"Just so. I have done well here. Many sought the mysteries. I have been unusually successful in Riverbank." He stopped short and looked at Philo Gubb suspiciously. "You don't believe in transmigration, do you?" he asked. "Not without I do without knowing it," said Mr. Gubb. "What is it?" "Transmigration," repeated Alibaba Singh. "It--Hindoos believe in it. At death the souls of the good enter higher forms of life; the souls of the bad enter lower forms of life. If you were a bad man and died you would become a--a dog, or a horse, or--or something. You don't believe that, do you?" "Most certainly not at all!" said Mr. Gubb. "I--I teach it," said Alibaba Singh uneasily. "It is part of my teaching." "You don't aim to believe nothing of that sort, do you?" asked Mr. Gubb as if he could not imagine any man so foolish. "Now, that's it!" said Alibaba Singh. "That's why I came to you. All this is strictly confidential, of course? Thanks. I can speak right out, Mr. Gubb? I have in the past taught some things I did not absolutely believe." "Quite likely true," admitted Philo Gubb. "We--we occulists get carried on by our eloquence," said Alibaba Singh. "We--we go too far sometimes. Far too far! I admit it. I admit that frankly. When our clients reach out to us for more and more, we--we sometimes go too far. I won't say we string them along. I wouldn't say that. But we--we lead them farther than we have gone ourselves, perhaps. You understand?" "Almost absolutely," said Mr. Gubb. "Just so! Mr. Gubb, one of my clients was greatly interested in transmigration of souls--greatly interested. She was interested in all things mystical--in reincarnation; in the return of the spirits of the dead; in everything like that. I--really, Mr. Gubb, it was hard for me to keep up with her." "And you proceeded to go ahead and teach her about this transmigration of souls that you don't believe into yourself," said Mr. Gubb helpfully. "And when she found out you was a faker she set out to sue you for her money back." "No. Not that!" said Alibaba Singh energetically. "That's not it. She doesn't want her money back. She--she's _almost_ satisfied. She's willing to accept what had happened philosophically. She's almost content. Mr. Gubb, the reason I came to you was that I did not want her to land in--" Alibaba Singh looked carefully around. "I don't want her to land in jail," he whispered. "It would make trouble for me. The lady, Mr. Gubb, is Mrs. Henry K. Lippett." "Well?" queried Mr. Gubb. "What I don't know," said Alibaba Singh, wiping his brow nervously, "is whether I _did_ reincarnate her late husband or whether she's liable to be arrested for stealing a--" Alibaba Singh stopped short and arose hastily. Some one had knocked on Mr. Gubb's door. Alibaba Singh moved toward the door. "I don't want to talk about this with anybody around," he said nervously. "I'll come back later. Not a word about it!"