played.

As Bulger stood there, immovable except for the nervous hands which
still twisted and worried the telegram, he saw a sign on the building
opposite. The first line, bearing the name, doubtless, was illegible;
the second, fully legible, lingered for a long time merely in his
perceptions before it reached and touched his consciousness.

"CLAIRVOYANT," it read.

He started, leaned on a table as though from weakness, and continued to
stare at the sign.

"Who is the cleverest fakir in that business?" he said at length to
himself.

And then, after a few intent minutes:

"When he was a freight clerk--thirty years ago--that was at Farnham
Mills--'H.W.'--granite shaft--sure it can be done!"




III

THE LIGHT


As Dr. Blake tucked his racket under his arm and came down to the net,