# Weird Tales/Volume 42/Issue 4/Mr. Hyde—and Seek

From Weird Tales, Volume 42, Issue 4.
| Mr. Hyde— and Seek | By Malcolm M. Ferguson |
A New England farmhouse, could it shelter a poltergeist?
Heading by Matt Fox
"From the way you describe it, doctor, the Orne Place does indeed sound as if it had a poltergeist bouncing around inside it," Thomas Chadwick reflected, turning the nutmeg grounds about in the tumbler in his gaunt, weatherstained hand. "Which is, of course more readily said than settled. For how does one cope with such a critter? Assuming that Eliza Blaine is host—or hostess, rather—for this manifestation, should she and it be treated according to the concepts which the psychologists use when they so gingerly deal with such a phenomenon, or ​in terms of the specialists in psychic affairs?"
"For my part, sir, if I were more deeply involved, I'd try neither, but record any phenomena in simple terms and try to settle in my own mind enough of their nature to warrant an attempt to break them up."
"Good. Good. Now can we start from the beginning, with some idea what the term 'poltergeist' means to you?"
"Yes. Sometimes strange supernormal happenings occur in the vicinity of an adolescent which come to be attributed to the operation of an alien power, directing agent, elemental force, or what you will, upon his victim's personality. The picture is that of a hermit crab in the shell of a periwinkle—only here the same skull quarters are shared simultaneously by an alternately dominant and dormant power and victim. The psychologist is on a spot, since this set-up would be duck soup for a Freudian explanation if it weren't for the recorded hell-raisings outside of the subject's accomplishments—such unaccountable but recurrent pranks as a deluge of stones, strange peltings which explain the German name poltergeist—pelting ghost—and a variety of caprices worthy of a Puck or a Kobold."
I refilled Chadwick's glass and my own, taking the hot water with which to dilute the rum from a kettle in a chimney niche built a century back for this purpose.
"But the hell of it is, the symptoms are external to the subject," Chadwick argued. "And the creditability of such evidence must be tested before we can establish a satisfactory attitude regarding the poltergeist."
I was just agreeing with my elderly friend when a car's headlights swept Chadwick's window.
"That's probably Oliver Orne now," I commented, going to the door.
Orne was a strong, wiry man in his late forties. He greeted Chadwick and explained that he had learned of my whereabouts from the switchboard operator, who habitually rerouted the calls of my practice at my request.
"Mr. Chadwick and I were just talking about your ward's case. He has lived and worked in many parts of the world, and exercised common sense on plenty of problems which would stump a young country doctor like myself."
Chadwick cut my eulogy with an ephithet of mock contempt, and turned inquiringly to Orne.
"Well, what I came for is this. Eliza went up to bed about nine, while my wife and I sat in the kitchen listening to the radio. Just after Eliza went upstairs the radio began to static badly, so I turned it off. I went on reading the newspaper, but noticed that everything was real quiet; the sounds Eliza made getting ready for bed sounding miles away. Suddenly she screamed. Then we heard scraping noises ending in a loud crash. I ran upstairs as fast as I could, and found the kid fainted across her bed, with all the furniture drawn in a heap around her—the dresser, chairs, the heavy linen chest. I don't see how it happened."
We sat quietly for a minute or so, then he turned to me.
"Dr. Huntley, I want you to come stay with us until we can find some way to stop these goings-on."
"Why, I'd be glad to, only I don't know about such things. Doctors don't—Perhaps we can find some psychologist——" I stammered.
"No. I don't want an outsider," Orne replied. "Maybe we can cook up some arrangement for you to stay at the house without arousing any suspicion. That would be best."
