Speaker 1: The Problem of the Crystal Gazer by Jacques Poutrel. With hideous,
goggling eyes, the great god Bud sat cross legged on
a pedestal and stared stolidly into the semi darkness. He saw,
by the wavering light of a peacock lamp, which swooped
down from the ceiling with wings out stretched, what might
have been a nook in a palace of East India.
Draperies hung here there everywhere, richly embroidered vans sprawled about.
Fierce tiger rugs glared up from the floor. Grotesque idols
grinned mirthlessly in unexpected corners. Strange arms were grouped on
the walls. Outside, the trolley cars clanged blatantly. The single
human figure was a distinct contradiction of all else. It
was that of a man in evening dress, smoking. He
was fifty perhaps sixty years old, with the ruddy color
of one who has lived a great deal out of doors.
There was only a touch of gray, and his abundant
hair and mustache. His eyes were steady and clear and indolent.
For a long time he sat. Then the draperies to
his right parted, and a girl entered. She was a
part of the picture of which the man was a contradiction.
Her lustrous black hair flowed about her shoulders, lambent. Mysteries
lay in her eyes. Her dress was the dress of
the East. For a moment she stood looking at the man,
and then entered with light tread. Verick Sihib, she said, timidly,
as if it were a greeting. Do I intrude? Her
voice was softly guttural, with the accent of her native tongue.
Oh no, Jada, come in, said the man. She smiled
frankly and sat down on a hassock near him. My brother,
she asked, he is in the cabinet. Verreck had merely
glanced at her, and then continued his thoughtful gaze into vacancy.
From time to time she looked up at him shyly,
with a touch of eagerness, but there was no answering
interest in his manner. His thoughts were far away. May
I ask what brings you this time, Sahib? She inquired,
at last, A little deal in the market, responded Verec carelessly.
It seems to have puzzled at him as much as
it did me. He has been in the cabinet for
half an hour. He stared on musingly as he smoked,
then dropped his eyes to the slender, graceful figure of Jade.
With knees clasped in her hands. She leaned back on
the hassock, deeply thoughtful. Her head was tilted upward, and
the flickering light fell full on her face. It crossed
Verek's mind that she was pretty, and he was about
to say so, as he would have said it to
any other woman, when the curtains behind them were thrown
apart and they both glanced around. Another man, an East
Indian entered. This man was at him, seeing the crystal
gazer and the ostentatious robes of a seer. He too
was a part of the picture. There was an expression
of apprehension mingled with some other impalpable quality on his
strong face. Well at him, inquired Verik, I have seen
strange things, Sahib, replied the seer solemnly. The crystal tells
me of danger. Danger, repeated Verec, with a slight lifting
of his brows. Oh, well, in that case, I shall
keep out of it. Not danger to your business, Sahib.
The crystal gazer went on with troubled face. But danger
in another way. The girl Jada, looked at him with
quick startled eyes and asked some question in her native tongue.
He answered in the same language, and she rose suddenly
with terror stricken face, to fling herself at Verek's feet, weeping.
Verec seemed to understand too, and looked at the seer
in apprehension death. He exclaimed, what do you mean? And
him was silent for a moment and bowed his head
respectfully before the study, inquiring gaze of the white man. Pardon, Sahib,
he said, at last, I did not remember that you
understood my language. What is it? Insisted Verec abruptly tell
me I cannot Sahib. You must, declared the other he
had arisen commandingly, you must. The crystal Gazer crossed to
him and stood for an instant with his hand on
the white man's shoulder and his eyes studying the fear
he found in the white man's face. The crystal Sahib,
he began, It tells me that that no no brother,
pleaded the girl. Go on. Verrec commanded, It grieves me
to say that which will pain one whom I love
as I do you, Sahib said the seer slowly. Perhaps
you had rather see for yourself. Well, let me see, then,
said Verec. Is is it in the crystal? Yes, by
the grace of the gods. But I can't see anything there.
Verreck remembered, I've tried scores of times. I believe this
will be different, Sahib said, odd him quietly. Can you
stand a shock? Verrec shook himself a little impatiently, of course,
he replied, yes, yes, a very serious shock. Again, there
was an impatient twist of Verk's shoulders. Yes, I can
stand anything, he exclaimed shortly. What is it? Let me see.
