ant. I spoke to him, but he gazed past me, apparently not hearing.
Doctor Zoberg saw my perplexed frown, and he turned back toward the constable. Snapping long fingers in front of the great hooked nose, he whistled shrilly. O'Bryant started, grunted, then glared around as though he had been suddenly and rudely awakened.
"What's up?" he growled menacingly, and his sound hand moved swiftly to a holster at his side. Then his eyes found me, and with an oath he drew his revolver.
"Easy, Constable! Easy does it," soothed Judge Pursuivant, his own great hand clutching O'Bryant's wrist. "You've forgotten that I showed how Mr. Wills must be innocent."
"I've forgotten what we're here for at all," snapped O'Bryant, gazing around the clearing. "Hey, have I been drunk or something? I said that I'd never"
"I'll explain," offered Zoberg. "The judge met me in town, and we came together to see you. Remember? You said you would like to avenge your brother's death, and came with us. Then, when you balked at the very edge of this Devil's Croft, I took the liberty of hypnotizing you."
"Huh? How did you do that?" growled the officer.
"With a look, a word, a motion of the hand," said Zoberg, his eyes twinkling. "Then you ceased all objections and came in with us."
Pursuivant clapped O'Bryant on the unbounded shoulder. "Sit down," he invited, motioning toward the roots of the tree.
The five of us gathered around the fire, like picknickers instead of allies against a supernormal monster. There, at Susan's insistence, I told of what had happened since Judge Pursuivant had left us. All listened with rapt attention, the constable grunting occasionally, the judge clicking his tongue, and Doctor Zoberg in absolute silence.
It was Zoberg who made the first comment after I had finished. "This explains many things," he said.
"It don't explain a doggone thing," grumbled O'Bryant.
Zoberg smiled at him, then turned to Judge Pursuivant. "Your ectoplasmic theory of lycanthropy—such as you have explained it to me—is most interesting and, I think, valid. May I advance it a trifle?"
"In what way?" asked the judge.
"Ectoplasm, as you see it, forms the werewolf by building upon the medium's body. But is not ectoplasm more apt, according to the observations of many people, to draw completely away and form a separate and complete thing of itself? The thing may be beastly, as you suggest. Algernon Blackwood, the English writer of psychic stories, almost hits upon it in one of his 'John Silence' tales. He described an astral personality taking form and threatening harm while its physical body slept."
"I know the story you mean," agreed Judge Pursuivant. "The Camp of the Dog, I think it's called."
"Very well, then. Perhaps, while Miss Susan's body lay in a trance, securely handcuffed between Wills and myself"
"Oh!" wailed Susan. "Then it was I, after all."
"It couldn't have been you," I told her at once.
"But it was! And, while I was at the judge's home with you, part of me met the constable's brother in this wood." She stared wildly around her.
"It might as well have been part of me" I argued, and O'Bryant glared at me as if in sudden support of that likelihood. But Susan shook her head.
