"Did I—what?" demanded his dumbfounded superior.
"A sort of itching of the right arm—an almost overpowerin' inclination to touch your hat to poor old Bones?"
Hamilton drew a long breath. "I felt an almost overpowering desire to lift my foot," he said significantly.
"Look at me again," said Bones calmly. "Fix your eyes on mine an' think of nothin'. Now shut your eyes. Now you can't open 'em."
"Of course I can open them," said Hamilton. "Have you been drinking, Bones?"
A burst of delighted laughter from the girl checked Bones's indignant denial. "I know!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Bones is trying to mesmerize you!"
"What?"
The scarlet face of Bones betrayed him.
"Power of the human eye, dear old sir," he said hurriedly. "Some people have it—it's a gift. I discovered it the other day after readin' an article in The Scientific Healer."
"Phew!" Hamilton whistled. "So," he said, with dangerous calm, "all this staring and gaping of yours means that, does it? I remember now. When I was examining you for promotion the other day, you stared. Trying to mesmerize me?"