After some discussion I agreed to this arrangement, with the excuse that repairs to my house made boarding out easier for me. As I could promise no results, I made my fee low, and only chargeable if something favorable were achieved. So that evening I started a case daybook, carefully avoiding technical terms which would influence diagnosis. I give you herewith an abridged version of this case history, day by day:
DISTURBANCE AT THE ORNE PLACE
June 3, 1949—The homestead is a two-and-a-half story frame building, with an ​ell—a typical New England farmhouse. Built a century and a half ago, it appears to be in sound condition. The hand-hewn timbers, tenon and mortice and trunnel-fitted, the pine panelling throughout downstairs acknowledge this antiquity, and conceivably help provide whatever susceptibility may be needed for psychic manifestations. It is neither extremely isolated or otherwise, though it would appear so to a city-dweller, for seventy-five yards separate it from the nearest neighbors. The location on the edge of Whittaker Intervale, against the wooded slopes of Dawn Mountain would be agreeable, though lonely in winter when the sun goes down early in the afternoon.
Anne Orne, Oliver's wife, is a small, energetic woman who does a great deal of work, though with all the stir of a wren in a dust-bath. Oliver also is a worker, running his own extensive farm and hiring out with his tractor and other farm and lumbering machinery. Eliza Blaine is an attractive, well-bred girl of fifteen, with large brown eyes and brown hair. Judging by her voice and manners she would appear to be of an even, genial disposition, without perceptible neurotic tendencies surely. She had been adopted the summer before, following the death of her father, a distant relative of Mrs. Orne. Before coming to Whittaker Intervale she had lived in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where her father had given her a number of benefits in education and upbringing.
The first occurrence prior to my arrival at the Orne Place, was in April. Eliza had just bidden her foster parents good night at the door leading from the kitchen which shuts off the back stairs and prevents drafts from dispelling the heat in winter. Oliver saw the door shut, and heard the girl's footsteps ascending the stairs. Then, half a beat behind them another footstep started up. Eliza was nearly at the top of the stairs before Oliver gathered his wits and opened the door. She was alone there, turning to look down at him beneath the bare light bulb. Her face wore a strange, devilish smile, compounded of mockery, yet fearfully, terribly alien.
Oliver stood dumbfounded, turning over in his mind whether Eliza had somehow prankishly skipped upstairs, but was unable to fit this deviltry with her character. So he ended up, staring gape-jawed until she turned, snapping off the light and proceeding in the dark to the next light switch just inside her room. When Oliver turned back into the kitchen, his wife looked up, nonplussed, from her darning. Their discussion made no headway with the matter, partly perhaps since Oliver somehow omitted telling his wife of Eliza's strange expression. They concluded that this might have been a freak of sound involving the wood frame of the old house, and called to mind reports of similar happenings.
In the latter part of May on a rainy afternoon, the minister, Mr. Brainerd, came to call. Mrs. Orne was in the kitchen frying doughnuts, while Eliza was washing clothes, using set-tubs and a washing machine in the ell, also connected to the kitchen by a door. Mrs. Orne naturally exclaimed regarding the condition of the house, her hair and dress while Mr. Brainerd climbed from his car. Nevertheless, after shedding these fluttering preliminaries of a parishional call, she had settled Mr. Brainerd, a young, easygoing fellow, over coffee, fresh doughnuts and discreet gossip. He sat facing the open ell door, where Eliza was continuing her work. His coffee cup was halfway to his lips, which were pursed with intent to retract if the liquid proved too hot, when a cake of soap floated through the air coming from the ell and swinging in a near ninety degree arc, to settle in the soap dish by the kitchen sink. That was one cup of coffee Mr. Brainerd did not drink.
Several minutes later, when Mr. Brainerd and Anne Orne looked into the ell they found Eliza caught by nervous laughter, badly convulsed, apparently from the effort of her performance. Indeed the two mystified witnesses had to put her on the front room couch and minister to her with damp cloths, smelling salts, or whatever they thought best. There was no trace of the diabolical about her expression then. On ​recovering she claimed she knew nothing of the episode, being quite unable to explain her attack of hysteria.
With this episode the story took form and spread through the community. I was called in, though my examination brought nothing positive to light. For the record, the story that the doughnuts in the bowl on the kitchen table flew onto the coat hangers against the kitchen wall is the invention and whole cloth embroidery of some absent party—a village loafer, probably,—for both Mr. Brainerd and Anne Orne deny any such occurrence.
