son's spirit through the personality of MadameParlato.

  Criticism, disapproval, even ridicule from their friends andacquaintances moved them not a jot from their faith and trust.

  Wiser and better people than we, believe in it,--they would argue,--andit is now so much a part of our lives, that I think we could scarcelylive without it.

  And so, they went along, cheered and made happy by the communicationsand fully reconciled thereby to the death of their cherished son.

  Julie, though never quite satisfied of the truth of the whole matter,had become more or less imbued with the atmosphere that she lived in,and aside from her own feelings, was glad that her parents could behappy in their grief, even though it were a delusion.

  And the popularity of this book brought him absorbing work and manyoutside interests to Benjamin Crane. Continually, people came to seehim, to discuss the question of Continuity, or Life after Death, and toargue for or against the reappearance of departed spirits.

  Many of these he saw and learned to like and his circle of acquaintanceswas continually enlarging.

  Naturally, when he discussed matters with them, the subject of GilbertBlair's death was talked of. Crane was a careful man, and rarely toldwhat happened at his _seances_, save in a general way. For he hadlearned of the dangers of having his statements misquoted andexaggerated, and as a rule, he was canny enough to let his visitorstalk, while he said little.

  And from the consensus of opinion thus gathered, he discovered thatpublic sentiment was largely against McClellan Thorpe. This troubledhim, for if Thorpe were guilty it was surely Crane's duty to guard hisdaughter from a criminal. On the other hand, Julie was so deeply in lovewith Thorpe, and so positive that he was in no way a wrong-doer, thatthe father's heart was torn.

  But his most vital reason for believing in Thorpe's guilt was themessage from his son to that effect.

  "It rests between our two children," he said to his wife. "Peter tellsus Mac is the guilty man,--and Julie tells us he isn't. Now, we mustlearn the truth. I'm going to get a detective, myself,-- I've had a fineone recommended,--and I don't think we need say anything to Julie or Macabout it. They asked for a few days to do some 'detecting' on their ownaccount,--but it won't amount to anything, I feel sure. So I'm going toengage Pennington Wise,--if I can get him. I'm told he's a mostsuccessful man, though not one of the 'wizards' or know-it-all variety."

  "Very well," Mrs. Crane, as always, agreed; "but don't tell anybody.Need you?"

  "Yes, I'll tell Weston. It wouldn't be fair not to. You see, I'm in apeculiar position. I've taken the responsibility of investigatingBlair's death, without any real authority, save that of a friend."

  "Of course your reason is that Julie cares for him."

  "Of course. And I do hope he can be cleared, but if not, it would betterbe proved against him, and let Julie know it, and get over it."

  "Yes," Mrs. Crane sighed. "Poor child, it would go hard with her."

  "But she must bear it, if it's the truth. I've hopes of Wise'sdiscovering another criminal."

  "Then what about Peter's message?"

  "I don't know,--but it's possible Peter may himself be misinformed. Youknow we've discovered that the disembodied spirits are not omniscient."

  In the meantime Carlotta Harper was endeavoring to use her occult powersto solve the mystery of Blair's death.

  Carlotta herself was a mystery. Disavowing any especial clairvoyantability, she yet achieved marvelous results from the Ouija Board.

  She scoffed at it herself, yet whenever her finger-tips were on theboard it spelled words rapidly and gave messages that were acclaimed astruth by the audience.

  One afternoon Shelby was with her, and he, a little timidly, suggested atrial of the Board.

  "Why, Kit, I thought you detested it," said Carly, surprised.

  "I do; but you're a witch at it, and--suppose it should tell ussomething about Blair,--something we don't know----"

  "You think Mac did it, don't you?" Carly spoke hesitantly, for the twohad discussed the subject very little.

  "I don't say so, Carly, yet where else is there to look? If you hadseen, as I did, how much at odds the two chaps were that evening Idropped in----"

  "The night of the dinner?"

