A moment later, another and distinctly different voice called softly,
"_My son._"
"Who is it?" asked Victor.
"_Your father._"
"What have you to say to me?"
"_The power of the mind is limitless_," the whispered voice replied.
"_Matter, the strongest steel, is but a form of motion._"
"What is all that to me?" asked Victor.
"_As you think so you will be. Be strong and constant._"
The vagueness of all this increased Victor's irritation. "What about
Pettus?"
The voice hesitated, weakened a little. "_I can't tell--not now--I will
ask._"
What followed did not come clearly and consecutively to Victor, for Mrs.
Joyce (who was expert in hearing and reporting the whispers) repeated
each sentence or the substance of it to him. But he himself heard a
considerable part of it. In the very midst of a sentence the voice
stopped. It was as if a wire had been cut, or the receiver hung up; the
silence was like death itself.
Victor called out to his mother: "Can you hear The Voices, mother? They
seem to come from where you are."