Home Fun

It need scarcely be said that the object of the wizard’s passes and incantations is to give the assistant time to open and close the mirrors, as the case may be.

Care must be taken when making such a cupboard that the mirrors shall be flush with the sides at every point, and that when drawn out they meet at an angle of 45° from the walls. This is imperative in order that they shall reflect the actual walls of the cupboard exactly.

The illusion known as

The Mandarin’s Head

is arranged upon a principle somewhat similar to the foregoing.

To the spectators the effect is this. A box, standing upon a simple card-table, is opened and seen to contain a human skull. Remarking that he will call up the original owner of the skull, the wizard closes the box, mutters a few incantations, reopens it, and displays a living human head as shown in Fig. 4.

This head laughs, speaks, and nods, and in numberless other ways shows itself to be no mere imitation. The box having been closed again, the incantations are reversed, and on the casket being opened once more the skull is found inside as at first.

The secret of this remarkable illusion requires but little explanation. In the first place, the table has a hole in its top sufficiently large to allow of the passage of a human head. The hole is closed by a trap from below, after the manner shown in Fig. 5, which may be described in detail thus: A, B, C, D is the table, and E the lid filling the circular hole. This lid is hinged by G to the table, whilst a bolt, F, running through the loops I, I in the table and H, H in the lid, secures the latter in its place. Upon drawing this bolt the lid opens downwards.

As a matter of fact, the simple card-table is not so innocent as it looks. Indeed, the spectators do not really see under the table at all. The surrounding screen is reflected in a couple of mirrors shown in Fig. 6. Let A, B, C, D be the four legs of the table, and A, E, D, E two mirrors placed in the form of a V between them, and reaching from the table top to the floor.

The result of this arrangement is that the two front legs, B, C, are reflected in the mirrors in such a way as to appear to the spectators to be the back legs, A, D, whilst, as in the former experiment, the reflections of the walls G, H, F, K, appear to be the actual back F, G, of the screen.

When the magician first opens the box the lid of the table is closed, and a skull, imitation or otherwise, rests upon it. But no sooner does he close the box than the lid is let down by a confederate, concealed in the space A, E, D, and the skull removed by him.

This confederate, who has already been properly prepared, protrudes his face through the hole, and, when the box is opened, acts his part to life. When the box is closed he removes his head from the hole in the table, replaces the skull on the lid, and the trick is done!

The arrangement of mirrors has all along concealed his body, whilst, as already explained, the audience has been deceived into thinking they can see beneath the table.

The wizard must take great care to make all his approaches to the table directly from the front, as, should the reflection of his legs appear in the mirrors, the “game would be all up.”

An illusion known as

“The Head of Mary Queen of Scots”

is worked almost in the same manner.

The effect of the trick is shown in Fig. 7, where the head of the unfortunate Queen is seen resting upon the hafts of two axes laid over the arms of a chair.

It need scarcely be said that the whole trick lies in the construction of the chair, illustrated by Figs. 7 and 8. The peculiarity about the chair is that the back only reaches down to the spot where the arms join it, thus leaving a space behind the seat. This space is concealed from view by a slanting mirror, the bottom of which rests on the seat, whilst the top comes between the arms of the chair. This mirror must incline at an angle of 45° from the seat.

The haft of one of the axes laid across the chair arms serves to conceal the upper edge of the mirror, so that when a head is thrust upwards, it has the appearance of resting upon the ax handle.

In the curtain against which the chair is placed there must be a hole exactly corresponding to the empty space in the back of the chair.

Now, through this hole a girl, whose face and hair have already been made up to look like that of the murdered Queen of Scots, thrusts her body just far enough to allow the head to appear above the edge of the mirror. Owing to the angle at which it is placed the mirror reflects the seat of the chair in such a way that it appears to be the missing portion of the back. The spectators see nothing of the girl’s body; all that is presented to their horrified gaze is the trunkless head of the beautiful but unfortunate Queen.

When Three are a Crowd

Most people know the old saying, “Two are company, three are a crowd,” and a glance at the illustration shows this may really be true.

