Gaylor raised his hand for silence.
“No, Mrs. Vance,” he said wearily. “We are not crazy, but,” he added bitterly, “we can’t help ourselves. You mediums have got Mr. Hallowell in such a state that he’ll only do what his sister’s spirit tells him. He says, if he’s robbing his niece, his sister will tell him so; if he’s to give the money to the Institute, his sister will tell him that. He says, if Vance is fair and above-board, he shouldn’t be afraid to have his niece and any friends of hers present. We can’t help ourselves.”
“I helped a little,” said Vance, “by insisting on having our own friends there—told him the spirit could not materialize unless there were believers present.”
“Did he stand for that?” asked Mabel.
“Glad to have them,” her husband assured her. “They like to think there are others as foolish as they are. And I’m going to place Mr. District Attorney,” he broke out suddenly and fiercely, “between two mediums. They’ll hold his hands!”
Already frightened by the possible result of the plot, Rainey, with a vehemence born of fear, retorted sharply: “Hold his hands! How’re you going to make him hold his tongue, afterward?”
Gaylor turned upon him savagely.
“My God, man!” he cried, “we’re not trying to persuade the District Attorney that he’s seen a ghost. If your friends can persuade Stephen Hallowell that he’s seen one, the District Attorney can go to the devil!”
“Well, he won’t!” returned Rainey, “he’ll go to law!”
“Let him!” cried Gaylor defiantly. “Get Hallowell to sign that will, and I’ll go into court with him.”