"Now would you?" said Vixley, fixing the old man with his glittering eyes. "Spirits ain't so much different from people on this side. Some o' them is interested in one thing, and some in another, same as we are. Some is nearer what I might call the material plane and some has progressed so they don't take much interest in earthly affairs."
"It seems to me that I'd always have an interest in my friends," said Mr. Payson.
"Does it?" Vixley replied. "Where was you raised?"
"In Vermont. I lived there till I was ten years old."
"Well, are you much interested in the kids you knew when you went to school there?"
"Perhaps not."
"Well, then, that's the way it is with spirits who have got progression. Their life on earth seems like childhood's days to them. Lord, they have their own business to attend to. I expect it keeps 'em pretty busy."
"Well, I don't know." Mr. Payson shook his head and seated himself. "It's all very strange and mysterious. But I'm only an investigator, and what I want is the truth, no matter what it may be."
"That's the right frame o' mind to come in," said Vixley; "you treat me right and I'll treat you right. Have a cigar?" He took one from his pocket and put it unlighted into his mouth, offering another to Mr. Payson.
"No, thanks, I don't smoke."