she moved impatiently and told us to put our hands on the table.

I had put my opened watch on the table before me, a night watch with
a luminous dial. At five minutes after nine I felt the top of the
table waver under my fingers, a curious, fluid-like motion.

"The table is going to move," I said.

Herbert laughed, a dry little chuckle. "Sure it is," he said.
"When we all get to acting together, it will probably do considerable
moving. I feel what you feel. It's flowing under my fingers."

"Blood," said Sperry. "You fellows feel the blood moving through
the ends of your fingers. That's all. Don't be impatient."

However, curiously enough, the table did not move. Instead, my
watch, before my eyes, slid to the edge of the table and dropped to
the floor, and almost instantly an object, which we recognized later
as Sperry's knife, was flung over the curtain and struck the wall
behind Mrs. Dane violently.

One of the women screamed, ending in a hysterical giggle. Then we
heard rhythmic beating on the top of the stand behind the medium.
Startling as it was at the beginning, increasing as it did from a
slow beat to an incredibly rapid drumming, when the initial shock
was over Herbert commenced to gibe.

"Your fountain pen, Horace," he said to me. "Making out a statement
for services rendered, by its eagerness."