"Thank you, gentlemen," declared Scorpio, with a sarcastic bow. "Here is my turban; you may examine it, too. Meanwhile, you may return my watch, my wallet, and other odds and ends."
The Shadow saw the objects that were returned to Scorpio. The Professor was standing in front of a huge fireplace, which was not lighted, because the séance was to be in darkness. Analyzing various aspects of the situation, The Shadow made further observations.
He saw the safe, in an alcove fairly remote from Scorpio. He watched the Hindu servants remove bulbs from light sockets, so that no one could press a switch at the wrong time. They were screwing red bulbs into wall brackets: such lights would not hinder the professor.
All ordinary bulbs were gone, except for one. Taking a chair, Professor Scorpio gestured around the circle.
"I have been searched," he told the group. "So, before we begin, I ask the same privilege. My servants will relieve you of all flashlights"
There was grumbling; some discord regarding the fact that the Hindus were present at all. Scorpio agreed that they could be placed in another room, under the surveillance of a committee. They went, taking the flashlights with them. Scorpio ordered the door locked, the key brought to him.
Henry Denwood was near the window, which was open. He was watching Scorpio step to the last light.
The professor removed the bulb and only the red glow from the wall brackets remained. Scorpio, clad in white, was vaguely visible; Denwood heard the light bulb tinkle as the professor dropped it near the fireplace.
Then, in that eerie setting, Denwood heard Scorpio intone:
"There will be spirits shortly; nay, immediately! The psychic mood is upon me-"
THE drone became a babble; simultaneously, a wraithlike thing began to float close beside Scorpio, growing slowly, yet so suddenly in evidence that Denwood gasped along with the rest.
But Denwood, despite his fascination, was suddenly conscious of a hand that gripped his shoulder. The touch made him shudder. It chilled him, with a sensation of real coldness that left Denwood very nervous, until he sensed that he was holding a flashlight. It had come from the outer darkness, but not that of ethereal space. The flashlight came through the open window.
So did the voice that whispered close to Denwood's ear; a tone that the gray-haired man alone could hear:
"Be ready! You will know when."
The voice of The Shadow! Grimly, Denwood settled in his chair, clutching the precious flashlight, prepared for the part he was to play in the trapping of Professor Scorpio.
CHAPTER XIV. AMONG THE GHOSTS.
A CHILDISH spook was wavering near Professor Scorpio, bowing to the astonished sitters. Scorpio had ceased his babble, so that the half-grown spirit could talk. It muttered words in a falsetto, but did not identify itself.
The Shadow knew the source of that pretended ghost; that it could vanish as rapidly as it had arrived leaving no evidence. The voice was simply Scorpio's own, which gave a ventriloqual effect in the darkness. The professor was testing out his audience. If persons made a grab for the baby spook, they would catch nothing but thin air.
The spirit was saying that it would have to go, but that soon it would return. Some other spirit wanted the floor. Scorpio's test had worked; he intended to bring back the tiny spook to cover the departure of a full-sized ghost, just as he was using it now as a preliminary precaution.
Quite satisfied with that situation, The Shadow listened for outside sounds. He heard them-the slight swash of wavelets near the shore, then a creeping sound among the trees. He traced an approach toward a cellar window; one that hesitated. There were other crunches from surrounding directions.
A last glance through the window. The baby sprite had diminished, then bobbed up again. It was babbling happily in Scorpio's falsetto, coyly deciding to chat a while longer with the "meedie," which was its pet term for the bearded professor.
As the thing finally faded, Scorpio's own voice returned. In trance-like tone, he asked for someone to name a ghost that they should like to have appear. Paula Lodi spoke ardently from the circle:
"Francois-"
There was a buzz. Paula gasped. She sounded as though she had responded with that name by arrangement with Scorpio. Perhaps such was the case; possibly, the professor had known how Paula's mind would run. At any rate, she changed her request as perfectly as if Scorpio had cued her.
"No, no!" exclaimed Paula. "I want-Howard!"
The buzz was louder. Scorpio silenced it.
"Howard Carradon is still among the living," he declared, in an impressive monotone. "But there is another, who may have gone to the world beyond-"
The Shadow was moving to the cellar; his own window was away from those where he could hear slight creaks. Hence The Shadow did not see the events that followed; but he could picture them.
A luminous circle twisted beneath the red lights; it swirled near Scorpio and grew rapidly. It was the old trick of a secret arrival lifting a black cloth, but this pretended spirit developed much more rapidly than usual. The man playing the part of spook wanted to get the job done.
As the face showed itself, onlookers became aghast. The face glowed with sickly green, but it was distinguishable as one they recognized, though its contour seemed misshapen.
The face of Niles Rundon!
"I have a message"-the voice had Rundon's depth, but it was harsher-"a message for Lois Melvin!"
"It's not Niles!" came Lois reply from the circle. "I am sure it isn't! This is a trick"-her voice firmed-"and a poor one! If you are Niles"-she was on her feet, addressing the ghost-"I have a question for you!"
The ghost vanished, overquickly. Professor Scorpio inserted sharp remarks. He knew that the spook was still at hand, but others didn't. It was up to him to fill the breach.
"We must have quiet," he ordained. "Perhaps the spirit will return. Those newly departed to a higher plane are seldom able to develop with ease, or remain among us long. Be patient, Miss Melvin."
WITH that, Scorpio went into mutters, distinguishable to no one in the circle. They were meant for the ghost, alone. Under his breath he was criticizing Barcla for having done the impersonation sloppily and playing it too strong. Then:
"If you will put the question to me, Miss Melvin, I shall induce the spirit to return." Scorpio was making his plea ardent. "You must try a simple question, at first. Perhaps we can allow others later."
Lois asked for the spirit to name the day when she had been to Los Angeles. She was willing to play the game as Scorpio wanted, sure that she could press the situation later. Scorpio requested the spirit to return and answer.
It didn't appear, at first. The professor appeared rather satisfied. He talked in a coaxing tone. At last, the bashful spook revealed itself with a swirl. Rundon's face showed, its expression a bit distorted: in an attempt at a milder tone, its voice said.
"Tuesday."
"Tuesday is right," began Scorpio. "And now, Miss Melvin-"
"Another question," snapped Lois. "Whose picture is in the back of my wrist watch?"
The spirit spoke for itself. "My own picture," it began, warily. "When I was in my earthly form. The form of-"
"Of a white poodle?" queried Lois, sweetly, "who answered to the name of Alphonse?"
The fake ghost disappeared so suddenly, that most of the sitters could guess that a cloth had dropped over it. Scorpio was shouting above the bedlam, trying to reverse the situation in his favor. He heard cries of "trickery" and took up the challenge.
"Yes, trickery!" he shouted,
"Trickery on the part of Miss Melvin, who changed the photograph in that watch! Silence, everyone!"
There were calls of: "Bring back the spook!"