If three persons stand in a prism-shaped arrangement of mirrors, as indicated in plan in Fig. 9, an innumerable series of reflections would appear and the three would in reality become a crowd.

The Floating Lady

A most interesting illusion is that of The Floating Lady, which, perhaps, should first be described from the point of view of the audience.

The magician appears upon the stage leading by the hand a fairy-like lady. Introducing her to the spectators as Mademoiselle Volatile, he describes her susceptibility to his powers of mesmerism, in proof of which he offers to keep her suspended in the air for any length of time.

Mlle. Volatile accordingly lies upon a board supported by two trestles or chairs of the same height. Next the wizard walks round her, carefully disposing of her drapery and tucking it neatly about her feet. He makes a few mesmeric passes, examines her pulse carefully, and removes the trestles. The lady is seen suspended in the air as in Fig. 10. After a short time the magician reverses his passes, and smilingly helps Mademoiselle to the ground.

All this is very mysterious until Fig. 11 “gives the show away.”

A, B represents the back of the scenery through which a hole, E, is bored. This hole is concealed by a little drapery on the face of the curtain. Behind the scenes is a simple contrivance, the principle of which can be seen from the cut. It consists of a strong upright F, which branches into two arms, each of which terminates in a journal, H, H. Through these journals runs an iron bar, D, which, terminating at one end in the handle, G, has the other end protruding through the hole in the scenery.

In the board, C, upon which the lady lies, is a socket to receive the end of the handle.

Now, whilst the lady is putting herself in position on the board, the magician can walk right round her, for the bar has not yet been protruded through the scenery. But, at a signal from him, an assistant behind the curtain seizes the handle, G, thrusts the bar through the hole as far as it will go, and holds the handle firmly.

Whilst adjusting the lady’s robe the magician fits his end of the bar into the socket in the board, and, still arranging the folds of her drapery, carefully conceals any sign of what he has done. Having ascertained that everything is safe, he removes the trestles, and the board, with its living burden, is maintained in the air by the iron bar.

After replacing the supports the bolt is withdrawn by the assistant behind the scenes, and no one suspects the existence of the very material support which has kept the lady in the air.

Houdin’s Mesmerism

Robert Houdin used to exhibit to large audiences with startling success the following example of his mesmeric powers. For the sake of clearness, let it be supposed that the magician and Mademoiselle Volatile are performing the trick.

After the usual remarks as to his powers of mesmerism, and how they set at nought the laws of gravitation, the magician introduces the fair lady, who wears a short skirt for the occasion.

Taking two sticks, each about five feet long, the wizard requests Mademoiselle to step upon a stool. Placing one of the sticks beneath each arm-pit, he then begins the incantation.

When the mystic words have been pronounced and the correct passes made, the magician removes the stool, and Mlle. Volatile appears suspended between the two sticks. One or two more passes are made and then the wizard removes the stick from beneath her left arm, Fig. 12, slowly raising her body to a horizontal position, as in Fig. 13, and passing a hoop around her to show there is no hidden support from behind.

Having left the lady thus suspended for some time, he lowers her to the perpendicular once more, replacing the stick under her left arm and putting the stool beneath her feet. She is then awakened from the trance.

The stick beneath Mademoiselle’s right arm is of special construction, having a core of iron extending its entire length. The lower end fits firmly into a socket in the floor, whilst the upper end itself contains a socket the use of which is explained later.

Beneath the lady’s clothing, in fact next her skin, is a well-padded iron cage, shown in Fig. 14. This cage consists of an iron band, H, G, F, which passes round the body beneath the arm-pits of the wearer. It is straight behind and somewhat V-shaped in front. A strong leather strap, E, is fastened to the band at I, passing between the legs and up the back, where it is fastened to the band again at G. Another piece of iron stretches from H by the side of the body to a point above the right knee, where it terminates in a loop of sufficient size to encircle the leg. Every part of this cage must be well covered to avoid any discomfort to the wearer.

