"It was mailed from New York," the girl observed.

"I mean the hour at which the envelope was stamped by the postmaster."

"I make it 11:30 P.M. June fifteenth," Penny read aloud. "Does the time and date have special significance?"

"Indeed, it does," the seamstress replied impressively. "You tell them, Pa."

"It happened three nights ago," began Mr. Hodges. "Ma worked late st.i.tchin' up some playsuits for Mrs. Hudson's little girl. Afterwards we had bread and milk like we always do, and then we went to bed."

"At the time, I said to Pa that something queer was going to happen,"

broke in the seamstress. "I could feel it in my bones. It was as if something was hovering over us."

"A feeling of impending trouble?" questioned Penny.

"Nothing like that," said Mr. Hodges.

"No, it was as if one almost could feel a foreign presence in the room,"

Mrs. Hodges declared, lowering her voice. "A supernatural being."

"Surely you don't believe in ghosts...?" Penny began, but the seamstress did not hear. Unheeding, she resumed:

"Pa rubbed my back to ease the pain I get from working too long at the machine. Then we went to bed. Neither of us had gone to sleep when suddenly we heard it!"

"Six sharp raps on the outside bedroom wall," supplied Mr. Hodges. "It was like this." He demonstrated on the table.

"We both heard it," added Mrs. Hodges. "It scared me nearly out of my wits."

"Possibly it was someone at the door," suggested Penny.

"No, it wasn't that. Pa got up and went to see."

"Could it have been a tree bough brushing against the wall?"

"It wasn't that," said Mr. Hodges. "The maple is too far off to strike our bedroom."

"There's only one explanation," declared the seamstress with conviction.

"It was a psychic sign--the first."

"I don't believe in such things myself," announced Penny. "Surely there must be another explanation."

"That's what I told Jenny," nodded Mr. Hodges. "But since the letter came, doggoned if I don't think maybe she's right."

"What has the letter to do with it?" inquired Mrs. Weems.

The seamstress pointed to the postmark on the envelope.

"The hour at which we heard the strange tappings was eleven-thirty! Pa looked at the clock. And it was three days ago, June fifteenth."

"Corresponding to the marking on this envelope," commented Penny. "That is a coincidence."

Mrs. Hodges shook her head impatiently.

"You surely don't think it just happened by _accident_?" she asked. "It must have been intended as a sign--an omen."

"What did the letter say?" Penny inquired, without answering Mrs. Hodges'

question. She knew that her true opinion would not please the woman.

"It wasn't rightly a letter," the seamstress returned. "The envelope contained six silver dollars fitted into a stiff piece of cardboard."

"We figured it was another sign," contributed Mr. Hodges. "Six raps on the wall--six dollars."

"I wish some ghost would come and pound all night long on my bedroom door," remarked Penny lightly.

"Penelope, you shouldn't speak so disrespectfully," Mrs. Weems reproved in a mild voice.

"Excuse me, I didn't mean to," said Penny, composing her face. "What else has happened of a supernatural nature?"

"Why, nothing yet," Mrs. Hodges admitted. "But Pa and I have had a feeling as if something important were about to take place. And now Maud inherits six thousand dollars!"

"There was nothing psychic about that," said Mrs. Weems. "Cousin David had no close relatives so he left the money to me."

The seamstress shook her head, and an ethereal light shone in her eyes.

"Night before last when I went to bed I was thinking that I wished with all my heart something nice would happen to you, Maud. Now it's come to pa.s.s!"

Even Mrs. Weems was somewhat startled by the seamstress' calm a.s.sumption that her thoughts had been responsible for the inheritance.

"Don't you see," Mrs. Hodges resumed patiently. "It must mean that I have great psychic powers. I confess I am rather frightened."

Penny arose and began to b.u.t.ton her raincoat.

"Excuse me for saying it," she remarked, "but if I were you, Mrs. Hodges, I'd spend the six dollars and forget the entire affair. Someone must have played a joke on you!"

"A joke!" The seamstress was offended. "People don't give away money as a joke."

"No, these days they squeeze the eagles until they holler," chuckled Mr.

Hodges.

"The letter was postmarked New York City," went on his wife. "We don't know a soul there. Oh, no one ever can make me believe that it was done as a joke. The letter was mailed at exactly the hour we heard the six raps!"

"And there wasn't a sign of anyone near the house," added Mr. Hodges.

"Well, at least you're six dollars ahead," said Penny. "Shall we go, Mrs.

Weems? It's after midnight."

The seamstress walked to the door with the callers.

"I'll get busy tomorrow on those new dresses," she promised Mrs. Weems.