susceptibility to hypnotic influence, he told me that _Simms had often
put him to sleep for fun, when they met at his sister's house_. The
question which now presents itself is, Suppose he has been hypnotized
and has been given a post-hypnotic suggestion, that he is to 'pull'
Emperor if a certain man waves his handkerchief, how are we to prevent
his carrying out these instructions? Of course, we can take the boy off
the horse and put on another jockey, but Blake does not wish to do this.
"In his waking moments Murphy does not remember anything that has been
told him while hypnotized, and I doubt if we could make Blake believe
that there was any real danger in that quarter. Again, if we allow him
to go in and ride the race, it is more than possible that he could be
made to win or lose the race by any one who had given him orders while
in a hypnotic condition, and we also know that he would forget entirely
that he had received such orders after waking.
"Now, the difficulty presents itself as to how we can prevent him
following out such instructions, in case he has received them. We know
we cannot affect such suggestions by re-hypnotizing him, because we do
not know the exact circumstances under which such directions were given.
To merely hypnotize and tell him he is not to carry out such orders
would have no effect whatever. Perhaps if we could tell him that under
certain described circumstances he was not to carry out such orders we
might succeed.
"But my experience has been that the directions, as given, are carried
out by the subject if, at the time, the circumstance described, which is
to be recognized as a signal for such and such action on the part of the
hypnotized sensitive, occurs _and is noticed_.
"For instance, if I should hypnotize a young man, and say that at eight
o'clock, when he hears the clock strike, he should at once go downstairs
and get a glass of water, he would undoubtedly do it when the clock
struck eight. But if the clock did not strike eight, supposing some one
had removed the striker, and when near the hour some one occupied his
attention so that he did not notice the time, in all probability he
would not obey orders. It requires some special occurrence which has
been described in connection with the act to suggest it again to his
mind.
"In my opinion, the best we can do is to let Murphy ride the race, and
to take all precautions possible to prevent any man waving his
handkerchief to Murphy during the race. Of course, to have any real
effect on the race, the person waving his handkerchief as a signal for
Murphy to 'pull' Emperor must do so far enough from the home stretch to
make it certain that Emperor can be prevented from winning without
attracting especial attention, which could not be done in case Emperor
was in the lead if the signal was given close to the Grand Stand. We,
therefore, must look out for our man, if such a man there be, some
distance down the race-track.
"Now, if you will go to the track with me to-morrow we will station
ourselves in places where we think it likely that such a person would
stand, and keep a sharp watch for a thin, dark man with a scar on his
cheek. Will you join me?"
I assured him I would be more than willing to do so, as I was very much
interested in the case.
"Good! Now, this is my plan. I shall take Mike Falan with me, and he is
worth half a dozen men in the case of a row. I have also engaged three
private detectives to be on the watch at the entrance to the Grand
Stand, and another at the entrance to the grounds, while a fifth is to
station himself at the side of the track, and do sentinel duty about the
half-mile post, with orders to report to me the moment Simms puts in an
appearance, and to have him shadowed. Of course, this elaborate plot may
exist only in my imagination, but if, as I believe, there is a carefully
arranged scheme to beat Blake's horse, we shall have done him a good
turn, and perhaps saved him a lot of money. I must go now, but don't
fail to meet me to-morrow at eleven, at the track. You will find me in
front of the Grand Stand."
The next morning when I arrived at the track I found Dr. Watson in
conversation with a powerful-looking man whom he introduced to me as
Mike Falan. We walked slowly up the track to a point about a quarter of
a mile from the finish. There was a great crowd of people present, the
numbers had gone up for the first race, and most of the horses were
already out and "warming up." Emperor appeared to be in splendid
condition. As he galloped easily up and down in front of the Grand Stand
his great muscles rolled and swelled under the shiny skin, and he looked
and acted like a horse fit to race for his life. He was a prime favorite
at the pools and was selling at two to one against the field.
"I have seen Blake," said Watson, "and he is feeling confident that
Emperor will win. He is somewhat nervous, of course, but he tells me the
horse is in first-class shape, and that Murphy is all right. No signs of
Simms yet and the race will be started in less than ten minutes. It
begins to look as though I have been frightened at a shadow."
