“It’s not quite the same,” said Alec. “I’ve changed a few of the letters.” He produced the old board and put it alongside the new one. “You see the T and the W have changed places, and so have the B and the M. And both the T and the M come into the Spook’s answer to ‘Ask something.’”
“Yes,” said the Doc., “and here’s another change—the V and the D.”
“I didn’t change that,” said Alec quickly.
“But ye did,” persisted the Doctor. “The old one reads from left to right, S D V, and the new one S V D.”
“So it does,” said Alec; “that was an accidental change.”
“Dash it!” said I. “I never spotted that, either.”
I don’t know why my remark escaped notice, but it did. Somebody suggested we should go on spooking, and I put my fingers on the glass again with a feeling of thankfulness. The glass began to move.
“I know who this is,” the Doc. said, without opening his eyes. “It’s Silas P. Warner.”
“Quite right,” said Price, eyeing Doc. with a growing suspicion. “How did you know before I read it out?”
“Why, of all unbelievers,” said Doc. the Innocent, looking at Price in astonishment; “of all the unbelievers! Faith! D’ye think I’m a lump of wood, or what? D’ye think I’ve sat here night after night and hour after hour, fingerin’ this blessed glass, an’ don’t know the difference in feel between one Spook and another?”