“Trouble with the police!” Mrs. Hodges echoed, regarding Penny with unconcealed dismay. “How can it be illegal to rent Mr. Gepper these rooms?”
“Renting the rooms isn’t illegal,” Penny corrected. “But if the young man conducts public séances here—filches money from people—then you may be considered a party to the scheme. This city has a local ordinance prohibiting fortune telling, mind reading and the like.”
“I am sure the young man means no wrong.”
“Penny,” commented Mrs. Weems, “it seems to me that you are overly concerned. Why are you convinced that Mr. Gepper is a medium?”
“Doesn’t this cabinet indicate it?”
“I thought it was some sort of wardrobe closet,” Mrs. Hodges admitted.
“Al Gepper is a medium, or pretends to have spiritualistic powers,” Penny repeated. “In my opinion you’ll be very unwise to allow him to start an illegal business here.”
“Oh, dear, I don’t know what to do now,” declared the seamstress. “I’ll have to ask Pa about it.”
She and Mrs. Weems started downstairs, expecting that Penny would follow. Instead, the girl lingered to inspect the cabinet.
On the lower floor a door slammed, and there were footsteps ascending the stairway. She paid no heed, assuming that it was either Mr. Hodges or his wife who approached.
The door swung open. Turning, Penny saw a young man, possibly thirty years of age, standing on the threshold. His dark eyes were sharp and appraising.
“Hello,” he said, without smiling. “Aren’t you afraid a monkey may jump out of that cabinet?”
Penny, who seldom blushed, felt a wave of heat creeping over her cheeks.
“Hello,” she stammered. “You must be Mrs. Hodges’ new roomer.”
“Al Gepper, at your service. Who are you, girlie?”
“You guessed it,” said Penny shortly, edging away from the cabinet.
Al Gepper remained in the doorway, blocking the exit with his arm. He did not move as the girl attempted to move past him.
“What’s your hurry?” he drawled. “Stick around and let’s get acquainted. I’ll show you some neat card tricks.”
“Thanks, but I haven’t time, Mr. Gepper.”
“What’s your name anyhow?” he persisted. “You’re not Mrs. Hodges’ daughter.”
“No, only a friend.”
“You needn’t be so icy about it,” he rebuked. “Any friend of Mrs. Hodges’ is a friend of mine.”
“I never make friends easily,” Penny replied. “For that matter, I don’t mind telling you that I have advised Mrs. Hodges not to rent you these rooms.”
“Oh, you have?” inquired the man, his eyes hardening. “And what business is it of yours?”
“None, perhaps. I merely am not going to allow her to be taken in if I can prevent it!”
“Oh, indeed. Do you mind explaining?”
“It’s perfectly obvious that you’re one of these fake spiritualists,” Penny accused bluntly. “Your nickname should be Six-Raps Al!”
“A little spit-fire, aren’t you?” the man retorted. “But you have style. Now I may be able to use you in my business.”
“You admit that you’re a medium?”
“I am a spiritualist. Not a fake, as you so crudely accuse. And I assure you I have no intention of deceiving or taking advantage of your dear friends, the Hodges.”
“You expect to use these rooms for public séances?”
“I do.”
“Then you are certain to get the Hodges into trouble with the police.”
“Not unless you start squawking.” Al Gepper’s manner changed abruptly. He grasped Penny’s wrist and pushed a leering face close to hers. “I’m not looking for any trouble from you or anyone else—see! If you try to make it, you’ll wake up with a headache!”
Penny jerked free and, shouldering through the door, raced downstairs.
Glancing back, she saw that Al Gepper was following, though at a more leisurely pace. Instantly she divined that he intended to make sure no report of the incident was given to the Hodges, save in his presence.
Mrs. Weems and the old couple were talking in the kitchen.
“Well, Ma, it’s for you to decide,” Mr. Hodges was saying. “We gave our word to the young feller, and it’s kinda mean to turn him out so sudden like.”
“I regret Penny said anything about the matter.” apologized Mrs. Weems. “You know how out-spoken and impulsive she is. Of course, she has no information about Mr. Gepper.”
“Oh, but I do have information,” spoke Penny from the doorway. “Mr. Gepper has just admitted that he intends to use the room for public séances. Isn’t that true?”
Defiantly, she turned to face the young man who had followed her.
“Quite true,” he acknowledged loftily. “One who has a great psychic gift is duty-bound to allow the world to benefit from one’s talents. The selection of this house as a Temple for Celestial Communication was not mine, but the bidding of the Spirits. In a dream I was instructed to come here and take up residence.”
