For Julie had never attended a séance before.
"No, sister," the voice said, speaking more clearly with every word; "this is an unusual occasion. Perhaps,—perhaps the medium can bring about materialization to-night."
"Oh, don't," Julie cried out, "I'm scared!"
"Don't be frightened, Julie," Peter said, his voice faint again, "I won't hurt you."
The well-remembered gentleness reassured Julie, and she held tight to her parents' hands and listened.
"I have a message for each of you," the voice went on; "or you may each ask me a question, as you prefer."
"I'll ask," Julie exclaimed; "Peter, dear Peter Boots, tell me that Mac never killed Gilbert. I know it, yet I want you to say so. They told me you didn't know, and that you were misinformed and all that. You do know, don't you, Peter?"
"Yes, Julie, I know. And Mac didn't kill Gilbert at all. But I know who did. Shall I tell?"
"Yes," cried out several in chorus.
And then, from out the dark shadows behind Weston's chair, there slowly appeared a dark, cloaked form. A black-draped, hooded figure, that moved slowly toward them. A tall, big figure that seemed to loom out of the darkness, and then the hood fell back a little, a white ghostly face appeared dimly and a slowly raised hand pointed to Kit Shelby.