Then the phonograph was turned on, and Joseph marched to the tune of "Swannee River" and the strains of Sousa's band.
"Mr. Rossi," said Bruno, between a puff and a blow.
"Yes?"
"Have you tried the cylinder that came first?"
"Not yet."
"How's that, sir?"
"The man who brought it said the friend who had spoken into it was dead." And then with a shiver, "It would be like a voice from the grave—I doubt if I dare hear it."
"Like a ghost speaking to a man, certainly—especially if the friend was a close one."
"He was the closest friend I ever had, Bruno—he was my father."
"Father?"