“What night did you have the dream?” questioned Mrs. Hodges, deeply impressed.
“It was June fifteenth.”
“The very night we heard the strange rappings on our bedroom wall, Pa.”
“Dogonned if it wasn’t!”
“Mr. Gepper, do you truly believe it is possible to communicate with the spiritual world?” Mrs. Weems inquired politely.
“My dear madam, I can best answer by offering a demonstration. Have you a ouija board in the house?”
“Yes, we have,” spoke Mrs. Hodges eagerly. “Pa and I got it from a mail order house years ago, but it never worked for us. You fetch it, Pa.”
Mr. Hodges brought a large, flat board which bore letters and figures. Upon it he placed a small, triangular piece with cushioned legs.
“This do-dad is supposed to spell out messages, ain’t it?” he asked. “Ma and I could never make it work right.”
Al Gepper smiled in a superior way, and placing the board on his lap, motioned for Mrs. Weems to sit opposite him. However, before the housekeeper could obey, Penny slid into the vacant chair. The medium frowned.
“Place your hands lightly on the triangular piece,” he instructed. “Concentrate with me as we await a message from the spiritual world.”
Penny fastened her eyes on the distant wall with a blank stare.
A minute passed. The ouija board made several convulsive struggles, but seemed unable to move.
“The Spirits encounter resistance,” the medium said testily. “They can send no message when one’s attitude is antagonistic.”
“Shall I take off the brakes?” asked Penny.
Even as she spoke the pointer of the triangle began moving, rapidly spelling a message.
“AL GEPPER IS A FRAUD,” it wrote.
The medium sprang to his feet, allowing the board to fall from his lap.
“You pushed it!” he accused. “The test was unfair.”
“Why, the very idea,” chuckled Penny.
“Penny, please allow Mr. Gepper to conduct a true test,” reproved Mrs. Weems severely. “Let me try.”
Al Gepper, however, would have no more of the ouija board. Instead, he took a pad of white paper from his pocket. Seating Mrs. Weems at the kitchen table he requested her to write a message, which, without being shown to anyone in the room, was sealed in an envelope.
The medium pointedly requested Penny to examine the envelope to assure herself the writing could not be seen through the paper.
“You are satisfied that I have not read the message?” he asked.
“Yes,” Penny admitted reluctantly.
The medium took the envelope, ran his fingers lightly over it, and returned it still sealed to Mrs. Weems.
“If I am not mistaken, Madam, you wrote, ‘Is the spirit of my cousin in this room?’”
“Why, I did!” exclaimed Mrs. Weems. “Those were the exact words! How did you know?”
Al Gepper smiled mysteriously.
“You have seen nothing, Madam,” he said. “Now if conditions are right, it may be possible for us to learn if a Spirit has joined our group. Lower the blinds, please.”
Mr. Hodges hastened to obey. With the kitchen in semi-darkness, the medium motioned for his audience to move a few paces away. Taking his own position behind the kitchen table, he intoned:
“Oh, Spirit, if you are with us in the room, signal by lifting this piece of furniture.”
Slowly the man moved his hands above the table. At first nothing happened, then to the astonishment of his audience, it lifted a few inches from the floor. There it hung suspended a moment before dropping into place again.
“You see?” With a triumphant ring to his voice, the medium crossed the room to raise the window shades. “Now do you doubt me?”
“No! No!” cried Mrs. Hodges tremulously. “Only a Spirit could have moved that table. Maud, perhaps it was your Cousin David.”
The medium gazed at Mrs. Weems with sympathetic interest.
“You have lost a loved one recently?” he inquired.
“Cousin David and I never were well acquainted,” replied the housekeeper. “That was why I was so surprised when he left me an inheritance.”
“Mrs. Weems!” remonstrated Penny. She was dismayed by the revelation so casually offered.
“No doubt you would like to communicate with your departed cousin at some later time,” the medium said smoothly. “Allow me to offer my services as an intermediary. No charge, of course.”
“Why, that’s very generous of you, Mr. Gepper.”
“Not at all. Friends of the Hodges are my friends. Shall we set a definite date—say tomorrow at two o’clock?”
“Yes, I’ll come. That is, if the Hodges are to be present.”
“Assuredly. Mrs. Hodges is definitely psychic and should contribute to our séance.”
It was with the greatest of difficulty that Penny finally induced the housekeeper to leave the cottage. Al Gepper accompanied them to the door.
“Tomorrow at two,” he repeated, smiling slyly at Penny. “And you may come also, my little doubter. I assure you it will be well worth your time.”