THE RADIO GHOST By Otis Adelbert Kline Author of “The Malignant Entity.” This remarkable story, made so principally by the fact that radio enters into it, is one of the most ingenious we have ever read. The best part about the story, however, is that the radio principles throughout the story are quite accurate. There is nothing fantastic about it, and the thing can be duplicated by any good radio man today. Here, then, is a scientifiction story, thrilling, mysterious, and breathtaking, that we know you will enjoy. [Illustration: “...As I bent over to examine the spot, I heard a cry of warning from the girl and a quick movement behind me. I turned, but could not move in time to avoid the heavy chair which was rushing toward me. It knocked me over and came back, apparently bent on my destruction.”] Dr. Dorp looked up in annoyance when Mrs. Bream came into the room. As was my weekly custom, I had dropped into his study for a short Saturday afternoon’s visit, and the talk had turned to our mutual hobby, psychic phenomena. The learned doctor’s look of vexation had followed the unobtrusive entrance of his housekeeper during a somewhat heated discussion of that physically elusive but psychologically evident substance which has come to be known as ectoplasm. “What is it, Mrs. Bream?” he asked, petulantly. “Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but there’s a young lady to see you.” “What is she selling?” “I believe she wants to consult you professionally, sir.” “Like the book agent who called Wednesday, I suppose. Wanted my opinion of the twelve volumes he was peddling. Well, show her in. We’ll soon see.” I rose to leave the room, but the doctor raised his hand. “Keep your seat, Evans,” he said. “I don’t expect this interview to be either important or protracted.” I resumed my seat, but rose again immediately as a neatly dressed girl entered the room. She was small, golden-haired, and quite pretty. For a moment she glanced at both of us, standing beside our chairs--then evidently decided in favor of the doctor’s grizzled Van Dyke. “I am Greta Van Loan, doctor,” she said, addressing him as if sure she had spoken to the right man. “You recognize me, then?” he asked, drawing a chair forward for her. She sat down lightly, and with exquisite grace. “To be sure. I have seen your picture in the papers ever so many times, usually in connection with your investigations of spiritistic phenomena.” The doctor did not appear to feel flattered. In fact, his look was rather one of boredom, as if he expected something unpleasant to grow out of this subtle blandishment. His voice, however, was quite pleasant as he replied. “Indeed. Will you tell me how I may be of service to you?” She looked at me, and I developed a most unnecessary feeling. I rose once more, this time firmly resolved to take my leave, but again the doctor detained me.