At H (Fig. 15) is a small bar hinging at B to a piece of iron, A, which, in its turn, fits into the socket already mentioned in the prepared stick. This hinge, B, contains several notches, X, X, X, the use of which is now explained. The bolt G, is fastened to the leg-piece D, and catches the notches X, X, X at the other end.

It will be obvious that when Mlle. is in her cage with the bolt C in the lowest notch X, she will be maintained perfectly securely in a perpendicular position. When the wizard lifts her horizontally, he releases the bolt and moves the cage with its occupant upon the hinge B. Having placed her in position, he shoots the bolt into the top notch, where it holds the cage firmly.

The whole cage, being beneath her costume, is quite invisible to the audience, and as soon as the experiment is completed Mlle. runs off the stage and divests herself of this somewhat uncomfortable arrangement.

The Indian Basket

This familiar deception is yet sufficiently thrilling to prove fascinating to the most blasé of spectators. With a little practice it can easily be worked at home, and the following hints will explain the performance.

The magician, dressed as Bluebeard, leads Fatima on the stage, and, during the course of a short conversation, discovers that she has been prying into matters which had better have been left alone. In a fit of passion he draws his sword and rushes upon her, whereupon Fatima falls to her knees, crying for mercy. Bluebeard is obdurate, but after many tears from his wife he consents that she shall be blindfolded, to prevent her being a witness of her own fate. He binds a black scarf across her eyes, but has barely finished, when she breaks away, and rushes from the stage.

Bluebeard pursues hotly, and in another moment returns dragging the blindfolded girl after him. He puts her into a wicker basket, fastens the lid, and with a savage grin, thrusts his sword through and through the basket, his victim shrieking at every stroke.

Having worked the spectators to a pitch of agonized excitement, the murderer throws down his sword, unfastens the lid of the basket, and stoops to gaze on his sanguinary work.

The basket is empty!

Staggering back with a look of horror, he suddenly perceives the “slaughtered” Fatima herself appearing from amongst the spectators, pointing at him accusingly!

The deception in the trick is twofold. Firstly, the basket is of special construction, and secondly, there are two Fatimas.

With regard to the basket the solution is shown in Figs. 16 and 17. The first illustrates the appearance of the basket when Fatima is thrust inside.

The lid, A, B, is plain, and hinged to the top at C, D. The back, E, G, F, J, is similarly hinged at G, J. The top, E, C, F, D, is double, having a duplicate, L, K, hinged at E, F.

Having placed Fatima in the basket, Bluebeard thrusts his sword through and through the wicker-work, carefully avoiding the spot where, as he knows, the girl is lying. At each stroke she screams lustily, as though the blade were piercing her body.

Then, deftly pushing down the back of the basket, E, G, F, J (Fig. 17), she rolls herself out upon it, drawing after her the false top, E, K, by doing which the original back is entirely replaced. She is now lying outside the basket, which is, of course, empty when opened by Bluebeard.

Now comes the question of the two Fatimas. The girl who is put into the basket is not the one who was blindfolded by Bluebeard. When Fatima rushed away pursued by her murderer her place was taken by another girl waiting behind the scenes similarly dressed and of the same height and figure. The bandage upon her eyes hid from the spectators any difference in features.

The substitute having been apparently slain by Bluebeard, the original Fatima slipped in at the back of the auditorium, slowly walked down amongst the spectators (who recognized her face) and confronted the assassin. In the confusion that naturally followed, the substitute managed to leave her place behind the basket and vanish from the stage.

The Disappearing Princess

This is an illusion originally produced at one of the French ballets.

A train of slaves appears, bearing a palanquin, in which reclines a dazzlingly beautiful Princess. The slaves march slowly round the stage, allowing the spectators ample opportunity to inspect the palanquin from all sides.

Suddenly a band of brigands rushes upon the scene, with the obvious intention of seizing the lovely Princess. Flourishing their glittering swords and brandishing all manner of fearsome weapons, they surround the palanquin and its terrified bearers.

The robber chieftain advances with uncouth flattery, assuring the lady that not a hair of her head shall be touched. But the only answer she makes is to lower in his face the curtain of the litter.