He strode toward that point, and the draperies whereat him
had entered, while the girl, on her knees sought with
entreating hands to stop him. No, no, no, she pleaded, No,
don't do that. Verrek expostulated an annoyance, but gently he
stooped and lifted her to her feet. I am not
a child or a fool. He threw aside the curves
as they fell softly behind him. He heard a pitiful
little cry of grief from Jada and set his teeth
together hard. He stood in the crystal cabinet. It was
somewhat larger than an ordinary closet, and had been made
impenetrable to the light by hangings of black velvet. For
a while, he stood still so that his eyes might
become accustomed to the utter blackness, and gradually the sinister,
fascinating crystal ball appeared faintly visible by its own mystic luminosity.
It rested on a pedestal of black velvet. Verrec was
accustomed to his surroundings. He had been in the cabinet
many times. Now. He dropped down on a stool in
front of the table whereon the crystal lay, and, leaning
forward on his arms, stared into its limpid depths unblinkingly.
For one, two three minutes, he sat there with his
thoughts in a chaos. After a while, there came a
change in the ball. It seemed to glow with a
growing light other than its own. Suddenly it darkened completely,
and out of this utter darkness grew shadowy, vague forms
to which he could give no name. Finally, a veil
seemed lifted, for the globe grew brighter, and he leaned
forward eagerly fearfully. Another veil melted away, and a still
brighter light illumined the ball. Now Verrec was able to
make out objects. Here was a table littered with books
and papers. There a chair yonder, a shadowy mantle, And
gradually the light grew until his tensely fixed eyes pained him,
but he stared steadily on. Another quick brightness came and
the objects all became clear. He studied them incredulously for
a few seconds, and then he recognized what he saw.
It was a room, his study, miles away in his apartments.
A sudden number chilliness seized him, but he closed his
teeth hard and gazed on. The outlines of the crystal
were disappearing. Now they were gone, and he saw no more.
A door opened and a man entered the room into
which he was looking. Verrec gave a little gasp as
he recognized the man. It was himself. He watched the
man himself as he moved about the study aimlessly for
a time, as if deeply troubled. Then, as he dropped
into a chair at the desk, Virec read clearly on
the vision face those emotions which he was suffering in person.
As he looked, the man made some hopeless gesture with
his hands. His hands and leaned forward on the desk
with his head on his arms. Verrec shuddered for a
long time. It seemed the man sat motionless. Then Verrec
became conscious of another figure, a man in the room.
This figure had come into the vision from his own viewpoint.
His face was averted. Verrec did not recognize the figure,
but he saw something else and started in terror. A
knife was in the hand of the unknown, and he
was creeping stealthily toward the unconscious figure in the chair himself,
with the weapon raised. An inarticulate cry burst from Verrec's
colorless lips, a cry of warning. As he saw the
unknown creep on on on toward himself. He saw the
figure that was himself move a little, and the unknown leaped.
The upraised knife swept down and was buried to the handle. Again,
a cry, an unintelligible shriek burst from Verrec's lips. His
heart fluttered, and perspiration poured from his face. With incoherent mutterings,
he sank forward helplessly. How long he remained there, he
didn't know, But at last he compelled himself to look again.
The crystal glittered coldly on its pedestal of velvet. That
hideous thing which had been there was gone. The thought
came to him to bring it back to see more,
but repulsive fear terror seized upon him. He rose and
staggered out of the cabinet. His face was pallid, and
his hands clasped and unclasped nervously. Jada was lying on
a divan sobbing. She leaped to her feet when he entered,
and looking into his face, she knew again. She buried
her face in her hands and wept afresh. Had him
stood with moody eyes fixed on the great God Bud
I saw, I understand, said Verac between his teeth. But
I don't believe it. The crystal never lies, Sahib, said
the seer sorrowfully. But it can't be that, Viic declared protestingly.
Be careful, Sahib, Oh, be careful, urged the girl. Of course,
I shall be careful, said Viereck shortly. Suddenly he turned
to the crystal gazer, and there was a menace in
his tone. Did such a thing ever appear to you before?
Only once? Sahib? And did it come true? At him?
Inclined his head slowly. I may see you tomorrow, exclaimed Vereck. Suddenly,
this room is stifling. I must go out with twitching hands.
