"
"Look me squarely in the eye, young man, and tell me whether you do not
have a sensation as though your heart were cutting capers?"
"Not in the least," said Yates, calmly. "If that machine worked at all it
wouldn't surprise me if you yourself had become entangled in it--caught
in your own machine!"
"W-what!" exclaimed Carr, faintly.
"It wouldn't astonish me in the slightest," repeated Yates, delighted to
discover the dawning alarm in the older man's features. "_You_ opened the
receiver; _you_ have psychic waves as well as I. _I_ was in love at the
time; _you_ were not. What was there to prevent your waves from being
hitched to a wireless current and, finally, signaling the subconscious
personality of--of some pretty actress, for example?"
Mr. Carr sank nervously onto a chair; his eyes, already wild, became
wilder as he began to realize the risk he had unthinkingly taken.
"Perhaps _you_ feel a little--queer. You look it," suggested the young
man, in a voice made anxious by an ever-ready sympathy. "Can I do
anything? I am really very sorry to have spoken so."
A damp chill gathered on the brow of Bushwyck Carr. He _did_ feel a
trifle queer. A curious lightness--a perfectly inexplicable buoyancy
seemed to possess him. He was beginning to feel strangely youthful; the
sound of his own heart suddenly became apparent. To his alarm it was
beating playfully, skittishly.
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