  "Yes, in the late afternoon. They were rowing no end! Then I went off,but I called for them on the way to the feast,--we always gotogether,--and Blair was in a regular stew. Nervous,--couldn't get histie right,--and all that. And--Carly,--what do you think? He asked me ifI'd drop you! Think of that! As if I were a sort of man to interferewith a friend's interests! Why, if he'd told me there was anythingbetween you two, of course I should have stepped down and out at once.Was there, Carly?"

  "Nothing definite,--no." The girl spoke wearily, pushing back her thickmass of dark, wavy hair. "No, Kit, nothing promised. If he hadlived--oh, I don't know. You see, I loved Peter. And I sometimes think Inever can care at all for any one else."

  "But, dear, Peter's dead and Blair's dead,--and you can't live all yourlife alone: Just give me a ray of hope, Carly. I won't bother you aboutit,--only tell me that some time,--maybe----"

  "Let it stay at that, Kit. Some time it may be--and now come on,--if youlike we'll try the Ouija."

  The session was interesting. Carly never, in any circumstances, pushedor guided the board in the very least,--nor did she ever sit with anyone whom she suspected of doing so. But with her friends in whom she hadperfect confidence, or with acquaintances who, she knew were eagerlywanting to learn, not anxious to tell, she often tried the uncannything.

  Lightly they rested their finger-tips on the little wooden heart, andafter a short wait it began to move.

  At Carly's questions, replies came that there was a spirit present andthat it was Peter Boots.

  Neither of the inquirers was surprised at this, for they had fullyexpected it. Moreover, both had watched most closely the other's musclesand fingers and wrists, and each was positive the messages, whatevertheir source, were not the result of human deceit.

  After some preliminary talk, Carly said, "You put the questions, Kit."

  So Shelby said, "Peter, you know Blair's gone?"

  "Yes," returned the board.

  "Have you seen him--or I mean, is he with you--in spirit?"

  "Yes" came the answer.

  "
Will he talk to us?"

  "No."

  "Well--then can you give us a message from him?"

  "Yes."

  Yes and No are designated on the Ouija Board as words. The movement ofthe Board toward these was quick, almost jerky.

  But when the message was asked for,--when Shelby said, "Will he tell ushow he died?" there was a pause and the Board moved aimlessly about.

  At last, Carly said, "Peter, was Gilbert killed?"

  "Yes," came the quick reply.

  "Do you know who killed him?"

  "Yes."

  "Who was it?"

  Carly shot out the question quickly, and immediately the board moved toT. From that, as the two breathlessly waited, the pointer very slowlyspelled Thorpe.

  The word did not go smoothly,--the board swung round in large loops, butpaused positively at each letter, and then started slowly to the next.

  "You didn't push, Kit?" Carly asked, but more from force of habit thanany doubt of him.

  "Of course not. Nobody could push with you watching, nor was there anyreason why I should. Did you?"

  "Of course not. Don't let's ask each other that. We're both honest. Butyou know, Kit, Mr. Crane had a communication from Peter and he saidThorpe did it. But Mr. Crane thinks maybe Peter doesn't know."

  "Let's try to get Blair's spirit."

  They tried,--if receptive waiting can be called trying,--and at lastthey succeeded in receiving the information that Gilbert Blair's spiritwas present.

  "Will you tell us who killed you?" Carly asked at once, fearing lest hego away.

  Slowly the pointer moved away from the letter T. But after a series ofswirls it stopped definitely at M.

  "Go on," said Carly, in a whisper.

  A long swing of aimless motions and then a stop at A.

  The next stop was at C, and then the board would move no more.

  Carly sighed, and took her hands off.

  "Well, there's the message, Kit. You know Gilbert always called himMac,--now what do you think of Ouija?"

  "I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was inboth our minds, and that we subconsciously----"

  "Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to besaid. It's easy enough to say that,--but how can the dead send messagesif the human beings always say,--oh, subconscious pushing!"

  "But, are you so anxious to believe in Thorpe's guilt?"

