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"Where is Dick Terry?" questioned Slade, in a low voice.

"Just coming in," replied Rajah Brahman. "That's Mrs. Garwood, with him. Look him over, Slade. Remember, I'm trying him once more to-night. He'll either believe, or he'll be out for all he can get on me.

"If that's the case, take your cue. You'll have your chance."

Martin Slade grinned sourly in the dark. Dick Terry, husky and glowering, was a type of man he disliked. Treacherous by nature, Slade had no use for any one who detested thieving ways. The hidden observer took a last careful look at Thomas Telford. The elderly man was talking to Benjamin Castelle, who was listening in a sympathetic manner.

Telford, the rajah had told Slade, talked constantly about his son, to any who would show interest. Hence Slade decided that the topic must be that subject which was all-important in the life of Thomas Telford.

Most persons would have felt a sense of pity for the old, careworn man, who had suffered so much remorse during his fruitless search. But Martin Slade was a man who had never known what pity was. His lips curled in a contemptuous smile as he thought of the deception he was to practice upon this gullible individual.

Rajah Brahman drew Slade away.

"Come," he said, in a low voice. "You can stay in the sanctum. This seance won't be long. I am giving consultations to-night."

The low laugh which the faker uttered showed that by "consultations" he meant that the birds were ready for plucking. Slade, familiar with the methods of the medium, laughed in return. They reached the inner shrine. Rajah Brahman, proud as a peacock, strutted about the room. He made an imposing appearance in his Oriental garb, and Slade looked on with admiration. The Rajah was a swindler de luxe.

"Look this over while you're waiting," suggested Rajah Brahman. "It's my bluebook. Information supplied by the dirty dozen themselves."

He handed Slade a heavy, clothbound volume. The man received it with interest, and began to peruse its tabulated, printed pages. The bluebook, a time-honored institution among fraudulent mediums, had become a most powerful instrument in the hands of Rajah Brahman.

In its pages, Slade discovered alphabetical references to all the wealthy persons who were falling for the rajah's crooked game.

The "dirty dozen" were the spirit mediums throughout the country. This volume had been prepared from information which they had supplied to the master faker. Slade noticed, with satisfaction, certain items which were of his doing.

"Daughter, Stella — passed to the spirit plane" — Slade read this reference under the heading of Arthur Dykeman.

He turned to the page that bore Maude Garwood's name, and read aloud.

"Husband, Geoffrey — passed to the spirit plane."

These were but single remarks in pages of useful material. Unclassified numerals appeared upon the borders of certain pages. They were marked in inks of different colors.

Red, Slade decided, meant ordinary fees and contributions. Green must be endowments to the mythical shrine which the rajah claimed to have established in India. Blue were evidently investments in Consolidated Timber; black, sums spent in Coronado Copper.

Slade observed that these final numbers ran well into the thousands. This was the first time that he had ever made a close survey of the notorious bluebook, although he had seen the volume often. He knew that most traveling mediums possessed similar books.

Outside, in the seance room, Rajah Brahman was receiving the faithful. To-night his shining eyes rested upon the countenance of Thomas Telford.

"There is one among us," declared the medium, in his most solemn tones, "who has long been seeking the light. He has failed in a search for one whom he loves. Now he intends to consult the spirits.

"Perhaps he will hear from his son in the spirit plane. Perhaps others, there, will respond. Let us endeavor in his behalf."

He paused and turned his head until he was staring straight at Dick Terry.

"If there are those here who are skeptical," the rajah added in an impersonal tone, "let them refrain from disturbing the manifestations."

There was a challenging sternness in his voice. It was obvious to whom he was speaking. Various believers stared antagonistically toward Dick.

Staring with trancelike gaze, Rajah Brahman began a low incantation. He recited words in Hindustani. Finally, he spoke in English.

"There are four elements: Earth, fire, water, air. It is in water that I see the answer. Let us have water." Imam Singh approached with a huge brass bowl. He placed it at the rajah's feet. As though performing a ceremony, he went away and returned with a Hindu lota, which was filled with water. He emptied the contents of the small bowl into the large, and went to obtain a new supply of the desired element. The process of filling the large bowl required several minutes.