He drew on a light coat over his evening dress,
picked up his hat, and rushed out into the world
of realities. The Crystal Gazer stood for a moment while
Jada clung to his arm, tremblingly. It is as the
gods will, he said, sadly. At last, Professor Augustus s
f X van Duson the Thinking Machine received Howard Verick
in the small reception room and invited him to a seat.
Verrek's face was ashen. There were dark lines under his eyes,
and in them were the glitter of an ungovernable tear or.
Every move showed the nervousness which gripped him. The Thinking
Machine squinted at him curiously, then dropped back into his
big chair. For several minutes, Verick said nothing. He seemed
to be struggling to control himself. Suddenly, he burst out,
I'm going to die some day next week. Is there
any way to prevent it? The Thinking Machine turned his
great yellow head and looked at him in a manner
which nearly indicated surprise. Of course, if you've made your
mind up to do it, he said, irritably. I don't
see what can be done. There was a trace of
irony in his voice, a coldness which brought Verreck around
a little. Just how is it going to happen? I
shall be murdered, stabbed in the back by a man
whom I don't know, Verick rushed on, desperately. Dear me,
dear me, how unfortunate, commented the scientist. Tell me something
about it. But here he arose and went into his laboratory.
After a moment, he returned and handed a glass of
some effervescent liquid to Verick, who gulped it down. Take
a minute to pull yourself together, instructed the scientist. He
resumed his seat and sat silent, with his long, slender
fingers pressed tip to tip. Gradually Verick recovered it was
a fierce fight for the mastery of emotion. Now directed
the thinking machine at last, tell me about it. Verick
told just what had happened, lucidly enough, and the thinking
machine listened with polite interest. Once or twice he turned
and looked at his visitor. Do you believe in any
psychic force? Verick asked once. I don't disbelieve in anything
until I have proven that it cannot be was the answer.
The god who hung a sun up there has done
other things which we will never understand. There was a
little pause. Then, how did you meet this man, ad
him Sing? I've been interested for years in the psychic,
the occult, the things we don't understand, Verick replied, I
have a comfortable fortune, no occupation, no dependence, and made
this a sort of hobby. I've studied it superficially all
over the world. I met Adaim Sing and India ten
years ago. Afterwards in England where he went through Oxford
with some financial assistance from me, and later here two
years ago. He convinced me that there was something in
crystal gazing. Call it telepathy, self hypnotism, subconscious mental action,
what you will. Since then, the science, I can call
it nothing else, has guided me in every important act
of my life through at him Sing. Yes, and under
a pledge of secrecy. I imagine that is secrecy as
to the nature of his revelations. Yes, any taint of
insanity in your family? Vic wondered whether the question was
in the nature of insolent reproof or was a request
for information. He construed it as the latter. No, he answered,
never a touch of it. How often have you consulted
mister Singh Many times? There have been occasions when he
would tell me nothing, because he explained the crystal told
him nothing. There have been other times when he advised
me correctly. He has never given me bad advice, even
in intricate stock operations. Therefore, I have been compelled to
believe him in all things. You were never able to
see anything yourself in the crystal until this vision of
death last Tuesday night. You say that was the first.
How do you know the murder is to take place
at any given time? That is next week? As you say,
that is the information at him sing gave to me.
Was the reply, he can read the visions. They mean
more to him than in other words, he makes it
a profession. Interrupted the scientist. Yes, go on. The horror
of the thing impressed me so both of us that
he has, at my request twice invoked the vision since
that night. He, like you, wanted to know when it
would happen. There is a calendar by weeks in my study.
That is, only one week is shown on it at
a time. The last time the vision appeared, he noted
this calendar. The week was that beginning next Sunday, the
twenty first of this month. The only conclusion we could
reach was it would happen during that week. The Thinking
Machine arose and paced back and forth across the room,
deeply thoughtful. At last he stopped before his visitor. It's
perfectly amazing, he commented emphatically. It approaches nearer to the
unbelievable than anything I have ever heard of. Verick's response
was a look that was almost grateful. You believe it impossible, then,
he asked, eagerly. Nothing is impossible, declared the other aggressively. Now,
mister Verick, you are firmly convinced that what you saw
was prophetic, that you will die in that manner, in
that place. I can't believe anything else. I can't, was
the response. And you have no idea of the identity
of the murderer to be, if I may use that phrase,
not the slightest. The figure was wholly unfamiliar to me.
