* * * * * Next morning a scared maid broke into Linden’s modest study. “Please, sir, it’s an officer.” The man in blue followed hard at her heels. “Name of Linden?” said he, and handing a folded sheet of foolscap he departed. The stricken couple who spent their lives in bringing comfort to others were sadly in need of comfort themselves. She put her arm round his neck while they read the cheerless document: TO THOMAS LINDEN of 40, Tullis Street, N.W. Information has been laid this day by Patrick Murphy, Inspector of Police, that you the said Thomas Linden on the 10th day of November at the above dwelling did profess to Henrietta Dresser and to Amy Bellinger to tell fortunes to deceive and impose on certain of His Majesty’s subjects, to wit those above mentioned. You are therefore summoned to appear before the Magistrate of the Police Court in Bardsley Square on Wednesday next, the 17th, at the hour of 11 in the forenoon to answer to the said information. Dated the 10th day of November. (_Signed_) B. J. WITHERS. On the same afternoon Mailey called upon Malone and they sat in consultation over this document. Then they went together to see Summerway Jones, an acute solicitor and an earnest student of psychic affairs. Incidentally, he was a hard rider to hounds, a good boxer, and a man who carried a fresh-air flavour into the mustiest law chambers. He arched his eyebrows over the summons. “The poor devil has not an earthly!” said he. “He’s lucky to have a summons. Usually they act on a warrant. Then the man is carted right off, kept in the cells all night, and tried next morning with no one to defend him. The police are cute enough, of course, to choose either a Roman Catholic or a materialist as the magistrate. Then, by the beautiful judgment of Chief Justice Lawrence--the first judgment, I believe, that he delivered in that high capacity--the profession of mediumship or wonder-working is in itself a legal crime, whether it be genuine or no, so that no defence founded upon good results has a look in. It’s a mixture of religious persecution and police blackmail. As to the public they don’t care a damn! Why should they? If they don’t want their fortune told, they don’t go. The whole thing is the most absolute bilge and a disgrace to our legislature.” “I’ll write it up,” said Malone, glowing with Celtic fire. “What do you call the Act?”