June 6, 1949—In return for a couple of weeks with a limited practice, I had to put in more time at the hospital. Evenings were more apt to be free, and so far I have managed to be on hand most evenings, though nothing has yet happened during my stay. This evening the four of us were seated at the kitchen table reading—or in Eliza's case, writing a letter to a Portsmouth chum.
A mouse had been scampering in the walls, though I had not been particularly conscious of it until I happened to notice Eliza reflecting a moment over her letter. I could almost see her attention caught by the creature's slight scuttlings and squeakings. Perhaps a sudden muffling of the atmosphere was responsible, as if a focus of attention of some sort were being established. Then all at once Eliza's face changed, taking on the wholly tense preoccupied expression of a cat about to spring. A full, taut minute thus, and then she gave a slight forward thrust, just the shadow of a lunge I would call it. From the wall a shrill, agonized mouse-cry piped. The Ornes looked up in surprise at the blank wall, and its hidden, strangely-racked victim. Neither Eliza nor I turned a heeding head; I of course being concerned with her reaction. While she—well, I think I must yield my medical judgment and say she acted as one possessed, as if the "person within her personality" were supplanted, her mind being temporarily tenanted by a diabolical force. No, this poltergeist is no mere prankster's connivance.
A moment following the mouse's last cry, soon reached in rapid diminuendo, Eliza thrust the very tip of her tongue briefly between her teeth, and in doing so seemed to be released to herself and regain her own personality. Seeing the three of us watching her (rather than the blank wall behind which was a still mouse) she shook her head slightly.
"Gosh, I must nave dozed off. I feel awfully tired. I didn't snore, did I?"
I assured her that she hadn't, that we were merely looking up because we thought we had heard a mouse in the wall.
"Yes, I guess I must have heard him scampering around. Funny, you hear a noise like that and hardly realize it."
Shortly after that she retired for the night
June 7, 1949—I've been thinking a good deal today about the human brain as an organ. Now the heart is fairly plainly a pump—one can comprehend its function upon inspecting it, as in dissection. And so on with all the other organs, their functions can be readily comprehended upon examination. But the mass of gray matter which comprises the brain cannot be thus comprehended as the source of thought process. One cannot see where or how this viscera-like mass permits one to pilot an airplane and carry on a conversation at the same time, or to cope with a novel problem such as the present one of conjecture concerning poltergeists. Since we cannot yet look into the brain and get very far by induction, all we know about it is what we feel and experience ourselves, or what we observe in others. Therefore, I conclude, if phenomenal accomplishments are directed by the brain, of which the brain's possessor is wholly unaware, the fact that these functions were directed by the brain would defy detection.
Thus, for example, the recent experiments at Duke University with cards, regarding "mental telegraphy," or the age-old business of making a divining rod indicate the subterrene presence of water—these in the human brain—or the homing instinct in the pigeon's brain, suggest that certain functions of the brain may exceed anything we have yet ascertained. ​Putting it another way, if we say, "I think, therefore I am," the "I am" cannot directly challenge or enlarge upon the "I think." And if an unaccounted relationship between forces of the mind and external objects, and conjecturably forces in the environment exists, there's simply no telling of it.