Furious at such an insult, the robber stretches out his hand, and with a single touch causes the curtains to fly open.

The Princess has disappeared!

Gazing at one another in astonishment, the villains search for the vanished lady, but their endeavors proving fruitless, they eventually decide to butcher the slaves and carry off the palanquin as booty.

At this moment a handsome young Prince springs into view; the robbers, startled at his sudden appearance, take to flight, and abandon all thought of their prey.

In his turn the Prince approaches the palanquin, sees it empty, and questions the slaves, who can only say that their mistress was there, but has disappeared. Pulling the curtains aside to see if they offer a solution to the mystery, he releases them almost instantly, and the lovely Princess is found reclining upon the litter, smiling so charmingly that the Prince then and there loses his heart.

The explanation of all this is very simple. In Fig. 18 the lady is sitting upon what appears to be the bottom of the palanquin. In reality it is a false floor placed upon the real one. At each corner are attached cords that run up the four columns and are counterpoised by heavy weights.

When drawing the curtains, the Princess releases a catch, whereupon the counterpoise and cords immediately draw her, together with the false floor upon which she rests, to the roof of the palanquin, which has been so painted as to make it appear shallower than it really is. By pressing another spring she is enabled to lower herself once more, in time to appear before the fortunate and admiring Prince.

CHAPTER XXV
THE ROOM OF MYSTERY

How to Make a Haunted House

One winter evening three boys—Jim Thompson, his cousin Will White, and a friend named Handley—approached the door of Bobbie Cargill’s house. Bobbie was a genius for inventions, and they all felt a desire to see his home.

As they reached the door, White, who was a cynic in his own way, raised his hand to the knocker and was about to give a thundering “rat-tat,” when the door silently opened, revealing an empty hall in which the light flickered dimly.

After a glance of surprise at one another the guests entered.

“Close the door! Wipe your boots, and come upstairs!”

The visitors started violently as these words were uttered by a hollow voice, coming from nowhere in particular, and yet quite close to where they were standing.

After a moment Handley said in a whisper, “I don’t much like this. It seems——”

“Hang up your hats, and be quick about it,” the ghostly voice interrupted sharply. “Are you going to stand chattering there the whole night? Hang up your hats, I say!”

This was not a pleasant beginning, yet none of the guests cared to show the white feather.

“Come on!” said White. “Let’s see it through”; and setting an example he placed his hat upon the nearest peg.

Crash! Amidst a clatter as of broken glass the hat and peg fell to the ground. The three boys looked at one another in consternation!

But before they had time to remark on this misfortune, a shriek of weird laughter rang in their ears. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” The invisible person seemed in paroxysms of mirth at their disaster.

“I don’t care for this a bit,” muttered Handley; “let’s clear out.” They were all about to beat a hasty retreat when Bobbie Cargill appeared, apparently much surprised at finding his visitors making an awkward group in the hall.

“How did you fellows get in,” he said, “and what have you been doing? Has there been an accident? Never mind, come along upstairs and have a ‘feed’; perhaps you will feel better then!”

Nothing loth, the three guests followed their host to his own room, which usually went by the name of “The Den.” The upper part of the house was totally dark, and it was with a feeling of relief that they saw a glimmer of light beneath the door of “The Den.”

“Step inside and make yourselves at home,” said Cargill. “I will just run and say that you have arrived,” and he disappeared into the darkness.

Followed by the others, White turned the handle and threw the door open, glad to find a light once more. But the pleasure was short-lived, for the door had scarcely opened half-way when the light went out.

White, however, strode into the room, and his friends were about to follow, when there was a heavy stumble, a crash, and a smothered shout that was instantly drowned in the violent clatter and ringing of bells about their very ears.

“What has happened?” gasped Handley, scarcely able to hear his own voice in the deafening clamor. Advancing into the darkness, a violent report beneath his feet caused him to leap into the air with alarm, whilst in the gloom White was trying to make himself heard above the pandemonium.

“Here, Cargill, get a light for goodness’ sake!” howled Handley, as their host appeared. “I don’t know what on earth has happened; it seemed like a pistol going off.”

