Without hesitation the blindfolded unknown announced, “Mr. Storey is writing the name of one of the Apostles, but is thinking of a penknife.”
The clapping which followed was scattered and brief. “It’s simply uncanny,” exclaimed one of Kate’s neighbors. Kate, glancing back toward Jack, shook her head. Up there, in full view, she could not possibly see how he could have anything to do with it.
At this point the minister again stepped forward. “Will you answer a few questions?” he scrawled.
“With pleasure, Mr. Borden.”
“How old am I?”
“Forty-nine next September.”
The minister ran his fingers through his hair, perplexedly.
“How old is Mrs. Borden?”
There was a slight pause, then in gallant tones came the answer, “Twenty-two.”
Amid a renewal of laughter, and much clapping from the ladies, the minister was about to turn away, when on second thought he turned back, and wrote: