'
It may have seemed to him that the prophecy
had lagged a bit, awaiting the event, but he said
nothing of that, being concerned with his own con-
dition. He was calm now, and could think coherently.
'Doubtless the phenomenon was subjective,' he
said, with a somewhat ludicrous transition to the
slang of science. 'Granting the possibility of spiritual
apparition and even materialization, yet the appari-
tion and materialization of a half-gallon brown clay
jug--a piece of coarse, heavy pottery evolved from
nothing--that is hardly thinkable.'
As he finished speaking, a child ran into the room
--his little daughter. She was clad in a bedgown.
Hastening to her father she threw her arms about
his neck, saying: 'You naughty papa, you forgot
to come in and kiss me. We heard you open the
gate and got up and looked out. And, papa dear,
Eddy says mayn't he have the little jug when it is
empty?'
As the full import of that revelation imparted it-
self to Alvan Creede's understanding he visibly
shuddered. For the child could not have heard a
word of the conversation.
The estate of Silas Deemer being in the hands of
an administrator who had thought it best to dispose
of the 'business,' the store had been closed ever
since the owner's death, the goods having been
removed by another 'merchant' who had purchased
them en bloc. The rooms above were vacant as well,
for the widow and daughters had gone to another
town.
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