KNOWLEDGE of YOUR INNER POWERS GIVES YOU FREEDOM :
| ► AWAKEN YOUR HIDDEN POWERS ◀ |||
| Learn Estoric Secrets of Life |||
| IA23. | THREE AMAZING BOOKLETS by M. Doreal | THREE AMAZING BOOKLETS by M. Doreal |
| | 1. Mysteries of Mount Shasta (paper cover) |
| Only 35¢ |
| | 2. Man's Higher Self (paper cover) | Only 35¢ |
| | 3. Secret Teachings of Jesus (paper cover) | Only 35¢ |
| IA30. | EVOLUTION OF MAN'S MIND by Br. Arthur Beals | EVOLUTION OF MAN'S MIND by Br. Arthur Beals |
| A stimulating theosophical interpretation of science, rosicrucian lore, ancient wisdom and teachings. 96 pages. (cloth-bound) Price 98¢ |||
| IA16. | YOU CAN LEARN ALL THE ANSWERS (Anonymous) | YOU CAN LEARN ALL THE ANSWERS (Anonymous) |
| "if you should deliberately follow the call of this book—then you would enter upon a truly new life—" (Pub. foreward) Suede |||
| | | Only $1.00 |
| THREE FAMOUS BOOKS! |||
| IAI2. | THE CONQUEST OF FEAR by Basil King | THE CONQUEST OF FEAR by Basil King |
| IA14. | SOMETHING TO LIVE BY by Dorathea Kepplin | SOMETHING TO LIVE BY by Dorathea Kepplin |
| IAI5. | IN HIS STEPS by Charles M. Sheldon | IN HIS STEPS by Charles M. Sheldon |
| | (Forma Edition) | Each Now 35¢ |
| IA02. | THAT ANCIENT WAY by Kate M. Francis | THAT ANCIENT WAY by Kate M. Francis |
| A guiding hand along the TRU WAY of Life. Here are many great truths that open New Vistas along the Ancient Way! |||
| | (cloth) | Only 90¢ |
| IA40. | (1) DOES CHANCE OR JUSTICE RULE OUR LIVES | (1) DOES CHANCE OR JUSTICE RULE OUR LIVES |
| | by Nilea Anneus 97 pages. (paper bound) | Price 25¢ |
| IA22. | (2) THE STORY OF JESUS by de Purucker | (2) THE STORY OF JESUS by de Purucker |
| | 64 pages (paper) | Price 25¢ |
| IA21. | (3) THE MASTERS OF THE PATH OF OCCULTISM | (3) THE MASTERS OF THE PATH OF OCCULTISM |
| | by de Purucker 95 pages. | Price 25¢ |
| IA20. | THE IMPERSONAL LIFE by Joseph S. Benker | THE IMPERSONAL LIFE by Joseph S. Benker |
| Hear and recognise the spirit within. The "I Am" speaks from this book so intimately "if you are ready" it will be a true guide of strength and wisdom. Over 100,000 sold: | Hear and recognise the spirit within. The "I Am" speaks from this book so intimately "if you are ready" it will be a true guide of strength and wisdom. Over 100,000 sold: | Price $1.00 |
| READERS SERVICE BOOK CLUB. Dept. W-31 119 E. San Fernando St., San Jose 32, Calif. Please rush me book number(s) NAME ADDRESS CITY STATE |||
June 11, 1949 — Whatever it is, it's getting stronger, growing like a malignant tumor. Each successful exercise of dominance over Eliza's mind increases the power of the next manifestation, which may be less capricious, and not content with a mouse for a victim. That Eliza is possessed by a malevolent entity or grotesque preternatural schism of split personality—or whatever in hell it can be called, for it is surely spawned of hell,—is apparent to me, whether my terms fit the textbooks or not.
Eliza and I started the evening with a game of checkers. This would prove diverting while keeping me posted on her mental state. She sat in the chair Rev. Brainerd had occupied, facing the ell, the kitchen sink (this is from the chair occupant's left to right) a window into the area of front yard which might be called the ell courtyard. We played across a corner of the full-sized table in order to reach the board readily. Her game was undistinguished, and free from devious tricks or wild gambles. My own is orthodox, too; I'm merely noting the less artful nature of this girl of half my age.
Her chance came in the third game to force me to sacrifice—if she could be reasonably sure of her calculations. As she concentrated on the alternative moves I watched her, though in a moment she screened her brow with her hand, and I could no longer see her face.
Suddenly the air became heavy, a stillness that almost seemed sound ensued, as if silent black wings beat down upon the air. The telephone went "ting"—not ringing, but ticking as these country lines do in a thunderstorm. I looked up at the windows, wondering if a storm were coming, but could see only darkness. Then I saw a face pressed against the ell courtyard ​window, a white face, wide-eyed in terror. It was the face of Eliza Blaine! Breaking my gaze from this onlooker's, I turned in amazement to the girl across the checkerboard. Her face was utterly alien, an abominable satyr's mask, looking in cool, sardonic amusement at its counterpart's features pressed so fearfully against the windowpane.
