IX[ToC]
VIOLA'S PLEA FOR HELP
Morton went to his work next morning quite unfitted for an especially delicate piece of dissection which he had in hand. He bungled it, and Weissmann transfixed him with a glare of disapproval. "My boy, these social gayeties do not consort well with science."
The young man smiled to think how wide of the mark his chief was. He held up both hands. "I swear, it shall not happen again." Then, moved by a desire to secure a comment on the curious phenomena of the séance, he related the story of his brief interview with his uncle Ben's ghost. "Now, do you suppose that Clarke, or the 'medium,' could dig around among the dusty, forgotten lumber of my mind and get hold of a queer fact like that nickname?"
"Why go so far round?" inquired Weissmann. "Why not say it was your uncle Ben who spoke?"
"You are joking."
"I am not joking. If the facts are as you say, then one explanation is as reasonable as the other."