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The Invisible Ray
by
“A day or two after the advertisements appeared a telegram came to the old man from a little town in Indiana. It read simply: ‘Dear Father: Am starting for Brooklyn to-day. Grace.’
“The upshot was that Grace Haswell, or rather Grace Martin, appeared the next day, forgave and was forgiven with much weeping, although the old man still refused resolutely to be reconciled with and receive her husband. Mrs. Martin started in to clean up the old house. A vacuum cleaner sucked a ton or two of dust from it. Everything was changed. Jane grumbled a great deal, but there was no doubt a great improvement. Meals were served regularly. The old man was taken care of as never before. Nothing was too good for him. Everywhere the touch of a woman was evident in the house. The change was complete. It even extended to me. Some friend had told her of an eye and ear specialist, a Dr. Scott, who was engaged. Since then, I understand, a new will has been made, much to the chagrin of the trustees of the projected school. Of course I am cut out of the new will, and that with the knowledge at least of the woman who once appealed to me, but it does not influence me in coming to you.”
“But what has happened since to arouse suspicion?” asked Kennedy, watching the doctor furtively.
“Why, the fact is that, in spite of all this added care, the old man is failing more rapidly than ever. He never goes out except attended and not much even then. The other day I happened to meet Jane on the street. The faithful old soul poured forth a long story about his growing dependence on others and ended by mentioning a curious red discoloration that seems to have broken out over his face and hands. More from the way she said it than from what she said I gained the impression that something was going on which should be looked into.
“Then you perhaps think that Prescott and Mrs. Martin are in some way connected in this case?” I hazarded.
I had scarcely framed the question before he replied in an emphatic negative. “On the contrary, it seems to me that if they know each other at all it is with hostility. With the exception of the first stroke of blindness” here he lowered his voice earnestly “practically every misfortune that has overtaken Mr. Haswell has been since the advent of this new Dr. Scott. Mind, I do not wish even to breathe that Mrs. Martin has done anything except what a daughter should do. I think she has shown herself a model of forgiveness and devotion. Nevertheless the turn of events under the new treatment has been so strange that almost it makes one believe that there might be something occult about it – or wrong with the new doctor.”
“Would it be possible, do you think, for us to see Mr. Haswell?” asked Kennedy, when Dr. Burnham had come to a full stop after pouring forth his suspicions. “I should like to see this Dr. Scott. But first I should like to get into the old house without exciting hostility.”
The doctor was thoughtful. “You’ll have to arrange that yourself,” he answered. “Can’t you think up a scheme? For instance, go to him with a proposal like the old schemes he used to finance. He is very much interested in electrical inventions. He made his money by speculation in telegraphs and telephones in the early days when they were more or less dreams. I should think a wireless system of television might at least interest him and furnish an excuse for getting in, although I am told his daughter discourages all tangible investment in the schemes that used to interest his active mind.”