* DO YOU SUFFER
* FROM
* RHEUMATISM?
* ARTHRITIS? NEURITIS? SCIATICA?
* send for FREE BOOK
* describing the proven, specialized treatment that has been amazingly successful in combatting rheumatism, arthritis and similar painful disorders. This illustrated book "RHEUMATISM" fully explains causes and effects . . . tells you WHY drugs and medicines afford but temporary relief. Delay may be dangerous.
* LEARN ABOUT SPECIALIZED TREATMENT
* Send for FREE Book today — a postcard will do. No obligation, Write today.
* BALL CLINIC, Dept 66Excelsior Springs, Mo.
* DRUNK?
* rtat "Tour (MUXxl ia vonictlul! An .
* no wabtiPra
* lona up «swl«
* SENDNO MONEY!"
* USe IS BAYS AT OUft RISK— **f CSFACTION UUAftArtTUtt
* .??"ASTT0DAY!
* UNITED MEDICAL RESEARCH
* Bt» m. Dtft; U-7. MMKEJPOUJ t, MINN.
* RUPTURED?
* Get Relief This Proven Way
* Why try to worry along with trousers that gouge your flesh—press heavily on hips and spine—enlarge opening—fail to hold rupture? You need the Cluthe. No leg-straps or cutting belts. Automatic adjustable pad holds at real opening—follows every body movement with instant increased support in case of strain. Cannot slip whether at work or play. Light. Waterproof, can be worn in bath. Send for amazing FREE book, "Advice to Ruptured," and details of liberal truthful 60-day trial offer. Also endorsements from grateful users in your neighborhood. Write:
* Cluthe Sons, Dept. 39, Bloomfield, New Jersey
* INVENTORS
* If you believe that you have an invention, you should find out how to protect it. We are registered Patent Attorneys. Send for copy of our Patent Booklet "How to Protect Your Invention," and an "Invention Record" form. No obligation. They are yours for the asking.
* McMORROW, BERMAN & DAVIDSON Registered Patent Attorneys
* 129-B Victor BuildingWashington 1, D. C.
I think that I did the right thing at last. I ran to the outer ell door and threw it open upon the courtyard. Switching on the outdoor light, I saw the courtyard was empty and the impress of no footprints were in the garden plot under the window. I turned back at once to find Oliver Orne just catching the fainting Eliza.
I think I did right, I say, because if I had turned and slapped the face or shaken the shoulders of the creature across the checkerboard from me, there'd be danger of psychic trauma for Eliza, with negative results as far as the poltergeist went.
June 12, 1949—This morning I visited Chadwick, telling him what appears here. His advice to me was:
"Your best bet is to find some action which will fit all the various theories about poltergeists, since you are concerned with sure counteraction rather than theorizing. You must apply this action when the poltergeist is dominant, and in such a way that Eliza is done neither bodily nor mental harm. You must surprise the poltergeist, confronting him as strongly as possible at the moment of his greatest aggression. And you must do so with something as opposite in all respects as possible."
I agreed and we concocted, rejected and sorted over a number of possible plans. Finally we hit upon two or three schemes which seem more substantial, if they can be worked out.
I do not propose to report on them now, as they may never be tested. Since one of them involved the services of a skilled dental technician friend, I spent the rest of the day with him in the hospital laboratory.
June 15, 1949—Fortunately no ​manifestations took place while I was completing a variety of preparations, to cover as many contingencies as I could. Today I brought back the acrylic plastic candlestick which my dental technician had produced (using his false teeth manufacture thus divertedly). It was a curious piece, anything but artistic, with shapeless, topheavy bulges. Remarking upon its amateurish appearance and saying that I could do better with more practice, I put the object on the mantel with my tobacco jar and smoking apparatus. Since it seemed highly improbable that the poltergeist would appear in the presence of any object which it knew to be inimical, I hoped that this candlestick would not appear so.
