"Why, he went to investigating spiritualism and fell into the hands of a man named Harry Wing and a gang of mediums here. They won Bennett over to a firm belief, step by step, till he was the dupe of every ghost that appeared in the materializing circles, which cost him twenty-five dollars an evening, by the way. One man that helped Wing out, played spirit, pretended to be his dead son, and used to ask him for jewelry so that he could dematerialize it, and then rematerialize it for identification. If Bennett went down to Los Angeles he’d take the same train and turn up at a circle there, proving he was the same spirit by the rings that had been given him up here. Well, Bennett got so strong for it that after a while they didn’t bother with cabinets and dark séances—the players used to walk right in the door. Then they’d tell him that, as partly materialized spirits, they ought to have dinner to increase their magnetism, and he’d send out for chicken and wine. Finally they got him so they’d point out people on the street and assert that they were spirits. The prettiest test was when they materialized Cleopatra. I’ve never seen the Egyptian queen, but she certainly wasn’t a bit prettier than the girl who played her part. Bennett, as an extraordinary test of her strength, was allowed to take her out to the Cliff House in a hack. The curtains of the carriage had to be pulled down to keep the daylight from burning her." "Oh, Cliff House, what crimes have been committed in thy name!" Fernigan murmured. "Next, they made Bennett believe that his influence was so valuable in accustoming spirits to earth-conditions, that they were going to reveal a new bible to him, with all the errors and omissions corrected, and he would go down to posterity as its author. In return, he was to help civilize the planet Jupiter. You see, Jupiter being an exterior planet was behind the earth in culture. Bennett contributed all sorts of agricultural implements and furniture to be dematerialized and sent to Jupiter, there to be rematerialized and used as patterns. Wing even got him to contribute a five hundred dollar carriage for the same purpose. It was sold by the gang for seventy-five dollars, and even when it was shown to Bennett by his friends, who were trying to save him, he wouldn’t believe it was the same one. They milked him out of every cent at last, and he died bankrupt." Granthope had scarcely finished his story when the drawing-room doors were half opened and Mrs. Page appeared on the threshold pouting. "Aren’t you ever coming in here?" she exclaimed petulantly. "You might let us have Mr. Granthope, at least." The men rose and sauntered in, one by one.