“You fellows are making a fine noise between you,” shouted Cargill. “Get inside, Jim, and turn on the light; it’s just to the left.” Jim had no sooner stepped across the threshold and begun searching for the switch, than BANG! BANG!—the very floor seemed thundering beneath him, whilst a rattle as of a thousand pots falling to the ground made the confusion worse. Leaping back hastily, he collided with Handley, and the couple sat down with a ponderous thud.

“That’s right; make yourselves comfortable!” laughed Bobbie Cargill. As he spoke the light was turned on, the jangling bells ceased, and the three guests were discovered gazing ruefully at one another, whilst their host, calm and collected, smiled down on them from the doorway.

It was some time before Bobbie could pacify his guests. Indeed, the situation might have become painfully awkward had they not happened to glance at the table, which certainly looked inviting. Knives and forks glistened cheerfully on a spotless white cloth, whilst dainty mats and sparkling cruets promised a really substantial “feed.” A large center-piece full of flowers added to the appearance of the table, and showed that Bobbie Cargill knew how to do things “in style.”

Following their host’s example, the three chums took their seats at the table and glanced round the room. It was a cozy “Den,” and looked cheerful, with a sparkling fire on the hearth. A thick curtain was drawn across the window at Cargill’s back, lending an air of comfort to the place.

Before each guest was a napkin, neatly mitered, with a piece of bread reposing between the horns, and scarcely noticing what he was doing, White drew this piece of bread from its resting-place.

A sharp exclamation drew attention to him. There he sat, a mass of bread-crumbs before him, and a look of surprise on his face!

“Have you had an accident?” grinned Cargill. “Never mind the crumbs, they can soon be scooped up; wait a minute until I fetch the tray.”

He had scarcely risen when a roar of laughter burst from Jim and Handley. By some strange means the entire mass of crumbs had been swept off the cloth and scattered all over the place.

“You might have waited for me to clear them away,” grumbled Bobbie, and this was the beginning of a heated discussion, which would probably have ended violently had not the host turned the conversation by asking Jim if he would take a piece of tongue.

“Yes, please,” answered Jim.

Sharpening his knife in a business-like manner, Cargill made ready to cut a slice.

But at this point a strange thing happened. As soon as the knife and fork got near the tongue, it leaped from the dish and clung tenderly to the knife. For a moment or two it hung suspended, and then flopped back into the dish.

“Let’s have another try,” said Cargill in a puzzled way. Up it jumped once more, apparently too anxious to be carved to remain still on the plate.

A murmur of surprise escaped the guests as all eyes were fixed upon this strange behavior. Once more the carver thrust his knife near the tongue, caught it neatly as it ascended, and carried it away to a side table, where he was obliged to bury his face in a handkerchief, presumably overcome with grief.

Having recovered somewhat, the host resumed his seat, remarking, “I think that tongue is best out of the way. I am afraid I have nothing better to offer you than some potatoes. You might help them round, Handley.”

Before his friend had time to reply, the lid of the tureen arose slowly and deliberately—ascended and then remained stationary in the air. Only for a moment, however. Suddenly rising yet higher it was followed by each individual potato, as one by one they rose sedately to the ceiling, leaving but one of their number in the tureen.

Their eyes fairly bulging with surprise, the boys looked at one another, at their host, and then at the tureen with its solitary occupant. But this last potato had suddenly awakened to a sense of its loneliness, and sprang into the air to join its companions. Next the whole party of vegetables slowly crossed the ceiling and disappeared behind the curtain, to be seen no more.

Jim wanted to jump up and see where they had gone, but his host dissuaded him, and, anxious to change the subject, asked what he would have to drink.

“I don’t quite know. What is there?”

A wine bottle that had been quietly standing in front of White lurched suddenly forward, as though in answer to the question. At the same moment the table began to heave, the glasses to rattle, and a little stool, covered with books, toppled over with a prodigious crash.

“Haven’t you some other room we can go to?” stammered Jim.

