"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 016 - The Ghost Makers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"That is what he sayтАФthe same word JohnтАФJonathan, he say. There is one more word. It start like the
first. Little Flower cannot say. She try to spell again: C-O-P -"
The piping voice broke and seemed confused. It became babbling and incoherent; then the spelling
recommenced, laboriously, letter by letter:

"C-O-P-P -"

"Copper!" gasped the eager woman. "Coronado Copper. Is that what he told you, Little Flower?"

"That is what he say. What you say. The same funny big words, that Little Flower find too big to say.
Jon-a-thanтАФhe say you must buy it quick. It must be quickтАФbefore it come too late -"

"Ask him how much to buy, Little Flower!" exclaimed the woman breathlessly. "How much!"

"I talk to him. Wait. He has hear. Through the ear of Little Flower, he has hear. I tell what he say."

The piping voice became still. There was a long, breathless pause. Then an incoherent jabber of the shrill
voice, and words that were meaningless. Finally, the tones of Little Flower:

"He is say oneтАФone somethingтАФoneтАФsome-thingтАФsome funny number, he say -"

AS the voice dwindled, and the breathlessness increased, a new sound pervaded the seance room. It
seemed to begin from nowhere, and grow to a terrifying crescendo.

It was the sound of an uncanny, mirthless laugh. A whispered laugh, it lost its eerie shudder and rose to a
loud, mocking peal that drowned the babbling of Little Flower.

Sharp gasps came from the members of the circle. The linked hands of the sitters trembled. That laugh
had sounded like a dooming knell uttered by some fierce power of another world!

The laugh died away; then came a low reverberation, as though the tones had echoed back from space
itself.

A creepy chilling silence followed. Then, Little Flower's babble resumed, incoherent and tremulous, no
longer certain!

"JohnтАФJon-a-thanтАФhe try to sayтАФhe try to sayтАФoneтАФone-"

With terrifying suddenness, that awful laugh again burst through the darkness. Shorter, louder it sounded.
It broke off in the midst of a weird peal; then, after a second's pause, the same tones were duplicated
with less volume. A longer pause, and another mirthless peal. Then, after a heart-bursting wait, the
uncanny gibe came as a sinister whisper from corridors of nothingness!

Little Flower's last babble did not return. There was a moaning from the medium at the head of the circle.
A man's voice groaned.

"Lights! Lights! Turn on the lights!" came a tense whisper.

Some one complied. With the snap of the light switch, the room was flooded with illumination.