It had been a hot day, with thunder-showers likely to break the oppressively muggy air. Shortly after supper I was standing up, filling my pipe, as is my custom. I was reaching for a wooden match from the wall receptacle and idly looking into the mirror in front of me. My gaze rested on the image of Eliza, or what displaced it. The face was turned as she talked to Mrs. Orne. But the mirror reflected the abhorrent satyr's head, self-confident with the myriad abominations of hell itself.
As I watched, Eliza—or this horror—saw me staring at the mirror, and broke into a Sardonian smile. I turned from the mirror to Eliza. Her features were nearly normal, though the alterations were even now taking place, as if challenging me for my looking-glass view.
OUTDOOR WORK :
| Study for game warden, park, fish, patrol, and wildlife conservation service exams. Details free. Write ||
| DELMAR INSTITUTE | C-13, Denver, Colo. |
Want GOOD LUCK?
Love, wealth, happiness may be yours. Carry the alleged Lucky Talisman of the Orient. Try this amazing charm for one week. Satisfaction guaranteed or money refunded. Send only $1.00 Today.
DEL MONTE. 1919 Ditmors Blvd. Suite 7A, Long Island City 5, New York :
* ☛PRICE ERROR☚
* THE WORLD BELOW ... S. Fowler Wright
* Advertised in this magazine @ $1.95
* Correct price of this title is $3.50
* LEE BLATT • 5131 Walnut St. • Phila. SO. Pa.
CASH FOR WEIRD TALES :
| I will buy any issues of WEIRD TALES issued before 1932. I also wont to buy HORROR STORIES, STRANGE TALES, TERROR TALES, and any collections of Fantastic Magazines and Books. Describe condition and quote prices wanted. ||
| CLAUDE HELD ||
| DODGE STREET | BUFFALO 8, N. Y. |
| | FANTASY FAN'S BOOK CLUB | FANTASY FAN'S BOOK CLUB | |
| Two MORE free books than any other club offers you. Write for details and free catalog of weird and science-fiction books and back-dated magazines. |||||
| Werewolf Bookshop |||||
| 1508-H Riverside Drive | 1508-H Riverside Drive | Verona, Pennsylvania | Verona, Pennsylvania |
* THE KELLER ANTHOLOGY — $3.50
* • LIFE EVERLASTING •
* and ten other tales of
* Science, Fantasy, and Horror
* By DAVID H. KELLER, M.D.
* $3.50 postpaid from Fantasy-News, Book Dept.,
* Box 4. Stein way, Long Island City, N. Y.
* WEIRD TALES
* SCIENCE-FICTION — FANTASY
* Brand new. cloth-bound, library-size sample book. $3.00. Illustrated catalogues, 10¢ (refunded).
* HOUSE OF STONE
* LUNENBURG 24MASSACHUSETTS
I was not idle either, for the time had come. And yet my mind continued turning over the matter of mirrors, the lore of the speculum of Mage Merlin, the Devil's Looking Glass of Dr. Lee, of katoptromancy and vampirism. I had picked up the candlestick and advanced slowly, with a show of irresolution, to the stove. Doctors and acrobats, bull-fighters and actors must have a sense of timing; it is often extremely important. Here the poltergeist must think me uncertain, or bent upon hurting Eliza—at which misdirected aim he could laugh, exult and grow stronger. So I advanced to the stove as the ​transformation, unabated, reached its completion.
High School Course :
| at Home | Many Finish in 2 Years}} |
| Go as rapidly as you rtime and abilities permit. Course equivalent to resident school work—prepares for college entrance exams. Standard H. S. texts supplies. Diploma. Credit for H. S. subjects already completed. ||
| American School, Dept. H-439, Drrxnl atSBtlt, Chicago 37 ||
Don't Neglect Piles
and Colon Troubles
FREE BOOK—Explains Dangers of Associated Ailments
Avoid Dangers of Delay
Neglected piles, fistula and colon troubles often spread infection. Learn about rheumatic and other associated chronic conditions. Write today for 161 page FREE BOOK,
McCleary Clinic & Hospital, 421 Elms Blvd., Excelsior Springs. Mo. :
RUPTURE!
