The old man took off his spectacles and wiped off a mist. His hand was trembling. "I might want to try it later," he said at last, "but I’m not quite ready to, yet—I want to think it over. If you really think that this Vixley can help about the book, I’ll look him up first. I want it to be a success, and I am a bit worried about it." When he reached home he went into the living-room, to find Blanchard Cayley sitting there at ease, bland, suave and nonchalant. Clytie had not yet returned for dinner. Mr. Payson shook his hand cordially. "I’m glad to see you, Blanchard. Been looking over that last chapter of mine? What do you think of it?" "I haven’t had time to read it yet. I’ve been expecting Cly home any minute." "How are you getting on with her? Is she still skittish?" "Oh, it’ll come out all right, I expect," the young man said carelessly. "I hope so! She’s a good girl. I know she’ll see it my way in the end—you just hold on and be nice to her. You know I’m on your side. I’d give a good deal to see Cly married to a good man like you. Strange, she doesn’t seem to take any interest in my work at all. If I didn’t have you to talk to, I don’t know what I’d do. Suppose I read you that last chapter while we’re waiting for her. I’d like to get your criticism of it. That trade dollar material has helped me immensely." For half an hour, while Mr. Payson read the driest of dry manuscripts, Blanchard Cayley yawned behind his hand or nodded wisely, with an approving word or two. The old man had pushed up his spectacles over his forehead and held the sheets close to his eyes. He read in a mellow, deep voice, but it was the voice of a pedant. "There," he said at last, stacking up the scattered papers. "I guess that will open their eyes, won’t it?" "It’s great; that book will make a sensation." "Well, it isn’t finished yet, and what’s to come will be better than what I’ve done. I’m on the track of something that may help it a good deal." "What’s that?" said Cayley perfunctorily. "See here," Mr. Payson drew his chair nearer and shook his pencil at the young man. "I’ve had some wonderful experiences lately. You may not believe it, but I tell you there’s something in this spiritualistic business. I’ve been investigating it for a month now all alone, and I’m thoroughly convinced that these mediums do have some sort of power that we don’t understand." "Really?" Cayley was beginning to be interested. "I knew you had always been an agnostic, but I had no idea that you had gone into this sort of thing. Have you struck anything interesting?" "I certainly have. I went into it in a scientific spirit, as a skeptic, pure and simple, but I’ve received some wonderful tests. Why, they told me my name the very first thing and a lot about my life that they had no possible way of finding out. The trouble is, they know too much." Cayley laughed. "Found out about your wild oats, I suppose?"