The Come Back Part 16

"Rubbish," she replied flatly.

Shelby looked at her. "But," he said, "I've been told that you can work the Ouija Board wonderfully!"

"Work the Ouija Board! What sort of talk is that? Do you mean push it, to spell what I want it to?"

"No; I spoke carelessly. I mean use the Board with results that are surprising."

"Who can't do that?"

"Lots of people--myself, for one. Let's try it now, Carly. Will you?"

"Certainly, if you like. And, if you'll give me your word of honor that you won't voluntarily or purposely urge the thing in any direction or toward any letter."

"Of course I promise that! Where'd be the fun if we cheated? You promise, too?"

"Yes, indeed. Like you, I've no interest if either pushes the least mite."

They placed themselves with the board between them on their knees.

It was but a short time before the little heart-shaped block began to move.

Carly, who was no novice, said in a sing-song way: "Is there a spirit present?"

The board slid quickly to the corner marked "yes."

"Will you spell out your name?" Carly went on in a very matter-of-fact voice.

The pointer went from letter to letter, now hurriedly and now making wide circling sweeps, but it spelled correctly "Peter Boots."

Shelby kept most careful watch on Carly's finger-tips. He could see that there was no apparent muscle movement, no surrept.i.tious pus.h.i.+ng and no motion of any sort save to follow the moving board. Her hands were quite evidently resting as lightly as his own on the wood, and the board without doubt moved without the voluntary help of either.

"Shall we go on?" asked Carly, in a half whisper.

"Go on? Of course!" returned the other.

"Peter, have you a message for us?" Carly asked, again using that calm, uninflected tone.

"Yes," pointed the board, and then, as they settled down to receive it, the wooden heart spelled rapidly: "Do not grieve for me-- I am happy."

Carlotta looked disappointed. "Oh, dear," she said, "I'm so tired of that message! I thought Peter would do better than that! Let's try again."

Again the board moved, and the message came, "Tell mother not to grieve----"

"Oh, Peter," Carlotta said, in real impatience, "do say something beside those stereotyped phrases! Tell us something we don't know, something about yourself."

"Tell us how you died," said Shelby, suddenly.

"Yes, tell us that," Carly repeated.

The board moved more slowly.

"I was," it spelled, and "Go on!" the girl urged "I was--in the snow----"

"Yes, yes--go on."

"And I fell down, and I--I--couldn't get up."

"Why not?" this sharply from Carly.

"H----" the board stopped; then went on, "Heart failure."

"I thought so!" exclaimed Shelby; "there aren't any wild animals up there in----"

"Hush--it's moving again," said Carly.

"Heart gave out," the board spelled, moving rapidly now. "Couldn't make the boys hear. Could only gurgle in my throat. Couldn't shout. So I died."

"Do you believe it?" asked Carly, her big, brown eyes solemn and serious.

"Yes, I do," said Shelby. "It's highly probable, anyway. Go on, Peter, tell us something else."

Whether Shelby "believed" or not, he was deeply interested, and his breath came faster as he saw the revealing letters spell various messages.

Both performers watched the four hands as the board moved under them.

And, the most intense scrutiny could discover no voluntary movement or a.s.sistance to the uncanny instrument.

Many messages were of slight importance, and then came a sudden, "I say, Shelby, why don't you marry Carly?"

The girl gasped, then smiled, but Shelby looked up, dumbfounded.

"Oh, Carly," he said, "if you only would!"

"Hus.h.!.+" she reproved him. "I'll put the board away if you do such things! You know you pushed it that time!"

"I didn't, Carly, truly--word of honor, I didn't! I'd no idea what was coming! Oh, Carly, darling, I love you, and--dear, whether Peter sent that message or not--won't you--can't you----"

They had risen, casting aside the board, and Shelby took her hands in his. "Dearest," he said, "I wanted to tell you, but I was waiting--for--for Peter's sake. Now--he wants it! So, dear heart--my little girl--won't you----"

"No," said Carlotta.

CHAPTER VII

The Tobacco Pouch

It was doubtless owing to Benjamin Crane's att.i.tude regarding his son's death that the home did not present more the aspect of a house of mourning. Both Crane and his wife were not only resigned to Peter's fate, but they seemed positively happy in what they believed to be continued communion with his spirit.