The blazing log broke and fell, and sparks showered up the chimney. So there really had been no ghost! Relief went through Joe Morrow in a fervent tide.
“Did—did you really have the proof, Uncle David?”
“The absolute proof, Joe. You saw it yourself.”
“I saw it?” The boy was bewildered.
Dr. Stone stretched back in the chair and placed his hands behind his head. “I don’t know whether he used a telephone mouthpiece or a microphone. Whatever he used he was right in front of it. His hands must have been active—he had to produce the sounds of water, footsteps, gravel. Every time the watch began its mystifying tick——”
“Oh!” Joe breathed.
“Yes,” the blind man said quietly. “You and Sweetman thought it was the beating of a human heart.”
AS A MAN SPEAKS
“Hard!” said Police Captain Tucker. “That’s what he is, Doctor—hard,” and the policeman drove a smacking fist into the palm of his other hand to emphasize the point.
The dog, lying in front of the fireplace, lifted her head. Dr. David Stone puffed his pipe serenely in the warmth of the blazing logs. The winter wind whistled about the house, a shutter banged like the report of a gun, and Joe Morrow jumped.