"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 him Mac,—now what do you think of Ouija?"
"I don't know what to think, Carly. Mayn't it be only that Thorpe was in both our minds, and that we subconsciously——"
"Oh, well, if you're going to take that tack, there's no more to be said. It's easy enough to say that,—but how can the dead send messages if 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—a murderer, Julie must be saved from him. If he isn't,—we must find it out, and give him to Julie free and clear of suspicion."
"We! Are you responsible for Julie's affairs?"