“Nonsense, it is only some silly trick of Cargill,” said White. Nevertheless all three guests wished themselves well out of it, especially when the dim light suddenly grew dimmer, and the shadows in the room increased. In a few seconds the boys were barely able to see one another.

At this point a mournful moan rang through the room, the curtains were seen to open, and a white figure glided from between them and passed out through the door.

“Let’s get out of here, the place is haunted!” cried White, rising from his chair.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” a ghostly laugh issued from the flowers in the center of the table, and was echoed by the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!”—but the guests could stand it no more, and, scrambling and struggling, they rushed downstairs, with White at their head. Panting and scared they did not stop until the hall was reached, when they stood still, staring at one another in dismay.

“What is the matter?” a sweet voice greeted them. The whole party turned to find Cargill’s sister standing at the dining-room door, looking from one to the other in frank amazement. None of them cared to reply. It is no pleasant thing to tell a pretty girl that you have been afraid.

“The ghost, Dolly,” gasped her brother after a moment, and in a shaky voice he recounted their mysterious adventures.

“So the silly old ghost would not let you have any tea! You must all come in here and enjoy yourselves. I believe there is plenty to eat,” and leading the way Miss Dolly ushered them into the dining-room, where the table was laid with enough good things to cheer a king.

But when she had shown each of the four friends his seat there still remained a vacant place at the head of the table.

“Now, gentlemen,” she said with a naughty smile, “as you are all feeling much braver now, I am sure you will not mind if the Ghost sits down and has something to eat, too.”

The boys looked at one another and then at her, but Miss Dolly, taking no notice of their surprise, quietly seated herself in the vacant chair, passed a plate to White, and said—

“Now, Mr. White, please give the Ghost something to eat.”

·········

After they had all had a good tea, of course Bobbie Cargill and his sister, the Ghost, had to tell the others how it was done. This is the gist of what they said:—

The opening of the door was a very simple matter. A loop was tied in one end of a long piece of strong cord or string, which was carried across to the wall by means of staples, to a concealed corner. The loop was slipped over the door-catch, so that when the other end was pulled this catch was drawn back, whilst the continued pull on the string made the door open. This loop was made of such a size, that as soon as the door had opened to its full extent the string slipped automatically from the catch, and could then be pulled away and out of sight.

In the angle formed by the wainscoting and the floor a piece of simple tubing was placed, one end reaching a room on the ground floor, whilst the other was carried up behind the hat-stand to the height of about five feet. To this end a cardboard funnel was fixed, as in Fig. 1, which, sticking out from the wall, was concealed by a hat or scarf upon the rack. A similar funnel was placed upon the other end, so that the voice of any person speaking through the tube from the room was carried with undiminished force to the hall, thus transmitting the ghostly messages and weird laughter to the guests.

In most hat-stands the pegs are screwed to the back, and taking advantage of this, Bobbie Cargill had unscrewed those pegs most likely to be used by his visitors, putting “fakes” in their place. To all appearances there was no difference between the “fakes” and the proper pegs, but in reality the former were simply gummed against the rack, just strong enough to bear their own weight, but too weak to support a hat.

By the contrivance of a piece of string the fall of the hat-peg was made to work a kind of booby trap, explained by Fig. 2, which shows the hat-stand in section. The false peg, A, is lightly gummed to the stand, B, C, against the hole D, where the real peg is screwed. A bent pin or nail is driven into this end of the peg, as seen in Fig. 3, the end bending downwards. A thin piece of string, F in Fig. 2, is fastened round this pin with a loop, passed through the hole D, and supports at the other end a tin, G, filled with bits of broken glass, marbles, and such like.

Naturally, when White hung his hat on the peg the strain brought the peg away from the stand, in its fall releasing the string and causing the tin to clatter to the floor. So simply was the whole thing arranged, however, that Bobbie Cargill had fixed it up in less time than it has taken to describe.

The absence of lights in the house served a twofold purpose. In the first place, it made the mystery and eeriness more marked, whilst at the same time it concealed several little matters which had to be hidden in order to insure success.