  "Not that,--but I want to know. Julie's devoted to him, and if he's a--amurderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,--we must find itout, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion."

  "We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?"

  "Yes, in so far as I can help. You say, everybody says, that I haveoccult powers. If so, I must use them to help,--if they really do help.But how can I be sure?"

  "I don't know. But I think, perhaps, you'd better leave the wholeoccult business alone. It's uncanny if it's real, and it's foolishnessif it's faked."

  "I think Mr. Crane is going to get a special detective," Carly said,"but, oh, my gracious, I forgot I promised not to tell that. So don'ttell anybody else. I don't suppose they'd mind you knowing."

  "Who's the man?"

  "I think his name is Wise,--good name for a detective!"

  "Never heard of him. But, let's hope he clears Mac."

  "Yes, and finds the real murderer. Do you know I can't realize Gilbert'sgone,--even yet."

  "Don't think about him, Carly. It can't do any good, and it only makesyou sad and morbid. Let me tell you of my hopes and fears, mayn't I?"

  "Of course, go ahead."

  "Well, I'm getting up a big,--a really big enterprise."

  "What?"

  "I hope you won't disapprove, but it's in the Moving Picture business."

  "Why should I disapprove?"

  "Oh, some people sniff at M. P's. But this is a really big, fineproduction."

  "Are you the producer?"

  "Yes; don't tell it outside, yet. You see, I've written a big story,--apicturesque thriller,--and critics who've read it, think it's a wonder.Now, it's too big to give to anybody,-- I mean, it would be foolish forme merely to get a royalty,--so I'm going to put it on, myself."

  "Good, Kit, I'm glad to hear it. I always thought you had it in you tobe some sort of an organizer or producer, in some important way."

  "Yes, I've always had that ambition. Well, this is a great yarn! I wantto read it to you some time. Marvelous pictures,--they're being madenow. And that's not all of it,-- I mean to make it into a book----"

  "You can't write a book!"

  "If I can't I'll get it written,--but the plot is such a wonder,--andthe scenes!"

  "Up in Labrador, I'll bet!"

  "Yes, they are, Carly. And corkers! Well, I figure to have the book andthe pictures sprung on an unsuspecting public simultaneously,--andafterward,--maybe, it will be made into a real play!"

  "And after that, into a Light Opera,--and after that, into Grand Opera?"

  Carly's tone was mocking, but her smile was sweet and approving, and Kitbeamed at her.

  "I knew you'd be interested! I want you to hear the plot soon,--andwould you like to go to the studios?"

  "Where they're making the Labrador pictures?"

  "Yes; they're faked, of course. No sense in going up there to take them.I know the stuff so well, I can get it up right here."

  "Oh, Kit, you ought to have the real scenes."

  "No; it isn't necessary. Snow's easy enough to manage. But the plot'sthe thing! Carly, it's a peach! And then, it's all done up with realartistry. No crude, raw scenes. All softened with lights and shades andcolors; and everything,--even realism, sacrificed to beauty. It will bethe success of the season, the talk of the town, and it will make myreputation forever."

  "When will it be put on?"

  "Soon, now, I hope. Well, I mean in a month or so. I'd like to say themiddle of May, and think perhaps I can. It will run all summer anddoubtless longer."

  "And you don't want me to tell of this?"

  "Not quite yet, Carly. I'll let you know when you may."

  * * * * *

  And so, when, after Shelby had gone, and Julie and Thorpe came, Carlysaid nothing of the plans for the great Moving Picture.

  Nor did she tell of the Ouija Board experiences she and Shelby had had.In fact, Carly said little, preferring to let her guests talk.

  And they did.

  "We're detecting," Julie began, and Thorpe, his eyes harassed andgloomy, had to smile at Julie's enthusiasm.

  "Can I help?" Carly asked, with a loving glance at her friend.

  "I hope so,--but not with your old Ouija Board. I hate it!"