At this moment a man touched Watson on the arm and whispered something
to him and then moved quickly away through the crowd. Watson started,
and turning to me said,
"Come this way. Simms is here, he is down the track, below the gate."
He hurried away, Mike and I following, and upon getting clear of the
crowd we saw a man leaning against the picket fence which separated the
track from the carriage drive, watching the horses through a small
field-glass. As we came up, Simms, for it was he, glanced suspiciously
at us, but as we paid no attention to him and talked earnestly together,
apparently arguing as to the relative merits of the horses, he soon
ceased to notice us and turned again to the horses.
Hardly had he done so when he hurriedly put the glass in his pocket, and
a great shout from the Grand Stand and cries of "They're off!" told us
that the great race had commenced.
We could see the horses far off on the opposite side of the track all
running in a bunch, until they neared the half-mile flag, when two were
seen to be well in advance of the others. As they swung round the curve
we could see the red cap worn by Murphy flashing in the sun, and we knew
that Emperor was leading. But another horse, a deep bay, the jockey
dressed completely in blue, was very close to him.
On they came, and Watson and Mike edged closer and closer to Simms,
whose whole attention was fixed on the race. His face was flushed, and
he was actually dancing with excitement. We watched him as a cat watches
a mouse, and it was very lucky for Blake that we did so. The horses were
now quite near us, and we could see Murphy plainly, and noted how white
and drawn his face looked. Suddenly Simms pulled a large white
handkerchief from his pocket, but as he did so the doctor snatched it
from his hand and at the same instant Mike seized him in his powerful
arms, and dragged him from the fence.
Mad with surprise and rage, he struggled and kicked like a wild animal.
"Damn you," he yelled, "let me go; let go, I say! What in hell do you
mean?"
"Let him go, Mike," said the doctor. Mike pushed Simms from him, and he
staggered back against the fence. The man was crazy with rage, and I
believe for the moment he was really insane. He half crouched as if to
spring at us, snarling and showing his teeth like a savage dog, then his
hand went to his hip pocket.
"I wouldn't try that if I were you, Simms," said Watson quietly. "You
will get the worst of it if you do."
Watson's right hand was in the pocket of his sack-coat, and his eyes
said, "I'll shoot," as plainly as if he had told Simms so in so many
words.
"See here, you," cried Mike, "if you pull a gun I'll smash your jaw!"
Simms looked from one to the other of us, with the expression of a
madman. His face was ghastly white, and the scar on his cheek stood out
livid, in contrast with the white skin. I thought for a moment he was
about to draw his revolver, but suddenly he turned and ran toward the
crowd, and in a moment was lost to our view.
The shouting and cheering still kept up, and, as we hurried toward the
Grand Stand, Watson asked a man which horse had won.
"Emperor, by a length,--a great race!"
We found Blake in front of the stand. He came to us and shook hands. His
face was beaming with the joy of success.
"Do you know," he said, "I do believe that something is the matter with
Murphy. He was as pale as a ghost after the race. He said he could
remember nothing about it until he found himself in the home stretch
running neck and neck with Nettie B. Then he seemed to wake from a
dream, and sat down and rode Emperor for all he was worth. You know the
rest. He won out all right, but I tell you it was a confounded sight too
close for comfort."
THE STRANGE POWDER OF THE JOU JOU PRIESTS.
Dr. Watson carefully opened the little antique silver box, which was
about the size and shape of an ordinary watch, and showed that it
contained a gray powder and a little gold measure resembling a miniature
thimble. It was evidently very old, the cover being worn smooth in many
places, nearly effacing the peculiar hieroglyphics with which it had
once been engraved.
"I consider this," he said, "my _chef-d'oeuvre_, my 'star exhibit,' as
it were. The powder possesses such wonderful properties, and is so
unlike any known drug, that I hesitate to describe its effects. That it
is a powerful poison there can be no doubt, but when taken in small
doses it is apparently harmless enough."
"What is its history?" asked Dr. Farrington.
"I picked it up in London. Got it from Burridge, the explorer, who had
just returned from a year's trip in the interior of West Africa. He went
into Benin City with the English when they cleaned out the town.
Burridge says he took it from a dead Jou Jou priest, and he made me pay
a pretty stiff price for it. It is a wonderful drug, entirely unknown
outside of Africa. Burridge thinks it is made from the leaves of some
plant; but its preparation is a secret of the priests of Jou Jou.
