“Thank you, lady!” and Embury bowed gravely. “But you see, I have that--er--indescribable charm--that nobody can resist.” “You have, you rascal!” and Miss Ames beamed on him. “And I think this a favorable moment to ask a favor of your Royal Highness.” “Out with it. I’ll grant it, to the half of my kingdom, but don’t dip into the other half.” “Well, it’s a simple little favor, after all. I want to go out to Newark to-morrow in the big car--” “Newark, New Jersey?” “Is there any other?” “Yep; Ohio.” “Well, the New Jersey one will do me, this time. Oh, Sanford, do let me go! A man is going to will another man--blindfolded, you know--to find a thingumbob that he hid--nobody knows where--and he can’t see a thing, and he doesn’t know anybody and the guide man is Mr. Mortimer--don’t you remember, his mother used to live in Cambridge? she was an Emmins--well, anyway, it’s the most marvelous exhibition of thought transference, or mind-reading, that has ever been shown--and I must go. Do let me?--please, Sanford!” “My Lord, Aunt Abby, you’ve got me all mixed up! I remember the Mortimer boy, but what’s he doing blindfolded?” “No; it’s the Hanlon man who’s blindfolded, and I can go with Ferdinand--and--” “Go with Ferdinand! Is it a servants’ ball--or what?” “No, no; oh, if you’d only listen, Sanford!” “Well, I will, in a minute, Aunt Abby. But wait till I tell Eunice something. You see, dear, if Hendricks does show up, I can pump him judiciously and find out where the Meredith brothers stand. Then--” “All right, San, I’ll see that he stays. Now do settle Aunt Abby on this crazy scheme of hers. She doesn’t want to go to Newark at all--” “I do, I do!” cried the old lady. “Between you and me, Eunice, I believe she does want to go,” and Embury chuckled. “Where’s the paper, Aunt? Let me see what it’s all about.” “‘A Fair Test,’“ he read aloud. “‘Positive evidence for or against the theory of thought transference. The mysterious Hanlon to perform a seeming miracle. Sponsored by the Editor of the Newark Free Press, assisted by the prominent citizen, James L. Mortimer, done in broad daylight in the sight of crowds of people, tomorrow’s performance will be a revelation to doubters or a triumph indeed for those who believe in telepathy.’ H’m--h’m--but what’s he going to do?” “Read on, read on, Sanford,” cried Aunt Abby, excitedly. “‘Starting from the Oberon Theatre at two o’clock, Hanlon will undertake to find a penknife, previously hidden in a distant part of the city, its whereabouts known only to the Editor of the Free Press and to Mr. Mortimer. Hanlon is to be blindfolded by a committee of citizens and is to be followed, not preceded by Mr. Mortimer, who is to will Hanlon in the right direction, and to “guide” him merely by mental will-power. There is to be no word spoken between these two men, no personal contact, and no possibility of a confederate or trickery of any sort.