Other Worlds Read Online Free PDF

morning. Reverend Fort had preached at the Baptist church, Reverend Gunn at the Methodist. The services both began at the traditional hour of eleven a.m., and the churches were some thirteen miles apart.
    As the assembled company sat relaxing after the evening meal, the Spirit made its presence known and began questioning Reverend Gunn about certain fine points of doctrine in his sermon.
    "How do you know what I preached about?" the astonished pastor inquired.
    "I was there and heard you," was the reply The voice then repeated the text, the sermon, and the closing prayer, in an excellent imitation of the preacher's very tones.
    "Well," said one of the visitors jokingly, "Brother Fort has the advantage this time. The witch cannot criticize his sermon, since it was listening to Brother Gunn."
    "Oh yes I can," said the Spirit.
    "How do you know?'
    "I was present and heard him." Whereupon followed an exact repetition of the Baptist ministers sermon, in his own voice.
    None of the listeners ever forgot this tour de force. The visiting Englishman was treated to additional demonstrations of the Spirit's powers. One evening it claimed to have visited his far-off home and conversed with his family. It repeated the conversation, imitating the voices of the gentleman's mother and brother. Though the Spirit only wanted to assure the English family that their absent loved one was well and carry back any messages they might care to send, its visit was not a success. The gentleman's mother dismissed it with the remark that she had heard and seen enough, adding, "We do not want any more visits like that here."
    Well, we can hardly blame her.
    Not all the visitors came to be entertained. Some had hopes of solving the mystery. A certain Jack Busby, known as the Witch Killer, offered to destroy the Spirit with charmed silver bullets, a well-known weapon for dealing with evil spirits. The Bells welcomed him courteously, though I suspect that confirmed rationalist John Bell had little faith in Busby's boasts.
    At first, however, the Witch Killer's presence seemed to intimidate the Spirit. Nothing was heard from it for a week. Busby claimed all the credit and prepared to leave, saying he had other business to attend to. "But," he added magnanimously, "I will return if the Witch comes back."
    When he mounted his horse the animal rolled its eyes and refused to budge. Busby urged it on with kicks and cries, but to no avail. All at once the animal began to rear.
    "I can make that horse go, old quack Busby," shouted the voice of the Spirit. "Let me get on behind."
    The horse galloped off at full speed, while Busby desperately clutched his hat and fought to stay on. Needless to say, he did not return.
    Another visitor, who called himself a "professional detective," had a different approach. The Bells had never seen or heard of this Mr. Williams until the day he walked into the house and offered his services, but they received him as they received everyone, with courtesy and open minds.
    Williams was a portly, handsome man and a foppish dresser, but his manners were not so attractive as his appearance. After several days, during which time the Spirit was modestly silent, he informed another visitor that he had solved the mystery. As he had suspected, there was nothing supernatural about the case. The Bells were playing the tricks themselves, wanting a sensation—though why they should want something that deprived them of rest, privacy, and peace of mind he did not explain.
    When Mr. Bell learned of the detective's theory, his indignation flared. He felt his hospitality had been violated and expressed his intention of evicting the slanderer.
    "Never mind, Old Jack," said the Spirit. "I will take care of it."
    So Mr. Bell said nothing. It was getting late, and he hated to throw a guest out into the dark with no other lodging close at hand. Besides, by that time he was well acquainted with the Spirit's methods, and he would not have been human if he had not