"Now, I propose that we each take a small quantity of the powder
to-night, and then dine together to-morrow evening and compare notes. I
may as well tell you now, it produces strange hallucinations. I tried
it once myself, and my experience on that occasion was, to say the
least, peculiar; therefore I am more than anxious to try it again, and
compare notes with you afterwards, and I think I can promise you a new
and novel experience."
Farrington and Forster were perfectly willing to try the experiment
which Watson hinted promised such interesting results, and it was agreed
that each should take a dose of the powder before retiring, and meet
together the next evening.
Promptly at the time appointed, the three men met in Watson's study, and
after cigars had been lighted Watson asked Farrington to be the first to
relate his experience, whereupon the Doctor drew from his pocket several
pages of closely written manuscript, and began as follows:
AN AZTEC MUMMY.
[DR. FARRINGTON'S STORY.]
I was standing in a museum looking at a case of mummies. One of them was
marked "Mummy of an Aztec, found in a Cliff Dwelling," and it interested
me very much. In size it was that of a small man, and was in a fine
state of preservation, with the exception that the bones of the legs
were exposed, and more or less disintegrated, in some places. The hands,
even to the finger nails, were perfect, however, and there was a silver
ring on the index finger. One hand grasped a large stone axe--the handle
being modern. The right hand rested across the chest, clasping a
necklace of silver wire.
"Interesting specimen, is it not?" said a voice at my side.
"Quite so," I replied. "But I doubt if it is really an Aztec mummy."
"What makes you think that?" asked the voice sharply.
"Because I don't believe the Aztecs buried their dead in Cliff
Dwellings. However, it is an interesting mummy, and in a wonderful state
of preservation."
I was so interested in examining the mummy that I had spoken without
turning my head. Now, however, I looked up and saw a tall, gaunt figure
of a man dressed in a suit of corduroy, and wearing a broad-brimmed hat,
or sombrero, such as is generally worn on the Western plains.
"Well," he remarked, "in my opinion, it is a pretty good mummy. I made
it myself, and ought to know."
"Excuse me, what did you say?" I asked, thinking I had not understood
him aright.
"I said that was one of my mummies."
"What do you mean by that, sir?" I asked.
"You will understand when I tell you I was a dealer in curiosities, and
during my time I furnished museums with a great many interesting and
valuable specimens; when trade was slow, I occasionally helped nature a
little, but that is all over now."
"Have you given up the business?" I asked.
"Had to; but perhaps you do not know that I am dead," answered my
companion. "Fell from a cliff last year and broke my neck."
"Did you, indeed?" I answered, trying to appear interested.
"That's what I did. But let me tell you about that mummy. There was a
scientific chap who came to our place and wanted to buy Aztec relics. Me
and my partner made a trade with him and sold him a lot of stuff; but
he was very anxious to be taken where he could dig some up for himself,
'to be sure of the authenticity and antiquity of the relics.' Well, me
and my pard figured up that it might be to our advantage to take him to
a good Cliff Dwelling, and we arranged that he should pay us so much for
everything he dug up. If he found a mummy we got one hundred dollars; if
stone hatchets and axes, two dollars each; arrow-heads, ten cents each;
for stone _matats_ and grinders, one dollar each, taking them as they
came; and whole pottery, five dollars."
"Where did you find the mummy? Did you know of the cave?" I asked.
"Well, we knew where there were lots of caves, and where there were
Indian graveyards. With the aid of a little stain and judicious
arrangement of a body we prepared a fine Aztec mummy. Of course we used
the body of an Indian, one who had been dead for a long time and was
dried up and crumbly. My partner was a clever chap, and he fixed up the
axe and the silver necklace, and we took the outfit and started for the
Verde Canyon. We picked out a good-sized cave, and dug a hole in the
floor, in which we carefully placed the mummy and covered him up with
dry dust; then we wet the clay over him, leaving the floor hard and
smooth as before. We also buried about fifty axes and two or three
hundred arrow-heads, and half a dozen nice specimens of Indian pottery,
which we burned up good and black.
"After we had 'salted' the cave to our satisfaction, we partly sealed up
the entrance and returned to Flagstaff."
"Was that acting quite fair?"
