He grinned once more, with a great display of gleaming white teeth, and flung out his long arms. "My sleeves, you will observe, are empty!" he cried. "No trickery. But within five hours of where we sit--five hours by fast automobile--is a little town. And in that town there is a little medium. No, Wills, you have never seen or heard of her. It is only myself who found her by chance, who studied her long and prayerfully. Come with me, Wills--she will teach you how little you know and how much you can learn!" _2. "You Can Almost Hear the Ghosts."_ I have sat down with the purpose of writing out, plainly and even flatly, all that happened to me and to Doctor Otto Zoberg in our impromptu adventure at psychic investigation; yet, almost at the start, I find it necessary to be vague about the tiny town where that adventure ran its course. Zoberg began by refusing to tell me its name, and now my friends of various psychical research committees have asked me to hold my peace until they have finished certain examinations without benefit of yellow journals or prying politicians. It is located, as Zoberg told me, within five hours by fast automobile of Washington. On the following morning, after a quick and early breakfast, we departed at seven o'clock in my sturdy coupé. I drove and Zoberg guided. In the turtle-back we had stowed bags, for the November sky had begun to boil up with dark, heavy clouds, and a storm might delay us. On the way Zoberg talked a great deal, with his usual charm and animation. He scoffed at my skepticism and prophesied my conversion before another midnight. "A hundred years ago, realists like yourself were ridiculing hypnotism," he chuckled. "They thought that it was a fantastic fake, like one of Edgar Poe's amusing tales, _ja_? And now it is a great science, for healing and comforting the world. A few years ago, the world scorned mental telepathy----" "Hold on," I interrupted. "I'm none too convinced of it now." "I said just that, last night. However, you think that there is some grain of truth to it. You would be a fool to laugh at the many experiments in clairvoyance carried on at Duke University." "Yes, they are impressive," I admitted. "They are tremendous, and by no means unique," he insisted. "Think of a number between one and ten," he said suddenly. I gazed at my hands on the wheel, thought of a joking reply, then fell in with his mood. "All right," I replied. "I'm thinking of a number. What is it?" "It is seven," he cried out at once, then laughed heartily at the blank look on my face. "Look here, that's a logical number for an average man to think of," I protested. "You relied on human nature, not telepathy." He grinned and tweaked the end of his beard between manicured fingers. "Very good, Wills, try again. A color this time." I paused a moment before replying, "All right, guess what it is." He, too, hesitated, staring at me sidewise. "I think it is blue," he offered at length.