keep it in your mind, look toward it. Follow me--not too
closely--and mentally push me in the way I should go. If I go
wrong, will me back to the right path, but in no case get near
enough to touch me, and, of course, do not speak to me. This
test is entirely that of the influence of your will upon mine.
Call it telepathy, thought-transference, will-power--anything you
choose, but grant my request that you devote all your attention
to the work in hand. If your mind wanders, mine will; if your
mind goes straight to the goal, mine will also be impelled
there."

With a slight bow, Hanlon stood motionless, ready to start.

The preliminaries had taken place on a platform, hastily built
for the occasion, and now, with Mortimer behind him, Hanlon
started down the steps to the street.

Reaching the pavement, he stood motionless for a few seconds and
then, turning, walked toward Broad Street. Reaching it, he
turned South, and walked along, at a fairly rapid gait. At the
crossings he paused momentarily, sometimes as if uncertain which
way to go, and again evidently assured of his direction.

The crowd surged about him, now impeding his progress and now
almost pushing him along. He gave them no heed, but made his way
here or there as he chose and Mortimer followed, always a few
steps behind, but near enough to see that Hanlon was in no way
interfered with by the throng.

Indeed, so anxious were the onlookers that fair play should