them on my memory, every detail of them.  They were not brand new, for, of course, anybody would choose an easy old pair for that walk.  So there were scratches, bumps, and worn, rubbed places, that, with their general make-up, rendered them unmistakable to yours truly!  Then I was ready.  The earnest but easily-gulled committee carefully adjusted their useless pads of cotton and their thick bandage over my eyes, and I was led forth to the fray.

“Remember, I asked Mr. Mortimer not only to think of the hidden penknife, and will me toward it, but also to look toward it himself.  Now, to look toward any object, a man usually turns his whole body in that direction.  So, groping about, clumsily, I managed to get sight of the toes of those well-remembered boots.  Seeing which way they were pointed was all the information I needed just then.  So, with all sorts of hesitating movements and false starts, I finally trotted off in the direction he had faced.  The rest is easy.  Of course, coming to a corner, I was absolutely in the dark as to whether I was to turn or to keep straight ahead.  This necessitated my turning back to Mr. Mortimer to catch a glimpse of which way his feet were pointing.  I covered this by speaking to him, begging him to will me aright —­to will me more earnestly—­or some such bunk.  I could invent many reasons for turning round; pretend I had lost my feeling of ‘guidance,’ or pretend I heard a sudden noise, as of danger, or even pretend I felt I was going wrong.  Well, I got a peek at those feet as often as was necessary, and the rest was just play-acting to mislead the people’s minds.  Of course, when I stumbled over a stone or nearly fell into a coal hole or grating, it was all pretense.  I saw the pavements as well as anybody, and my effort was to seem unaware of what was coming.  Had I carefully avoided obstacles, they would know I could see.”

“And when you reached that vacant lot?” prompted Eunice.

“I saw friend Mortimer’s feet were pointing toward the center of the lot, and not in the direction of either street.  So I turned in, and when I got where I could see the burned-down house, I guessed that was the hiding-place.  So I circled around it, urging my ‘guide’ to look toward the place, and then noting his feet.  I had to do a bit of scratching about; but remember, I could see perfectly, and I felt sure the knife was in the charred and blackened rubbish, so I just hunted till I found it.  That’s all.”

“Well, it does sound simple and easy as you tell it, but, believe me, Hanlon, I appreciate the cleverness of the thing and the real work you went through in preparation for it all,” Hendricks said, heartily, and the other men added words of admiration and approval.

But Miss Ames was distinctly displeased.

“I wouldn’t mind, if you’d advertised it as a trick,” she said, in an injured tone, “as, say, the conjurors do such tricks, but everybody knows they’re fooling their audience.  It is expected.”