"Fair? Why, how do you think that poor man would have felt if he had
come all the way out to Arizona, and gone to all the expense of his
car-fare and outfit, and then found nothing? It was philanthropy, my
dear sir, the height of philanthropy."
"Was he pleased with the mummy?"
"Pleased? Why, bless your dear, innocent soul, he screamed with joy like
a child, when we accidentally discovered a piece of a toe while digging
in the bottom of the cave! He dropped on his knees and removed every
particle of dirt with his hands, and almost cried over it. He carried on
so that my partner nearly gave us away. He was a chump about some
things: if anything pleased him, he would laugh, and his laugh sounded
like the bray of a jackass.
"Well, sir, when this scientific chap got down on his knees, and
commenced to paw the earth away from the fake mummy, my partner began to
gurgle. I knew what was coming and punched him in the ribs, but it did
no good. The scientific chap looked up and asked what was the matter.
"'Matter?' shouted my pard, and then he roared and yelled and howled.
"A look of doubt and annoyance came into our victim's eyes; but pard
saved himself just in time.
"'Look!' he yelled between his paroxysms of laughter, 'look at that
buzzard over there! I'm damned if he ain't the funniest buzzard I ever
saw in my life,' and then he roared and yelled and jumped about. 'Look
at him,' he laughed; 'see him fly! did you ever see anything so funny?'
"I am not sure but what the scientist thought he was crazy, but anyhow,
he didn't catch on to what he was laughing at, and pretty soon went on
with his digging. We stayed there three days and dug the whole place up
and took back with us a basket full of stone axes, arrow-heads, three
large prehistoric vases, and the mummy. He drove the wagon himself every
step of the way, for fear something would get broken, and when we got
to Flagstaff he spent two days packing the relics."
"Do you consider that sort of thing quite honorable?" I asked.
"Honorable? What is that you say, you squint-eyed dude? Now, my boy,
don't get fresh with me just because I am dead and can't jump you."
I hastened to pacify him.
"Well, that's all right, but if you had said that to me last year when I
was alive I would have marked squares all over your body with a piece of
chalk and then played hop-scotch on you."
"I meant no offence," I said humbly.
"Maybe you didn't. But just you make another break like that, and I
won't forget it; you will have to die sometime, and then,--oh, mamma!"
"Is your partner dead?" I asked.
"No, Jim is not dead by a long shot. I went down to see him last winter
at his place in California, where he has opened up a new store. He has
a good tourist trade--made a lot of money this year out of mermaids and
sea-devils--there was a run on sea-devils this winter. He makes them out
of fishes.
"The mermaids he makes out of fishes' tails and Indian children--robs
the graveyards, you know. Some of them are really fine and artistic. I
tell you he is an artist in his line.
"He has a branch store still somewhere in New Mexico, and made a stack
of money last winter in Navajo blankets and scalp-trimmed Indian arms
and shields. It is the scalp trimming which catches the tourist. He gets
most of his scalps from California, from hospitals there; but when he is
short, horse hair does pretty well, especially for old Indian scalps.
"And then, Navajo blankets. Holy smoke, a gold mine isn't in it! They
make them of Germantown wool and aniline dyes, and they cost at the
factory all the way from six bits to $10, and sell to the tourist for
various prices; sometimes as high as $75 or $80. Oh, I tell you he is
shrewd; some day he will be worth a million!
"Sometimes a chap goes into his shop and poses as an expert--those are
the kind of jays that fill Jim's soul with joy. The fellow will pull
over a pile of blankets, and after looking at them wisely, will say,
'Haven't you got any real good blankets? These are Germantown wool and
mineral dyes.'
"Then Jim will say--'Ah, I see you know something about blankets.'
"'Oh, yes; a little,' answers the expert.
"'The fine old-style blankets are mighty hard to get now,' remarks Jim.
"'I know they are,' remarks the wise tourist, 'but still they are to be
had sometimes, are they not? Come, now, haven't you got something
choice hidden away?'
"Then Jim will look about, as though fearful that somebody might see
him, and will steal softly into a back room and pull from beneath his
bed a good cheap blanket--worth about $3--and spread it out lovingly in
front of the tourist.
"'There,' he whispers; 'look at that; that is not for sale. I am keeping
that for myself, but I thought you would like to see it, as it is very
evident you know a good deal about blankets; isn't it a beauty?'
