The miner followed his host with mild wonder expressed on his face, and as the door closed behind them and they were secure of being overheard, he remarked, with a chuckle: "You headed off old Daddy McLeod out there. First it was Clarke and then Daddy. I thought he had her this time."
Morton ignored this remark and, with most decisive utterance, said: "You must take your wife and daughter out of town by the very next train. Clarke has killed himself, and Viola will be the centre of a flaming sensation to-morrow morning. She must be taken away to-night."
Lambert remained standing, perfectly rigid, for a few moments then slowly seated himself. "Was that your trouble over the 'phone?"
"Yes."
"Who told you?"
"A reporter 'phoning from Pratt's house apparently."
"When did it happen?"
"He said an hour ago. That may mean more or less--A fiend could not have planned a more inclusive revenge. We will all be involved in it. If he died by poison we may even be accused of killing him. They are already in pursuit of you, and the police may arrive at any moment. At the least we will all be summoned before the coroner." He paused a moment. "But that isn't all. I fear the effect of this news on Viola's mind."
Lambert's eyes lost their keen glitter, and his facial muscles fell slack. He spoke in a low voice weighted with deepest conviction. "He will manifest." Then, as a light came into his eyes, he exclaimed: "He was trying to control her just now!"
Morton ignored this remark. "If we can keep this news from her for a few days, I defy any of her so-called 'controls' to affect her."
Lambert stirred uneasily in his chair. "I don't know about that. Clarke had a strong hold on her."
"He is dead. He has done his worst," responded Morton. "I tell you, it is your business to get as far from the city to-night as you can and keep ahead of the news if possible."
"That won't do any good. She is clairvoyant. She'll know of it."
"She didn't know you were coming to-day, did she?"
"No."
"And she has no knowledge yet of Clarke's death. Her attack at the table may have been, as she says, only a feeling of faintness. Besides, he's been dead two hours, and these manifestations always take place at the exact moment of death, do they not?"
Lambert brightened. "That's so! But I'm scared of what'll happen if he should manifest."
"Be assured. He can no more 'manifest,' as you call it, than a dead dog. Keep the newspapers from your wife and daughter, and it will be a long time before they learn of his death through any occult channel. I stake my reputation on that."