Part 73 (1/2)

The control did not reply instantly. The light keeper pressed his question.

”Does it?” he demanded.

”Yes... yes,” stammered the Blossom. ”Yes, Julia say sellee Raish what he wantee buy.”

”Wantee BUY? What have I got he wants to buy?”

”Julia she sayee you know. She say 'De--De--Develop stock.' That's it.

Yes, Develop stock. She sayee you sell Raish Develop stock. She sayee she wantee you to. You do right then.”

The foghorn howled once more. Captain Jethro was standing erect beside his chair. When, at last, he did speak, his tone was still more tense and threatening. Even the shallowest mind in that room--and, as Miss Phipps had said, practically every ”crank” within ten miles was present--even the shallowest realized that something was impending, something ominous.

”Do you mean to say,” demanded Jethro Hallett, speaking very slowly, ”that Julia's, my wife's spirit is tellin' me to sell my four hundred shares of Wellmouth Development stock to Raish Pulcifer? Do you mean that SHE says that?”

Little Cherry Blossom croaked twice, but the second croak was a feeble ”Yes.”

”SHE says that? Julia, my dead wife, tells me to do that?”

”Yes. Yes--yes--yes. She say you sell Raish four hundred Develop stock and you be so gladee. She be gladee, too. She--”

”STOP!”

The light keeper's shout rang through the room. ”Stop!” he shouted again. ”You--you LIAR!”

The word shot from beneath his teeth and, judging by the effect, might have hit almost every individual in the room. There was absolute silence for just the briefest instant; then a chorus of faint screams, exclamations, startled and indignant protests. Above them all Primmie's call upon her Lord of Isrul sounded plainly. Captain Jethro paid no heed.

”You liar!” he roared again. ”Out of my house, you swindler! You d.a.m.ned cheat!”

This blast, delivered with the full force of the old skipper's quarter-deck voice, had the effect of completely upsetting the already tense nerves of the majority in the circle. Two or three of the women began to cry. Chairs were overturned. There was a babel of cries and confusion. The light keeper stilled it.

”Be still, all hands!” he shouted. ”Turn up them lamps! Turn 'em up!”

Mr. Cabot, although himself somewhat startled and disturbed by the unexpected turn of events, was at least as cool as any one. He reached over the prostrate heap at his feet--it was Ophelia Beebe hysterically repeating: ”He's gone crazy! He's gone loony! OH, my soul! OH, my land!

WHAT'LL I do?” and the like--and turned up one of the lamps. Obed Taylor did the same with the other.

The sudden illumination revealed Captain Jethro, his face pale, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng fire, holding the dumpy Miss Hoag fast in her chair with one hand and with the other brandished above her head like the hammer of Thor. The audience, for the most part, were in various att.i.tudes, indicating alarm and a desire to escape. Mrs. Harding had a strangle hold on her husband's neck and was slowly but inevitably choking him to death; Mrs. Peters, as well as Miss Beebe, was on the floor; and Primmie Cash was bobbing up and down, flapping her hands and opening her mouth like a mechanical figure in a shop window. Lulie and Martha Phipps, pale and frightened, were trying to force their way to the captain's side.

Galusha Bangs alone remained seated.

The light keeper again commanded silence.

”Look at her!” he cried, pointing his free hand at the cowering figure of the medium. ”LOOK at her! The lyin' cheat!”

Marietta was, in a way, worth looking at. She had shrunk as far down in the chair as the captain's grip would permit, her usually red face was now as white as the full moon, which it resembled in some other ways, and she was, evidently, as Primmie said afterwards, ”scart to death and some left over.”

Lulie called.

”Father, father,” she pleaded. ”Please--oh--please!”