'I know nothing,' said Clayton, 'except what the poor devil let out last night.'
'Well, anyhow,' said Sanderson, and placed his church-warden very carefully upon the shelf over the fireplace. Then very rapidly he gesticulated with his hands.
'So?' said Clayton, repeating.
'So,' said Sanderson, and took his pipe in hand again.
'Ah, now' said Clayton, 'I can do the whole thing—right.'
He stood up before the waning fire and smiled at us all. But I think there was just a little hesitation in his smile. 'If I begin' he said.
'I wouldn't begin,' said Wish.
'It's all right!' said Evans. 'Matter is indestructible. You don't think any jiggery-pokery of this sort is going to snatch Clayton into the world of shades. Not it! You may try, Clayton, so far as I'm concerned, until your arms drop off at the wrists.'
'I don't believe that,' said Wish, and stood up and put his arm on Clayton's shoulder. 'You've made me half believe in that story somehow, and I don't want to see the thing done.'
'Goodness!' said I, 'here's Wish frightened!'
'I am,' said Wish, with real or admirably feigned intensity. 'I believe that if he goes through these motions right he'll go.'
'He'll not do anything of the sort,' I cried. 'There's only one way out of this world for men, and Clayton is thirty years from that. Besides . . . And such a ghost! Do you think?'
Wish interrupted me by moving. He walked out from among our chairs and stopped beside the table and stood there. 'Clayton,' he said, 'you're a fool.'
Clayton, with a humorous light in his eyes, smiled back at him. 'Wish,' he said, 'is right and all you others
