Read Other Worlds for Free Online

Yet they offer several important clues. Note, if you please, that some of the visitors came with the avowed intention of exposing the fraud, and that they failed to do so. Note also that in its treatment of the callers the Spirit was far from inconsistent. It reserved its jeers and slaps for the skeptics, and treated courteous visitor with courtesy.
    The pattern is even clearer when we turn to its relations with close friends—I almost said "its close friends." Some of the Bells' neighbors got to be on excellent terms with the Spirit. It "enjoyed the gab," as the saying went, and was less apt to play nasty tricks when it was busy talking. Thus it was a true act of kindness for one of John Bell's friends to offer to chat with the Spirit for a few hours. The poor man probably took advantage of the peace and quiet to snatch a little sleep.
    James Johnson, the first neighbor to make its acquaintance, was a particular favorite. Though it teased him and called him "Old Sugar Mouth," it acknowledged his admirable character. But James was not as entertaining as his son John, and the Spirit relished matching wits with this gentleman. John's character seems to have been well known to his neighbors; he put on a great show of candor and geniality, but he was not above using trickery to gain his ends. His brother Calvin, on the other hand, was without guile, a man of utter simplicity and honesty.
    One evening the brothers were discussing some of the Spirits antics with their hosts. Was it corporeal, but invisible? It must have hands; too many people had felt its hard slaps.
    The Spirit chimed in. Yes, it had hands, would Calvin like to hold one of them, just for a moment?
    Calvin certainly would.
    "You must promise not to hold on, or squeeze it," warned the voice.
    Calvin promised. He held out his hand.
    The fingers that rested on his, shyly and fleetingly, were as soft and delicate as those of a woman.
    A trifle miffed, John asked to be granted the same favor.
    "You only want a chance to catch me," the Spirit said shrewdly.
    "No, no, I promise."
    "I know you, John Johnson. You are a grand rascal, trying to find me out, but I won't trust you."
    So Calvin Johnson was the only person who ever felt the Spirit's touch—except for slaps and pinches. But another neighbor actually got his arms around it.
    William Porter had spent night after night with the Bells in the hope of helping them. He and the Spirit were on good terms; it enjoyed his conversation almost as much as it did that of John Johnson. William, called Billy by his friends, was unmarried. His house was a typical bachelor log cabin, with only two rooms. There was a single fireplace at one end of the larger room. The second room was Billy's bedroom, and on cold nights he left his door open so the warmth of the fire could reach him.
    One winter evening Billy arrived at the Bells to find a large company assembled, waiting for the Spirit to make an appearance. It was obvious that he was very excited, and he needed little persuasion to tell his story.
    "It was a cold night last night, and I made a big log fire before retiring, to keep the house warm. As soon as I got in bed I heard scratching and thumping about the bed. Just like Kate's tricks, as I thought, but was not long in doubt as to the fact. Presently I felt the cover drawing to the back side, and immediately the witch spoke.
    '"Billy, I have come to sleep with you and keep you warm.'
    "'Well, Kate,' I replied, 'if you are going to sleep with me you must behave yourself.'
    "I clung to the cover, feeling that it was drawing away from me, as it appeared to be raised from the bed on the other side, and something snakelike crawling under. I was never afraid of the witch, or apprehended that it would do me any harm; but somehow this produced a kind of chilly sensation, a freak of all-overishness that was simply awful. The cover continued to slip in spite of my tenacious grasp and was twisted into a roll on the back side of the bed,