human
Mrs. Markham and the little girl went to the matinee next afternoon. Now I'm comin' to her. You let me tell this story _my_ way. The cook was bakin' in the kitchen, Ellen the parlor maid, who had to stay home to answer bells, was gossipin' with her. Martin was cleanin' out the furnace. I had the run of the house. First thing I looked at was the third step from the top of the stairs. I worked out two tacks in the carpet--wasn't much trouble; they come out like they was used to it. I pulled the carpet sideways. Sure enough, there was a wide crack just below the step, and when I peeked in, I could see the electric connections. Question was, where was the bell? But I had something to think of first. Where would Mrs. Markham have a cabinet if she ever done materializin'? I had thought that all out--a little alcove library in the rear of the back parlor. Give you plenty of room, when the folding doors were open, for lights and effects. If there _was_ a ceiling trap, it must be in the rooms above. I went into--into the rooms --here Rosalie paused an infinitesimal second as though making a mental shift--
gpt
I WAS LOOKING STRAIGHT DOWN ON THE BACK PARLORS
human
I went over the house again to be sure I was alone, before I pulled out the nail. Well, sir, what happened like to knocked me over. The minute that nail come out, a trap rose right up--on springs. I just caught it in time to stop it from making a racket. I was looking straight down on the back parlors. It's one of those flossy, ornamented ceilings down there, and a panel of those ceiling ornaments came up with the bottom of the trap. But that wasn't the funny thing about that trap, nice piece of work as it was. It's a regular cupboard. Double, you understand. Space in between--and all the fixings for a materializin' seance, the straight fixings that the dope sees and the crooked ones that only the medium and the spook sees, tucked inside. A shutter lamp, blue glass--a set of gauze robes, phosphorescent stars and crescents, a little rope ladder all curled up--and whole books of notes. Right on top was --she paused impressively to get suspense for her climax--
gpt
--another impressive pause--
human
The what?
gpt
The full information on him--dead sweetheart, passed out thirty years ago up-state. Fine job with good little details--whoever got 'em must 'a' talked with somebody that was right close to her--an old aunt, I'm thinking. But no medium made them notes. Looks like a private detective's work. Not a bit of professional talk. The notes on Robert H. Norcross. See!
human
Didn't I tell you! he cried.
gpt
Didn't I tell you!
human
What I'm wondering, she said,
gpt
Does look curious, replied Dr. Blake,
human
Something's a little wrong there, responded Rosalie.
gpt
Quiet, and dopey, and strange. That, --her voice fell to soft contemplation,--
human
We must get her out of there! he exploded;
gpt
Well, that's what I'm takin' your money for, ain't it?