  "Wait till I suggest it," Carly smiled, for she saw Julie was in no moodfor argument. "What can I do?"

  "Only advise. I don't think you're a medium, Carly, but I do think youhave sort of queer powers. Now a queer thing has happened to me. Thismorning, on my bureau, there lay a note,--here it is." She handed afolded paper to Carlotta.

  It read: "Dear little sister. You _must_ give up old Mac. He did forGilbert. Peter Boots."

  Carly stared at the note.

  "It's in Peter's own writing!" she said; "what can it mean?"

  "It means fraud!" Julie exclaimed. "I know that's no note from Peter! Itis in his writing----"

  "But so exactly his writing!" Carly said, "nobody could have writtenthat but Peter himself. Oh, Julie!"

  "Now, stop, Carly! Don't you say it's really a materialization of a notefrom Peter! It can't be! I'm afraid to show it to mother or Dad, for Iknow they'll say it's really from him,--and I won't believe it."

  "You won't believe it's from Peter, because you don't want to believewhat it says,--isn't that it?"

  Carly looked at Thorpe, though she spoke to Julie.

  "Partly," Julie admitted; "but anyway, I can't believe that Peter,--mydead brother,--put that real, paper note on my dresser!"

  "If it had said Mac didn't kill Gilbert
, would you believe it then?"Carly asked.

  Julie stared at her, as she took in the question.

  "Yes," she said at last, "in that case, I'd want to believe,--but Idon't see how I could----"

  "Oh, you could, all right," Carly said, "if it meant Mac's innocence wasthereby established."

  "I'm out for justice," Thorpe said; "I hate to hurt Julie's feelings,but that note doesn't interest me at all,--one way or the other. Yousee, if it's a fake,--and I can't help thinking it is, it's somewhat inmy favor, for if faked must it not have been done by the real murderer,trying to put the blame on me? And if it's real--but, I never discussthat sort of thing at all. I'm not a believer,--as the Cranes believe,and yet, feeling toward the Crane family as I do, I refuse to combattheir beliefs or principles. So, as I say, I leave the note out of myconsideration. And, yet, Carlotta, I do want your opinion as to thegenuineness of the handwriting, because you know Peter's fist sowell,--and you're even less likely to be deceived than his family."

  Carly scrutinized the note again.

  "It seems to me it must be Peter's writing," she said at last. "Thoselong tails to the filial letters of the words, those are characteristic.And it's--yes, it's unmistakably his."

  "All right," Thorpe sighed. "I just wanted to know, for Mr. Crane willknow of it sooner or later, and I'm sure he'll identify it as Peter'swriting.

  "And it surely is," Julie added, again staring at the paper.

  "But, Julie, it's _too_ absurd!" Second thoughts convinced Carly ofthis. "How could such a thing happen?"

  "I don't know how it could, but it did," Julie said, doggedly. "And so,Carly, I feel, as Mac says, there's no attention to be paid to thisnote. If--mind I say _if_--Peter sent it, why then Peter thinks Mac didsomething that he didn't do, that's all. I know Mac is innocent, and soI shall say nothing of this note to any one, and you mustn't either."

  "I won't," Carly smiled to herself as she realized how many secrets shewas accumulating, "but you will, Julie. You can't keep that from yourfather, even though you mean to."

  "Yes, I can, if to tell of it would cast a straw of evidence againstMac! You see, Carly, we've got to find the real criminal, and I'd ratherdo it myself than get a new detective on the job."

  Carly knew this was because Julie feared the astuteness of the newdetective. Which, in turn, meant that Julie, herself, feared Mac'sguilt. Oh, it was a tightly closing net round Mac, as she saw it!

  "I wish I could help," she found herself saying, most unconsciously, sodeeply was she thinking. "But, Julie, you two can do nothing. What areyou expecting to accomplish?"

  "Success," Thorpe made reply. "Complete success. It may sound absurd,but I think that note is a help to my cause rather than hindrance!"

  "I think so, too," said Carlotta.