It will now be necessary to glance at the arrangement of the “Den,” shown by Fig. 4. The room was entered by the door A, whilst in the opposite wall is the fireplace B. The window C is hidden by the two heavy curtains at D and E. In the center of the room stood the table F, around which were placed the chairs G, G, G, G. Between the curtains and the window stood the ghost, who after all turned out to be none other than Dolly.

Over the center of the table hung the gas, which, being incandescent, naturally had a burner with a by-pass, and was easily manipulated by means of a piece of string running up the chandelier, carried across the ceiling where it was painted white, and down to Miss Dolly behind the curtains. A weight should be fastened to the switch to make it fall when not pulled by the string, as in Fig. 5.

When White opened the door the young lady lowered the gas by means of her string, and as it was a by-pass the light did not actually go out, although it went sufficiently low to plunge the room in darkness.

It was an easy matter to cause a collision between the visitors. A piece of cord stretched across the room, at L, L, quickly did its work, and was then pulled away behind the curtain.

The “Den” had not been fitted up so neatly for beauty alone, and if they had looked, the guests might have found a couple of strong electric bells concealed beneath the dainty hangings of a picture by the door. Dolly had but to push a button and these two bells were set ringing like an alarm clock, and with a persistence calculated to arouse the Seven Sleepers.

Handley’s experience required even less preparation. Several good percussion caps were placed beneath the carpet and covered with a piece of tin as shown in Fig. 6. In the center of this piece of tin, a hole was pierced with a nail, making ragged edges on the further side. These ragged edges were placed over the powder in the cap, with the result that so soon as Handley trod upon the carpet over the plate the cap was exploded with a loud report.

Meanwhile Bobbie Cargill, arriving under cover of the darkness, added to the uproar by banging a tin can with a heavy stick, and performed this office so lustily that nothing else could be heard.

It is scarcely necessary to remark that sending Jim into the room to turn on the switch was merely a feint to get him out of the way, and to plunge him into the fracas.

A signal from Bobbie was enough to make his sister turn on the light and release the bell pushes, so that when silence was restored, and the darkness dispelled, there was nothing to show how all the commotion had occurred.

By adjusting a screw in the gas-burner Bobbie had previously arranged matters so that even when the gas was turned full on the light was not very strong. Although sufficient to illumine the room, it was feeble enough to hide several tell-tale features.

Besides being an ornament to the table, the large center-piece of flowers served to conceal the end of a piece of tubing which passed beneath Bobbie’s chair to the far side of the curtain. Amongst the frilled mats, too, there were one or two other contrivances to be explained in their turn.

It had been Miss Dolly’s business to make the fake pieces of bread. Taking a piece of bread and breaking it up into very small crumbs, she had then added just enough milk to enable her to mold the crumbs into the shape of a piece of bread again, and had then let the concoction dry, when it had become sufficiently brittle to suit her purpose.

Concealed by the mat in the center was a small indiarubber tube, one end pointed directly to the spot where White had dropped his mass of crumbs, whilst the other ended in a bulb conveniently placed to Bobbie’s hand. He had nothing to do, therefore, but to press the bulb suddenly, and laugh as the wind thus caused sent the crumbs flying.

A Deceitful Member

The tongue is proverbially a deceitful member, and the one lying before Bobbie Cargill was no exception to the rule. Indeed, except for its appearance there was really very little tongue about it. It consisted of a round tin, in which had been placed a small bar of highly magnetized iron. By fixing a slice of real tongue to the top of the tin, and disguising the sides in a similar manner, Bobbie had made such a good resemblance to the real thing, that it would have been hard to discover the deception in the subdued light of the “Den.”

It is very easy to see what happened. So soon as the steel knife approached the dish, the magnet within the faked tongue made the latter leap up to meet the knife and cling to it. Of course, when the fork was plunged through the thin outer coating of meat it struck the tin, making it crack in a strange manner. In Fig. 7 is shown the method of fixing the magnet, the whole faked tongue being shown in section. A number of experiments had to be undertaken before the trick could be made to work satisfactorily, but in the end Bobbie was quite pleased with the result of his labors.