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MIRRIKH

had met. A man whose facial appearance violated all the laws of ethnology; a man seemingly possessed of powers which opposed physical law. Yet now that my friend had seen what I had seen, I found myself forced to admit the truth of that which for weeks past I had been trying to persuade myself was but the outgrowth of an over morbid mind.

“George! George! You saw him?” cried Maurice, staring down at the portico through which Mr. Mirrikh had disappeared.

“Decidedly I saw him. And you—now you are forced to admit that my experience at Panompin was no dream?”

“I admit nothing. All my life—that is ever since I was old enough to read and think—I have longed to be a witness to something of this sort. But, George, once seeing is not enough to convince me that the man exists who can set at naught the laws of nature. I must see and see, test and re-test again and again. I admit the possibility—no more.”

“But,” I began, “such business is done by others than Buddhists. Our modern Spiritualists for instance——

“Oh bother the modern Spiritualists!” he exclaimed impatiently. “There is something different here from your vulgar table tipping, spirit rappings and banjo playings. How did that man get down from this tower? George, I tell you my dear fellow—pshaw! we can talk no longer now!”

He was right. The moment had come when our attention was to be distracted.

Quick footsteps were heard upon the topmost stairs and the full, rich voice of the singer drew nearer. An instant later and we were no longer alone. The singing ceased, a man stepped out upon the platform and advanced to where we stood.

“Ah! So I am not the only one who has had the courage to brave these infernal stairs!” he exclaimed. “Good morning, gentlemen. English I perceive, or American. My name is Philpot—Miles Philpot. I am glad to meet you—glad to meet any one capable of speaking the only respectable language on God’s footstool—I am indeed.”

Let me describe him. It must be done, and the sooner we are through with introductions the sooner my strange story may be told.

A man of forty years, perhaps, of medium height, slightly inclined to corpulency, with brown hair, big, bulging blue