“I’ve something in your line here,” I observed, as he came in.
“In my line? How so? I’m not pipe mad.”
“No; but you’re ghost mad. And this is a haunted pipe.”
“A haunted pipe! I think you’re rather more mad about ghosts, my dear Pugh, than I am.”
Then I told him all about it. He was deeply interested, especially when I told him that the pipe was drugged. But when I repeated Tress’s words about its being haunted, and mentioned my own delusion about the creature moving, he took a more serious view of the case than I had expected he would do.
“I propose that we act on Tress’s suggestion, and go and make inquiries of him.”
“But you don’t really think that there is anything in it?”
“On these subjects I never allow myself to think at all. There are Tress’s words, and there is your story. It is agreed on all hands that the pipe has peculiar properties. It seems to me that there is a sufficient case here to merit inquiry.”
He persuaded me. I went with him. The pipe, in the sandalwood box, went too. Tress received us with a grin—a grin which was accentuated when I placed the sandalwood box on the table.
“You understand,” he said, “that a gift is a gift. On no terms will I consent to receive that pipe back in my possession.”
I was rather nettled by his tone.
“You need be under no alarm. I have no intention of suggesting anything of the kind.”
“Our business here,” began Brasher—I must own that his manner is a little ponderous—“is of a scientific, I may say also, and at the same time, of a judicial nature. Our object is the Pursuit of Truth and the Advancement of Inquiry.”
“Have you been trying another smoke?” inquired Tress, nodding his head toward me.
Before I had time to answer, Brasher went droning on:
“Our friend here tells me that you say this pipe is haunted.”
“I say it is haunted because it is haunted.”
I looked at Tress. I half suspected that he was poking fun at us. But he appeared to be serious enough.
“In these matters,” remarked Brasher, as though he were giving utterance to a new and important truth, “there is a scientific and nonscientific method of inquiry. The scientific method is to begin at the beginning. May I ask how this pipe came into your possession?”
Tress paused before he answered.
“You may ask.” He paused again. “Oh, you certainly may ask. But it doesn’t follow that I shall tell you.”
“Surely your object, like ours, can be but the Spreading About of the Truth?”
“I don’t see it at all. It is possible to imagine a case in which the spreading about of the truth might make me look a little awkward.”
“Indeed!” Brasher pursed up his lips. “Your words would almost lead one to suppose that there was something about your method of acquiring the pipe which you have good and weighty reasons for concealing.”