“_I am telling you I am innocent. I did not murder, and I am not guilty, and my brother who was in a faint is all right now, and I am the spirit of the mother of those two boys—my sons, and I have been the mysterious one whose voice you have heard here trying to tell you and help my son out of this trouble. I have to explain this by inspiring my son, as I am doing now, and I can do so, as you see. And I have brought the woman who was murdered with me, and she is here to say that she was strangled to death by her husband, not by my son. My son is not guilty of that crime, and I want you to take this name and address which she will give me, and send for the real murderer. His name is Robert Devenart, and Mrs. Devenart is here to tell you all about the crime, and I will repeat the words after her_: “‘_I was strangled to death, not by this man here, but by my husband. I will tell all. I was having trouble with him and as he threatened me I screamed, and the door opened, and this man, whom I knew slightly, entered and asked if he could be of any assistance. I tried to be brave, and told him that I did not need any assistance. He left, with an apology for intruding. Then my husband clutched me by the throat and choked me to death. Turn this man out and bring the real murderer in. Your officer is all right. I will go now._’” “Very well, doctor.” “Do you feel all right, Pearson?” “I am all right. I’ll just step out for some fresh air.” “I am not satisfied to think that he was in a faint, officer. I have never come in contact with anything like it in my whole experience as a physician. You had hardly left the room until he opened his eyes and looked around.” “Had it not been for the fact that I might have missed some of the words that were being spoken, I should have called you, doctor. I stepped into the room, and there he—the prisoner, I mean—was standing, talking, his eyes open and apparently he was himself. I inquired of Pat what was wrong, and he—the prisoner—answered by saying, ‘I am not guilty.’ The murderer’s name was given, and many more things were said, which I dare not mention now.” “Here is Pat.” “Well, give me my time. I am a brave Irishman, I can bate a fellow to death if need be, but I am not brave enough, when the dead come around and talk to me, to stick around any longer. Faith, I did not see anything, but I surely heard, and I know that I will fall dead if I ever see one of the dead ones walking around here.” “Pat, I can not give you your time. You are needed here. Go along and do your duty, and I will send for you if you are wanted.” “I hope you will never send for me if the dead want me.”