any mental phenomena would be physical and the proper study of a materialistic investigator and not of a ghost-hunter.
We devoted considerable time to telepathic experiments along the lines followed by the Society for Psychical Research, but with results not very startling, and to us quite inconclusive. So we began our work along entirely different lines. "Thoughts are things" was our argument, physical in all respects, just as speech or any other bodily attribute; so why may they not be made to react with an audible sound, like the voice over the telephone? Our efforts to produce instruments for this purpose, which would record our thoughts in audible sound, met with failure after failure, making us wonder if after all we were wrong and should never succeed. But after years of discouragement we finally met with partial success. It was then only a question of a little more time.
In the end we produced two finished instruments, very small, which fitted into the ear of the user and were almost invisible. With one of these little receivers fitted into the ear of each, Professor Bohmer and I could converse readily without a word being uttered. These "mentaphones," as we called them, would not record every conscious thought, but when an effort was made to reach the understanding of the recipient, as in telepathic experiments, the result was everything that could be desired. In addressing me, Professor Bohmer would merely concentrate and speak mentally instead of by word of mouth. Clear as a bell and just as a spoken voice his thought would sound in my ear. My reply, of course, was given in the same manner.
For several years after this all our attention was given to experimental surgery.
One cold November night we sat in our library before the fire, discussing our day's work.
"Jerbot," said Professor Bohmer, "I do not know whether your conclusions are similar to mine or not, but observation leads me to believe that the brain and in fact all parts of the body continue to function after death, imperceptibly as regards the purely bodily organs; but I believe the brain functions just as in life, at least for a time."
"Yes," I answered, "that possibility has occurred to me. In fact I have given it considerable thought."
We both then dropped into silence, each occupied with his own thoughts. The clock striking midnight roused me with a start to find Professor Bohmer gazing intently in my direction.
"Jerbot," he said sharply, "one of us shall prove it."
"Prove what?" I returned, my thoughts still wandering.
"Why, that the brain functions after death, the possibility of which we were just now discussing."
"Oh, that," I replied; "we shall both either prove it or disprove it."
"No! Only one of us! I want to exact a promise of you, and I shall make you the same one in return."
"What is the promise?"
"It is this, Jerbot: that if I should die before you, you will place one of our little mentaphones, as we call them, in my ear; that you will equip yourself with the other one, come to my grave within twelve hours after burial and attempt to open communication with me. Do you promise?"
"But why wait until after burial, Bohmer? Why not at once upon death being ascertained?"
"No, no! Wait! Do just as I tell you. Come within twelve hours after the grave is closed. I know best. You shall see. Do you promise?"
"Yes, I promise, but do not talk of death, Bohmer: you and I have years
