A good card “shark” or “brace game”[126] gambler can cheat and fleece the slickest sleight-of-hand performer that ever lived, unless the performer has made a specialty of gambling tricks. It seems strange, but it is true, that card magicians are poor gamblers, and mediums, like the gamblers, resort to deception and take advantage of the sitters at all angles. It is manifestly impossible to detect and duplicate all the feats attributed to fraudulent mediums who do not scruple at outraging propriety and even decency to gain their ends. A slick medium will even resort to drawing on the sitters[127] for desired information by recourse to what may be palmed off for a mere lark, and if the bait is swallowed by the sitter the circumstance is turned to good account for the perpetration of deliberate fraud to his consternation and bewilderment. Again many of the effects produced by mediums are impulsive, spasmodic, done on the spur of the moment, inspired or promoted by the attending circumstances, and could not be duplicated by themselves. Because the circumstances of their origin and performance are so peculiar detection and duplication of Spiritualistic phenomena is sometimes a most complex task. Not only are mediums alert to embrace every advantage offered by auto-suggestion but they also take advantage of every accidental occurrence. For instance, my greatest feat of mystery was performed in 1922 at Seacliffe, L. I., on the Fourth of July, at the home of Mr. B. M. L. Ernest. The children were waiting to set off their display of fireworks when it started to rain. The heavens fairly tore loose. Little Richard in his dismay turned to me and said: “Can’t you make the rain stop?” “Why certainly,” I replied and raising my hands said appealingly, “Rain and Storm, I command you to stop.” This I repeated three times and, as if by miracle, within the next two minutes the rain stopped and the skies became clear. Toward the end of the display of fireworks the little fellow turned to me and with a peculiar gleam in his eyes said: “Why, Mr. Houdini, it would have stopped raining anyway.” I knew I was risking my whole life’s reputation with the youngster but I said: “Is that so? I will show you.” Walking out in front I raised my hands suppliantly toward the heavens and with all the command and force I had in me called: “Listen to my voice, great Commander of the rain, and once more let the water flow to earth and allow the flowers and trees to bloom.” A chill came over me for as if in response to my command or the prayer of my words another downpour started, but despite the pleading of the children I refused to make it stop again. I was not taking any more chances.