And you know you know that the room you saw
in the crystal was yours. I know that absolutely, rugs, furniture, mantle, books,
everything was mine. The Thinking Machine was again silent for
a time. In that event, he said, at last, the
affair is perfectly simple. Will you place yourself in my
hands and obey my directions implicitly? Yes, there was an eager,
hopeful note in Verrek's voice. Now I am going to
try to disarrange the affairs of fate a little bit,
explained the scientist gravely. I don't know what will happen,
but it will be interesting to try to throw the
inevitable that preordained, I might say, out of gear, won't it.
With a quizzical grim expression about his thin lips, the
thinking machine went to the telephone in an adjoining room
and called someone. Verik heard neither the name nor what
was said, merely the mumble of the irritable voice. He
glanced up as the scientist returned. Have you any servants
valet for instance? Asked the scientist. Yes, I have an
aged servant, a valet, but he is now in France.
I gave him a little vacation. I really don't need
one now, as I live in an apartment house almost
a hotel. I don't suppose you happen to have three
or four thousand dollars in your pocket. No, not so
much as that was the puzzled reply. If it's your fee,
I never accept fees, interrupted the scientist. I interest myself
in affairs like these because I like them. They are
good mental exercise. Please draw a check for say, four
thousand dollars to Hutchinson Hatch. Who is he asked Verick.
There was no reply. The check was drawn and handed
over without further comment. It was fifteen or twenty minutes
later that a cab pulled up in front of the house. Hutchinson, Hatch, reporter,
and another man, whom he introduced as Philip Byrne, were
ushered in. As Hatch shook hands with Verick, the thinking
Machine compared them mentally. They were relatively of the same size,
and he bobbed his head as if satisfied. Now, mister Hatch,
he instructed, take this check and get it cashed immediately,
then return here, not a word to anybody. Hatch went out,
and Burne discussed politics with Verick until he returned with
the money. The Thinking Machine thrust the bills into Burne's
hand and he counted it, afterwards, stowing it away in
a pocket. Now, mister Verick, the keys to your apartment, please,
asked the scientist. They were handed over and he placed
them in his pocket. Then He turned to Verick. From
this time on, he said, your name is John Smith.
You are going on a trip, beginning immediately with mister Byrne. Here.
You are not to send a let, a postal, a telegram,
or a package to anyone. You are to buy nothing.
You are to write no checks. You are not to
speak to or recognize anyone. You are not to telephone
or attempt in any manner to communicate with anyone, not
even me. You are to obey mister Burne in everything,
he says. Verick's eyes had grown wider and wider as
he listened. But my affairs, my business, he protested. It
is a matter of your life or death, said the
thinking machine. Shortly. For a moment, Verick wavered a little.
He felt that he was being treated like a child.
As you say, he said. Finally, now, mister Burne continued
the scientist. You heard those instructions. It is your duty
to enforce them. You must lose this man and yourself,
take him away somewhere, to another place. There is enough
money there for ordinary purposes. When you learn that there
has been an arrest in connection with a certain threat
against mister Verick, come back to Boston to me and
bring him. That's all. Mister Burne arose with a business
like air. Come on, mister Smith, he commanded. Verick followed
him out of the room. Here was a table littered
with books and papers. There a chair yonder, a shadowy mantle.
A door opened, and a man entered the room. Moved
about the study aimlessly for a time, as if deeply troubled,
then dropped into a chair at the desk, made some
hopeless gesture with his hands, and leaned forward on the
desk with his head on his arms. Another figure in
the room, knife in his hand, creeping stealthily toward the
unconscious figure in the chair. With the knife raised, the
unknown crept on on on. There was a blinding flash,
a gush of flame and smoke, a sharp click, and
through the fog came the unexcited voice of Hutchinson, Hatch, reporter,
stay right where you are, please. That ought to be
a good picture, said the Thinking Machine. The smoke cleared,
and he saw at him, sing, standing watching with deep concern,
a revolver in the hand of Hatch, who had suddenly
arisen from the desk in Verick's room. The Thinking Machine
rubbed his hands briskly. Nah, I thought it was you,
he said to the Crystal Gazer. Put down the knife, please,
that's right. It seems a little bold to have interfered
with what was to be like this, But you wanted
too much detail, mister Singh, you might have murdered your
friend if you hadn't gone into so much trivial theatrics.
I suppose I am a prisoner, asked the Crystal Gazer.
