It was Peters. There was immediate clapping at the suggestion, and calls of “Yes, yes! Do it blindfolded!”
In alarm Kate, from her seat, gazed toward Jack. To her surprise he was one of the most energetic in clapping the proposal.
The professor himself, however, was plainly disconcerted, to the particular delight of Peters and his circle of friends, who, as the mind-reader continued to hesitate, clapped more and more loudly.
Finally the seer arose. “Well, ladees and gentlemans, if you wish, certainly. Though I do read just as good with my eyes open.”
This negative statement brought further derisive laughter and clapping from Peters and his friends, which was added to when the professor continued, “Will some young lady be kind enough to lend me ze handkerchief—ze tiny leetle one with plenty holes all round?”
Peters was again on his feet. “Here is one!”
It was a large, dark neckerchief, obviously brought for this very purpose. As Peters stepped forward and mounted the platform the professor removed his spectacles with apparent reluctance. Broadly smiling, Peters threw the folded kerchief over the mind-reader’s eyes, saw that it fitted snugly, and tied it. “Now we’ve got you, Mr. Smart, of Constantinople,” he whispered derisively.
“Have ze good time and laugh while you may,” responded the professor, and raising his voice he asked, “Will someone kindly bring ze glass water? Mind-reading, it is dry.”
It was Jack started to his feet, passed down the room, and returned with the desired water. Watching, Kate expected to see a consultation between the two boys, as to some way out of the apparent difficulty. Jack, however, merely placed the glass in the extended hand, and received it back without the exchange of a syllable. Not only that, he returned to the back of the hall, and instead of resuming his seat at the front, mounted to a window ledge at the rear.
“Well, I am ready,” announced the professor. “And I make ze suggestion that Mr. Peters himself write ze first.”