The famed Oriental turned about toward a table, and the laughing broke out afresh. In the center of his back was a large cat's-head, with wonderfully squinting eyes. When the cat slowly closed one distorted optic in a wink, then smiled, there was an unrestrained shout of merriment, and those who were not excitedly inquiring of one another the ident.i.ty of the "seer," settled back in their seats expectantly.

Placing the table at the front of the platform, the professor again faced the audience, and with dignified air, and deep, tragic voice, addressed them.

"Ladees and gentlemans. Ze chairman have spoke. I am Mahmoud Click, ze great seer, ze great mind-read, ze great b.u.mp-read, ze great profess.

(Laughter.) I am ze seventeen son, of ze seventeen son, of ze seventeen son.

"An' also have I bring for do ze magic pa.s.s," thrusting a hand within his robe, "Tom ze Terrible, ze son of Tom, ze son of Tom."

The hand reappeared, and placed on the table a tiny black kitten.

The burst of laughter which greeted this was renewed when the tiny animal began making playful pa.s.ses at a spool on a string which the dignified professor held before it, remarking, "See? Ze magic pa.s.s.

"Now Tom ze Terrible will answer ze question, and show he onderstan' ze Ingleesh," the magician announced, at the same time swinging the spool out of the kitten's sight.

"Tom, how old you are?"

The spool was swung back, the kitten began again hitting at it, solemnly the professor counted to twenty, and whisked the spool away. "Twenty year. Correc'.

"You see, ladees and gentlemans, ze venerable cat he cannot make mistake," he observed amid laughing applause.

"Now Tom, tell some odder ting. How old is ze chairman?" indicating the dignified elderly man at the farther end of the platform. "Five? Correc'.

"You see, he always is right, yes.

"Now, Tom, how old is ze Rev. Mr. Borden?... Seven? Correc' again."

When the laughter which followed this "demonstration" had subsided the professor took up a new line. Earlier in the evening a certain John Peters, one of the town's foppish young gallants, and who now occupied a prominent front seat, had widely announced the fact that he was present for the express purpose of "showing the mind-reader up." At him accordingly the first quip was directed.

"Now Tom, tell ze audience, how many girl have Mr. John Wilberforce Peters?" was asked. "What? None?" For, the spool being held out of sight, the kitten gazed before it stolidly, without raising a foot. "Well, how many does he think he have?"

The spool being returned, the kitten tapped it ten times, paused, and struck it eight more, while the resulting wave of amus.e.m.e.nt grew, and the over-dressed object glowered threateningly at the figure on the platform.

"And how many will he marry?... What? Not one? Well, well," commented the seer, to further hearty laughter.

"Now tell us about some of ze young ladies," the professor went on. "How many beaux has Miss K. O.?" While Kate Orr bridled indignantly the spool was lowered, and the kitten tapped several times on one side, several times on the other, then, to an outburst of laughing and clapping, sat up and began hitting it rapidly with both paws.

"I was unable to keep ze count," announced the seer, "but apparently about ze seventy-five. Miss O. she is popular wiz ze young men, yes.

"And now, Tom," continued the magician, "how many special lady friend have Mr. k.u.mming (an extremely bashful member of the choir)?...

Twenty-two! And how many young lady are in ze choir? Twenty-two!

"Ah! A strange coincidence," observed the learned professor amid much merriment.

With similar quips and jokes the mind-reader continued, then giving the kitten into the charge of a little girl in a front seat, announced:

"Now will I read ze head. Will some small boys please come up and bring their heads and b.u.mps?"

Coaxing finally brought a half-dozen grinning youngsters of eight or ten to the platform. From the pocket of the last to respond protruded the unmistakable cover of a dime-novel. Him the professor seized first, and having gravely examined his head, announced, "Ladees and gentlemans, for this boy I predict a great future. Never have I seen such sign of literary taste. Yes, he will be great--unless he go west to kill ze Indian, and ze Indian see him first."

On turning to the head of the second boy, the phrenologist started, looked more sharply, and slowly straightening up, announced, "Ladees and gentlemans, I have made ze great discovery. This boy some days you will be proud to know. Never have I seen such a lovely b.u.mp--for eat ze pie!

And any kind of pie you will name. He don't care. He will eat it."