You are, the thinking Machine assured him cheerfully. You are
charged with the attempted murder of mister Veracsick. Your wife
will be a prisoner in another half hour, with all
those who are with you in the conspiracy. He turned
to Hatch, who was smiling broadly. The reporter was thinking
of that wonderful flashlight photograph in the camera that the
Thinking Machine held, the only photograph in the world so
far as he knew, of a man in the act
of attempting an assassination. Now, mister Hatch, the scientist went on,
I will phone to Detective Mallory to come here and
get this gentleman, and also to send men and arrest
every person to be found in mister Singh's home. If
this man tries to run shoot. The scientist went out,
and Hatch devoted his attention to a sullen prisoner. He
asked half a dozen questions. In receiving no answers, he
gave it up as hopeless. After a while, Detective Mallory
appeared in his usual state of restrained astonishment, and the
Crystal Gazer was led away. Then Hatch and the Thinking
Machine went to the Adam Singh house. The police had
preceded them and gone away with four prisoners, among them
the girl Jada. They obtained an entrance through the courtesy
of a policeman left in charge, and sought out the
crystal cabinet. Together they bowed over the glittering globe as
Hatch held a match. But I still don't see how
it was done, said the reporter. After they had looked
at the crystal, the Thinking Machine lifted the ball and
replaced it on its pedestal half a dozen times, apparently
trying to locate a slight click. Then he fumbled all
around the table above and below. At his suggestion, Hatch
lifted the ball very slowly, while the scientist slid his
slender fingers beneath it. Ah he exclaimed at last I thought, so,
it's clever, mister Hatch. Clever, just stand here a few
minutes in the dark, and I'll see if I can
operate it for you. He disappeared, and Hatch stood staring
at the crystal until he was developeding a severe case
of the creeps himself. Just then a light flashed in
the crystal, which had been only dimly visible, and he
found himself looking into the room and Howard Verick's apartments
miles away. As he looked, startled, he saw the Thinking
Machine appear in the crystal and wave his arms. The
creepiness passed instantly in the face of this obvious attempt
to attract his attention. It was later that afternoon that
the Thinking Machine turned the light of his analytical genius
on the problem for the benefit of Hatch and Detective Mallory.
Charlatanism is a luxury which cost the peoples of the
world incredible sums. He began. It had its beginnings, of course,
in the dark ages, when a man's mind grasped at
some tangible evidence of an infinite power, and through its
very eagerness, was easily satisfied. Then quacks began to prey
upon man and due to this day, under many guises
and under many names. This condition will continue until enlightenment
has become so general that the man will realize the
absurdity of such a thing as nature or the other
world's forces going out of its way to tell him
whether a certain stock will go up or down. A
sense of humor ought to convince him that disembodied spirits
do not come back and rap on tables in answer
to asinine questions. These things are merely prostitutions of the
divine revelations. Hatch smiled a little at the lecture platform tone,
and Detective Mallory chewed his cigar uncomfortably. He was there
to find out something about crime. This thing was over
his head. This is merely preliminary, The thinking machine went
on after a moment. Now, as to this crystal gazing affair,
a little reason, a little logic. When mister Verick came
to me, I saw he was an intelligent man who
had devoted years to a study of the so called occult.
Being intelligent, he was not easily hoodwinked. Yet he had
been hoodwinked for years. Therefore, I could see that the
man who did it must be far beyond the blundering
fool usually found in these affairs. Now, mister Verick personally
had never seen anything in any crystal. Remember that until
the vision of death. When I knew this, I knew
that vision was stamped as quackery. The mere fact of
him seeing it proved that. But the quackery was so
circumstantial that he was convinced. Thus we have quackery. Why
for a fee? I can imagine successful guesses on the
stock market bringing fees to Adahim Sing, But the vision
of a man's death is not the way to his
pocket book. If not for a fee, then what a
deeper motive was instantly apparent. Mister Verick was wealthy, He
had known Sing and had been friendly with him for years,
had supplied him with funds to go through Oxford, and
he had no family or dependence. Therefore, it seemed probable
that a will, or perhaps in another way, Sing would
benefit by mister Verick's death. There was a motive for
the vision, which might have been at first an effort
to scare him to death because he had a bad heart.
