had been placed behind a screen for Mrs. Dane's secretary.

There was one other change. Sperry had brought the walking-stick
he had taken from Arthur Wells's room, and after the medium was
in trance he placed it on the table before her.

The first questions were disappointing in results. Asked about
the stick, there was only silence. When, however, Sperry went
back to the sitting of the week before, and referred to questions
and answers at that time, the medium seemed uneasy. Her hand,
held under mine, made an effort to free itself and, released,
touched the cane. She lifted it, and struck the table a hard
blow with it.

"Do you know to whom that stick belongs?"

A silence. Then: "Yes."

"Will you tell us what you know about it?"

"It is writing."

"Writing?"

"It was writing, but the water washed it away."

Then, instantly and with great rapidity, followed a wild torrent of
words and incomplete sentences. It is inarticulate, and the
secretary made no record of it. As I recall, however, it was about
water, children, and the words "ten o'clock" repeated several times.