"I think you need have no fear, Mrs. Stannard, of any injustice being done. One moment, Madame Orienta. You saw the footman, Blake, followed by Mrs. Faulkner, enter the room and turn on the light, just as they testified?" "The light was flashed on, and then I saw the servant, his hand still on the switch. Behind him, at his very shoulder, was Mrs. Faulkner, her face drawn with fear and horror. Naturally I turned my attention at once to the other end of the room, and there saw, for the first time, the two women whom I had heard enter a moment before." "Thank you, that is all," and rising, Bobsy Roberts made brief adieus and hurried away. He went straight to headquarters and sought Captain Steele. "Got Stannard's murderer," he announced excitedly. "Again or yet?" asked his unmoved listener. "Got it in the queerest way, too," Bobsy went on, as he fished for his notebooks in the pocket of the overcoat he had laid off. "Do you believe in mejums, Cap?" "Not so's you'd notice it. Spill your yarn." "Well, to begin at the beginning of this chapter of it, Mrs. Stannard engaged a clairvoyant lady to see visions." "Spooks?" "Not exactly that, but to--well, to reconstruct the murder scene,--mentally, you know,--and see who did the stabbing. And by Jove, she told us!" "Come now, Bobsy, I'll stand for a good deal from you----" "Now, hold on, she didn't know she told----" "What! Didn't know what she told----" "If you could listen without butting in every minute, I'd give you the whole story." "I'll try," and Captain Steele folded his hands and listened without a word while Bobsy told him every detail of the Orienta revelation. Often he referred to his notes, and again he told vividly from memory the exact words of the priestess. "And you fell for that?" cried Steele, as the tale ended. "Sure I did, and so would you if you'd been there. You can sort of sense the difference between the professional fake mediums and this--this lady. She was the real thing, all right. I felt just as you do, before I saw her, but I was soon convinced. Why, man, that reading the sealed messages was enough." "Pooh, they have lots of ways of doing that." "But she didn't use any of their 'ways.' I, myself, handed the bunch to her, and immediately she read them out, and in pitch dark, too. No, there was no chance for trickery. She read them in dark or light, equally well. And not a seal broken or an envelope torn. Now, then!" "No chance for a confederate?"