“‘Don’t you remember me, Mr. Collins?’ he cried. ‘I’m Jack Heaton, and you used to let me make things in your laboratory over in Newark when I was a kid!’ “‘Of course I remember you but, my, how you have grown. I never would have known you. You were rather a frail chap then and now you’re such a powerfully built young fellow.’ And then we talked about you and all your experiences since I last saw you. I told you that you ought to write a book and you said that there wasn’t much to write, and that if it was done I’d have to do it for you. “Then we agreed we’d collaborate, you to furnish the experiences and I to write them out and I wanted to give you whatever was made from the sale of the book and that I would take the glory of having written it for my share of the profits; but you wouldn’t have it any other way but that we would divvy fifty-fifty.” “That part was all right,” put in Jack, “but what made a hit with me was that you said you knew a publisher who would take the book and forthwith we drew up a provisional table of contents. Then we went over to your publisher; you explained the idea to the editor and gave him the table of contents and we got the contract the next day. And do you know, Mr. Collins, that my leg began to feel better right away!” “That was some weeks ago, Jack, but I’ve enjoyed your company so much and have been so interested in what you’ve told me I wish we had it all to do over again. Well, Jack, we must to work again.” “All right, but before we get busy I want to tell you of a _séance_ I once had with King Solomon. Do you believe in spirits--in wireless spirits?” “Heard of all kinds of wireless and several kinds of spirits but don’t know the breed called _wireless spirits_,” I admitted. “I was introduced to one in London. One evening an operator from one of the Red Star liners who was interested in magic, spiritualism and all that sort of thing, wanted me to go with him to see a performance of Maskelyn and Devant’s Mysteries at St. George’s Hall in Langham Place, W. C. “The mysteries of these mystifiers were mystical enough to mystify the most mysterious and I saw everything from the wonderful East Indian rope trick to the equally wonderful spirit rapping table. David Devant, the celebrated conjurer, exhibited the table and he said--and nobody in the audience disputed him--that the table possessed the ghostly property of connecting this world with the next, the quick with the dead, that which is now with that which is to be, and that it would rap out answers to any questions which might be asked to prove it. “Some of the wiseacres present laughed lightly at the conjurer’s immaterial remarks but he assured them on his honor as a gentleman its guiding spirit was no lesser an (astral) light than that of old King Solomon himself. Thereupon Mr. Devant invited the audience to ply the immortal part of the departed wise man with any questions that might be fit and proper.