An amazing Air-Cushion Invention allows body freedom at work or play. Light, neat, cool, sanitary. Durable, cheap. Day and protection helps Nature support weak muscles gently but surely. No risk. Sent on Trial! Write NOW for free Booklet and Proof of Results. All correspondance confidential.
Brooks Company, 153H State St., Marshall, Mich. :
OWN A PIECE OF
THE GOOD EARTH
AT A PRICE YOU CAN AFFORD!
California and Oregon ranch, timber, hunting and fishing lands at $1.25 to $5 acre full price. Write today (enclose 10c coin) for circulars, photos, outline maps,
PACIFIC LANDS
P. O. Box 23S0-JH
Hollywood 23California :
Suffer Varicose LEG SORES?
If you suffer paln and misery of Varicose Ulcers r Open Leg Sores, send away at once for FREE Booklet—THE LIEPE METHODS FOR HOME USE." Tells all about this 40-year-old method, praised and endorsed by thousands. Liepe Methods, Dept. 18-D 3250 M. Grean Bay Ave., Millwaukee, Wisconsin. :
* TOMBSTONES!
* $9.95 up EASY TermsDIRECT TO YOU
* Genuine Beautiful Rochdale Monuments, Markers. Satisfaction or MONEY BACK. Freight post. Write for our FREE Catalog and compare prices.
* ROCKDALE MONUMENT CO
* Dept. 737JOLIET, ILLINOIS |
Mr. and Mrs. Orne sat still, as I lifted the lid of the hot kettle. I had to trust them to heed my injunction not to stir.
Then the lights went out. The electricity in this part of the country sometimes does cut out when there are thunderstorms. But this was too opportune to be chance.
From Eliza's figure sprouted mushroom blobs of static light like St. Elmo's Fires, shining yet not igniting, forming at the hem of her skirt, her waist, the nape of her neck, swamp fire of the fiend's finding. With the room thus weirdly illumined, the poltergeist held both hands aloft with palms taut and fingers radiating, outstretched to the area above my head. Shrilly Eliza's strained vocal cords emitted the fiend's curses and evocations.
All around me stones fell, yet I was unhurt. I drew from the kettle the acrylic plastic figure. The action of the boiling water had fulfilled our anticipations by invoking the peculiar properties of the candlestick's substances, reshaping it into the form of a crucifix.
As I walked forward with the talisman upraised, the demoniac creature emitted a hell-rending cry as if a bottomless pit gaped beneath him. His hands lowered spasmodically to clutch idiotically about his face. His features withered and writhed, revealed as the electricity came on again when, presumably, the fiend's will power dissolved its damning block. In a moment the struggle was over. Eliza, released, collapsed into her chair, and but for my free hand would have fallen to the floor.
June 15, 1949—Chadwick explains the matter by calling the poltergeist a virulent mass and the crucifix an all-healing antibiotic which is an interesting way of putting it. Since the crucifix was dormant in the plastic (the acrylic being peculiar in that once fixed—in the form of a crucifix—it could be provisionally altered to the rough shape of a candlestick, until its "memory" was stirred by the boiling water, when it reverted to its fixed shape it could form a perfect opposite to the poltergeist.
Please mention Newsstand Fiction Unit when answering advertisement
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was legally published within the United States (or the United Nations Headquarters in New York subject to Section 7 of the United States Headquarters Agreement) before 1964, and copyright was not renewed.
* For Class A renewal records (books only) published between 1923 and 1963, check the Stanford University Copyright Renewal Database.
* For other renewal records of publications between 1922–1950, see the University of Pennsylvania copyright records.
* For all records since 1978, search the U.S. Copyright Office records.
Works published in 1950 could have had their copyright renewed in 1977 or 1978, i.e. between January 1st of the 27th year after publication or registration and December 31st of the 28th year. As this work's copyright was not renewed, it entered the public domain on January 1st, 1979.
The longest-living author of this work died in 2011, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 12 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
It is imperative that contributors ascertain that there is no evidence of a copyright renewal before using this license. Failure to do so will result in the deletion of the work as a copyright violation.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse