“Professor Strombergk,” announced Vance, “the distinguished writer on psychic and occult subjects, editor of The World Beyond.”
A tall, full-bearded German, in a too-short frock coat, bowed awkwardly. Upon him, as upon Mannie, had fallen the spell of the Hallowell fortune. He, who chatted familiarly with departed popes and emperors, who daily was in communication with Goethe, Caesar, and Epictetus, thrilled with embarrassment before the man who had made millions from a coupling pin.
“And Helen!” Mr. Hallowell cried, as Miss Coates followed the Professor. “That is all, is it not?” he asked.
Miss Coates moved aside to disclose the person of the reporter from the Republic, Homer Lee.
“I have taken you at your word, uncle,” she said, “and have brought a friend with me.” In some trepidation she added; “He is Mr. Lee, a reporter from the Republic.”
“A reporter!” exclaimed Mr. Hallowell. Disturbed and yet amused at the audacity of his niece, he shook his head reprovingly. “I don’t think I meant reporters,” he remonstrated.
“You said in your note,” returned his niece, “that as I had so much at stake, I could bring any one I pleased, and the less he believed in spiritualism, the better. Mr. Lee,” she added dryly, “believes even less than I do.”
“Then it will be all the more of a triumph, if we convince him,” declared Hallowell. “Understand, young man,” he proclaimed loudly, “I am not a spiritualist. I am merely conducting an investigation. I want the truth. If you, or my niece, detect any fraud tonight, I want to know it.” Including in his speech the others in the room, he glared suspiciously in turn at each. “Keep your eyes open,” he ordered, “you will be serving me quite as much as you will Miss Coates.”
Miss Coates and Lee thanked him and, recognizing themselves as the opposition and in the minority, withdrew for consultation into a corner of the bay window.
Vance approached Mr. Hallowell.