"_Yes, very much more convincing_," he replied, slowly and ponderously, "_but do not worry the instrument to-night. Narrow your circle; be harmonious, and not too eager, and you will be abundantly rewarded_." "Won't you tell me who you were on the earth-plane?" "_I was a friend of the father of the instrument_," he answered. The horn returned to the table quietly, and young Howard was the first to speak. "That is a fine piece of ventriloquism, any way you look at it," said he. "It is a nice trick to give that peculiar tinny sound to a whisper." "So far as I can judge, so far as my sense of hearing goes (and I have kept my ear close to the psychic's face), Mrs. Smiley has not moved, nor uttered a sound. What is your verdict, Mr. Cocksure Scientist?" For the first time Miller's voice indicated some slight hesitation. "I haven't been able to _detect_ any movement on the part of the psychic," he replied, "but of course I can't answer for the rest of the company. The performance has no scientific value. In the dark, deceit is easy. Harris may be the ventriloquist." "Why not accuse the arch-conspirator of us all, our director?" exclaimed Mrs. Quigg. "You flatter me," I responded. "If I could produce those voices I would go on the vaudeville stage to-morrow. I give you my word I am acting in entire good faith. I am quite as eager for the truth as any of you.--But, hark! the cone is on the wing again." The megaphone was indeed moving, as if a weak, unskilled hand were struggling with it, and at last it swung feebly into the air, and a whisper that was hardly more than a breath was directed toward Mrs. Quigg: "_Daughter!_" "Are you speaking to me?" she asked, in a voice that trembled a little. The answer was but a sibilant sigh: "_Yes._" "Who are you?" "_Mother._" The answer was so faint that no one save Mrs. Quigg could distinguish the word. Almost at the same moment I caught the sound of other moving lips in the air just before me. "Who is it?" I asked. Like a little, hopeless sigh the answer came: "_Jessie._" This was the name of my younger sister. Then the cone dropped as though falling from exhausted hands, and I had no further message from this "spirit." As we waited breathlessly the clear, silver-sweet voice of a little girl was heard by every one at the table. "_Good-evening, everybody. I am Maud; I came with my mamma. I have come to ask you to be very kind to her._" "I am very glad to hear you, 'Maud,'" I answered. "Are there other spirits present?" "_Yes, many, many spirits. My grandpa is here; he is treating my mamma so that she will not be sick. Some one is here to see you, but is too weak to speak. My grandpa says 'we are trusting you.'_"