“I thank you, gentlemen,” he said good-humoredly; “but I am not a juggler.”
He asked next for the cube of wood and for the sealed letter.
“I have never seen either of these,” he said, the phrase being repeated almost with a mechanical indifference. “I suppose that the President or the person who wrote the letter can identify the note wherever he finds it.”
At his direction President Taunton held up before him the cube with the letter lying upon it. The stranger laid his hand over the letter, and then showed an empty palm toward the audience.
“You see I have not taken the letter,” he said. “If the saw is there, please cut the block in two in the middle. Cut it across the grain.”
While the sawing was going on, the magician put on his wrap and sat down. He resumed his signet ring, and sat with his head bowed in his hands. When the block had been divided, the ends of the letter, cut in halves, appeared in the midst of the wood.
“I think,” the stranger said, “that the two halves of the note will slip out of the envelope without difficulty, and Dr. Taunton will then be able to say whether it is the original letter or not.”
The president with a little trouble pulled out the pieces of paper and fitted them together. He examined them critically, even using a pocket-glass.
“If I had not been deceived earlier in the evening, and if I did not know that it is wildly impossible,” he said, “I should say that this is my letter.”
“‘I believe because it is impossible,’” quoted the stranger. “You may keep the pieces and decide at your leisure.”