"Then the tourist 'bites,' and asks him what it is worth, and admires
it, agrees with him as to the splendid old dyes and fine preservation of
the native wool prepared in the manner of the old Navajo, speaks of its
great rarity, and at last ends by asking Jim what he will take for it,
and usually carries it away with him, having paid three or four times
the value of a really good blanket.
"I've seen Jim pull their legs so hard they'd pretty near limp when
they went out. Ah, those were happy days!"
The departed heaved a deep sigh, and gazed silently at his handiwork.
"Well," he said, "I must be going; I have a lot of things I want to do
before morning, but hope to run across you sometime again. Glad you like
the mummy. I forgot to mention that most of the teeth were gone when we
first got it, and Jim put in a fine new set, and improved it a whole
lot."
I glanced at the mummy, and when I looked up again, my companion had
disappeared.
A LESSON IN CHEMISTRY.
[MR. FORSTER'S STORY.]
I took the powder as agreed, and sat down to read the evening paper
before retiring, with the result that I did not retire at all. I became
much interested in an article on new explosives with which the
Government has been lately experimenting, and had nearly finished it,
when I heard a voice say to me, "Interesting subject, isn't it?"
I turned, and saw seated on my lounge a peculiar-looking man: his
clothes seemed to be all run in together. You could make out the
outlines of the man, but the figure was not clear; sort of foggy, you
know. What surprised me most was that I could look right through him
and see that back of the lounge.
I said to myself, "Is this a dream or the effect of the powder I have
taken?" and I pinched my leg, and rubbed my eyes, but although I seemed
to be perfectly wide awake, the shape did not disappear.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I remarked that the subject of high explosives was decidedly
interesting," answered the shape. "I was a chemist when alive, but it
makes me sad to think how very little I really knew. Chemistry, as well
as other branches of science, has made great strides during the past
generation, since my day, but even now they really know very little."
"But," I answered, "it seems to me the high explosives which we now have
are sufficiently powerful if we knew how to use them with safety."
"That's it," answered the shape. "Now, I have a couple of hours to
spare, and, if it would interest you, and you care to come over to my
laboratory, I will be happy to give you one or two points which may
prove of value to you--I say to my laboratory, but it really is not
mine; I use any laboratory that is handiest, and I know most of the good
ones in the city. You see, I do not need to have a key to enter a room;
that is one of the great advantages we have, as you will discover one of
these days. Just now I can get you in very well because the owner of the
laboratory to which we will go is out of town. I will go in first and
unlock the door for you."
I told him that I should be most happy to accept his invitation; it
seemed the most natural thing in the world to be conversing with a ghost
and to have him invite me to go to somebody's laboratory and use up his
chemicals. It never occurred to me that it might not be considered quite
good form. We went out of my rooms and downstairs, the shadow floating
alongside of me in the most friendly manner possible. I could see by the
position of his body that he had hold of my arm, but his fingers did not
show on my coat-sleeve.
We went up town for perhaps half a mile, and entered a large brick
building in which I noted were various studios. It was dark, but going
up three flights of stairs my guide opened a door and ushered me into a
large and extensively furnished laboratory, evidently belonging to some
scientific man of means and experience. The ghost turned the button of
the electric light, and then motioned me to a seat.
"My time," he said, "is somewhat limited, because I have an appointment
with a lady at twelve, but I will show you what a high explosive really
is, and then if we have time we will talk of something else. The
difficulty about high explosives is not in making them, but in using
them after they are made; you create a gigantic power which you do not
know how to handle.
"The rather modern discovery of how to make liquid air has simplified
matters a good deal. When you can make liquid hydrogen in quantities you
will have a still better agent for many purposes. Now, let us take a
little of this liquid air. You see it pours like water. As I happen to
know, our absent host has nearly two gallons of it, or had this
afternoon; some of it has evaporated, but, as you see, there is still
more than a gallon left, and we will not steal much, as all we want for
our experiment to illustrate to you the greatest explosive which can be
manufactured is about as much liquid air as you can hold in a thimble."
"Do you propose to try your explosive here, Mr."--I hesitated. "By the
way, what is your name?"
"Oh, call me any old name; it does not matter!"
"Mr. Spook, shall we say?"