And so, to continued laughter, he went on, finding remarkable cake-b.u.mps, holiday-b.u.mps, and picnic-b.u.mps, and proportionately under-developed school and ch.o.r.e-b.u.mps--with the exception of one glowing example, which finally proved to have been developed by a baseball bat.

Then came the "mind-reading." Placing a small blackboard on the front of the platform, facing the audience, the professor seated himself in a chair ten feet behind it, and invited someone to step to the board and write.

"All I ask is," announced the mind-reader, "please write not too fast, and fix ze mind on what you write. And by ze thought-wave will I tell it, letter by letter."

The first to respond wrote the name of his father, a doctor. Expecting only some humorous guess as to what was written, the audience was somewhat surprised when the professor spelled out the name correctly, only adding the humorous touch of "mud," hastily corrected to "M. D." As others followed with figures, and more difficult names and words, the interest of the audience began to take on a new tone.

The last of the first party which had stepped forward to write was the over-dressed young man Alex had poked some of his fun at, and who was bent on "showing him up."

He wrote: "You are a faker."

"Explain to ze audience how I do it, zen, Mr. Peters," retorted the professor. In some confusion Peters sought his seat, and the minister approached the board.

The interest of the audience had now become serious and silent. Even Kate Orr, though knowing there was trickery somewhere, was nonplussed. For Jack, in the front row, appeared as immovable, and as frankly interested as those about him. Loosely folded in his lap was a newspaper which for a moment attracted Kate's suspicious eye; but watching closely, she saw not the hint of a movement that might have been a signal.

The minister's first word was the name Hosea. This was promptly called off, and the writer went on with others, gradually more difficult.

Finally, in rapid succession, one under the other, he wrote "ZEDEKIAH, AHOLIBAH, NEBUCHADNEZZAR." As readily the figure on the platform announced them, and the reverend gentleman turned away with an expression frankly puzzled.

"Pardon me, Mr. Professor, but since this is genuine mind-reading, of course you could read just as well with your eyes blindfolded, could you not? Would you kindly give a demonstration that way?"

It was Peters. There was immediate clapping at the suggestion, and calls of "Yes, yes! Do it blindfolded!"

In alarm Kate, from her seat, gazed toward Jack. To her surprise he was one of the most energetic in clapping the proposal.

The professor himself, however, was plainly disconcerted, to the particular delight of Peters and his circle of friends, who, as the mind-reader continued to hesitate, clapped more and more loudly.

Finally the seer arose. "Well, ladees and gentlemans, if you wish, certainly. Though I do read just as good with my eyes open."

This negative statement brought further derisive laughter and clapping from Peters and his friends, which was added to when the professor continued, "Will some young lady be kind enough to lend me ze handkerchief--ze tiny leetle one with plenty holes all round?"

Peters was again on his feet. "Here is one!"

It was a large, dark neckerchief, obviously brought for this very purpose. As Peters stepped forward and mounted the platform the professor removed his spectacles with apparent reluctance. Broadly smiling, Peters threw the folded kerchief over the mind-reader's eyes, saw that it fitted snugly, and tied it. "Now we've got you, Mr. Smart, of Constantinople,"

he whispered derisively.

"Have ze good time and laugh while you may," responded the professor, and raising his voice he asked, "Will someone kindly bring ze gla.s.s water?

Mind-reading, it is dry."

It was Jack started to his feet, pa.s.sed down the room, and returned with the desired water. Watching, Kate expected to see a consultation between the two boys, as to some way out of the apparent difficulty. Jack, however, merely placed the gla.s.s in the extended hand, and received it back without the exchange of a syllable. Not only that, he returned to the back of the hall, and instead of resuming his seat at the front, mounted to a window ledge at the rear.

"Well, I am ready," announced the professor. "And I make ze suggestion that Mr. Peters himself write ze first."

The latter was speedily at the board. As he wrote, a silence fell.

Previously the professor had called off each letter as written. This time there was no response. With a smile that gradually broadened to a laugh Peters finished an odd Indian name, and asked, "The thought-waves haven't gone astray already, have they, Mr. Professor? Haven't been frightened off by a mere handkerchief, surely?"

"I was wondering how to p.r.o.nounce it," came the quiet response. "I'll spell it instead. It is,