I saw all these things when mister Verick talked to
me first, several days after he saw the vision, but
did not suggest them to him. Had I done so,
he would not have believed so sordid a thing, for
he believed in Singh, and would probably have gone his
way to be murdered or to die of fright, as
sing intended. Knowing these things, there was only the labor
of trapping a clever man. Now, the Hindu mine works
in strange channels. It loves the mystic that theatric and
I imagined that, having gone so far seeing, would attempt
to bring the vision to a reality. He presumed, of course,
that mister Verick would keep the matter to himself. The
question of saving Verick's life was trifling. If he was
to die at a given time in a given room,
the thing to do was to place him beyond possible
reach of that room. At that time I phoned to you,
mister Hatch, and asked you to bring me a private
detective who would obey orders. And you brought mister Byrne.
You heard my instructions to him. It was necessary to
hide mister Vereck's identity, and my elaborate directions were to
prevent anyone getting the slightest clue as to him having
gone or as to where he was, I don't know
where he is now. Immediately mister Verick was off my hands.
I had Martha, my housekeeper, write a note to Sing
explaining that mister Verick was ill and confined to his
room and for the present was unable to see anyone.
In this note a date was specified when he would
call on Sing. Martha wrote, of course, as a trained
nurse who was in attendance merely in daytime. All these
points were made perfectly clear to Sing that done, it
was only a matter of patience. Mister Hatch and I
went to mister Verick's apartments each night. I had Martha
there in daytime to answer questions, and waited in hiding.
Mister Hatch is about Verick's size, and a whig helped
us along. What happened then? You know, I may add
that when mister Verick told me the story, I commented
on it as being almost unbelievable. He understood as I meant,
he should that I referred to the vision. I really
meant that the elaborate scheme which Singh had evolved was unbelievable.
He might have killed him just as well with a
drop of poison or something equally pleasant. The thinking machine
stopped as if that were all, But the crystal asked, Tatch,
how did that work? How is it? I saw you?
That was a little ingenious, and rather expensive, said the
thinking machine, so expensive that sing must have expected to
get a large sum from success. I can best describe
the manufacture of the vision as a variation of the
principle of the camera obscura. It was done with lenses
of various sorts and a multitude of mirrors, and required
the assistance of two other men, those who were taken
from Singh's house with Jada First. The room in mister
Verick's apartments was duplicated in the basement of Singh's house,
even to rugs, books, and wall decorations. There two men
rehearsed the murder scene that mister Verick saw. They were disguised.
Of course, you have looked through the wrong end of
a telescope. Of course. Well, the original reduction of the
murder scene to a size where all of it would
appear in a small mirror was accomplished that way. From
this small mirror there ran pipes with a series of
mirrors and lenses through the house, carrying the reflection of
what was happening below so vaguely though the features were
barely distinguishable. This pipe ran up inside one of the
legs of the table on which the crystal rested, and
then by reflection to the pedestal. You, mister Hatch, saw
me lift that crystal several times, and each time you
might have noticed the click. I was trying to find then,
how the reflection reached it. When you lifted it slowly
and I put my fingers under it, I knew there
was a small trap in the pedestal covered with velvet.
This closed automatically and presented a solid surface when the
crystal was lifted, and opened when the crystal was replaced.
Thus the reflection reached the crystal, which reversed it the
last time and made it appear right side up to
the watcher. The apparent growth of the light in the
crystal was caused Below. Someone simply removed several sheets of gauze,
one at a time from in front of the first lens. Well,
exclaimed Detective Mallory. That's the most elaborate affair I ever
heard of. Quite right, commented the scientist. But we don't
know how many victims sing had. Of course, any vision
was possible with the change of scene in the basement.
I imagine it was a profitable investment, because there are many
fools in this world. What did the girl have to
do with it, asked Tatch. That I don't know, replied
the scientist. She was pretty. Perhaps she was used as
a sort of bait to attract a certain class of men.
She was really Singh's wife, I imagine, not his sister.
She was a prominent figure in the mummery with Verrick.
Of course, with her aid, sing was able to lend
great effectiveness to the general scheme. A couple of days later,
Howard Verick returned to the city in tow of Philip Byrne.
The Thinking Machine asked mister Verick only one question of consequence,
how much money did you intend to leave Singh? About
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was the reply. It
was to be used, under his direction in furthering an
investigation into the psychic He and I had planned just
how it was to be spent. Personally, mister Verick is
no longer interested in the occult and of the problem
of the Crystal Gazer by Jacques Foutrelle