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Vera； The Medium
by Richard Harding Davis
Part I
Happy in the hope that the news was 〃exclusive〃； the Despatch
had thrown the name of Stephen Hallowell； his portrait； a
picture of his house； and the words； 〃At Point of Death！〃 across
three columns。 The announcement was heavy； lachrymose； bristling
with the melancholy self…importance of the man who 〃saw the
deceased； just two minutes before the train hit him。〃
But the effect of the news fell short of the effort。 Save that
city editors were irritated that the presidents of certain
railroads figured hastily on slips of paper； the fact that an
old man and his millions would soon be parted； left New York
undisturbed。
In the early 80's this would not have been so。 Then； in the
uplifting of the far West； Stephen Hallowell was a national
figure； in the manoeuvres of the Eastern stock market an active；
alert power。 In those days； when a man with a few millions was
still listed as rich； his fortune was considered colossal。
A patent coupling…pin； the invention of his brother…in…law； had
given him his start； and； in introducing it； and in his efforts
to force it upon the new railroads of the West； he had obtained
a knowledge of their affairs。 From that knowledge came his
wealth。 That was twenty years ago。 Since then giants had arisen
in the land； men whose wealth made the fortune of Stephen
Hallowell appear a comfortable competence； his schemes and
stratagems； which； in their day； had bewildered Wall Street； as
simple as the trading across the counter of a cross…roads store。
For years he had been out of it。 He had lost count。 Disuse and
ill health had rendered his mind feeble； made him at times
suspicious； at times childishly credulous。 Without friends；
along with his physician and the butler； who was also his nurse；
he lived in the house that in 76； in a burst of vanity； he had
built on Fifth Avenue。 Then the house was a 〃mansion；〃 and its
front of brown sandstone the outward sign of wealth and fashion。
Now； on one side； it rubbed shoulders with the shop of a man
milliner； and across the street the houses had been torn down
and replaced by a department store。 Now； instead of a sombre
jail…like facade； his outlook was a row of waxen ladies； who；
before each change of season； appeared in new and gorgeous
raiment； and； across the avenue； for his approval； smiled
continually。
〃It is time you moved； Stephen；〃 urged his friend and lawyer；
Judge Henry Gaylor。 〃I can get you twice as much for this lot as
you paid for both it and the house。〃
But Mr。 Hallowell always shook his head。 〃 Where would I go；
Henry？〃 he would ask。 〃What would I do with the money？ No； I
will live in this house until I am carried out of it。〃
With distaste； the irritated city editors 〃followed up〃 the
three…column story of the Despatch。
〃Find out if there's any truth in that；〃 they commanded。 〃The
old man won't see you； but get a talk out of Rainey。 And see
Judge Gaylor。 He's close to Hallowell。 Find out from him if that
story didn't start as a bear yarn in Wall Street。〃
So； when Walsh of the Despatch was conducted by Garrett； the
butler of Mr。 Hallowell； upstairs to that gentlemen's library；
he found a group of reporters already entrenched。 At the door
that opened from the library to the bedroom； the butler paused。
〃What paper shall I say？〃 he asked。
〃The Despatch；〃 Walsh told him。
The servant turned quickly and stared at Walsh。
He appeared the typical butler； an Englishman of over forty；
heavily built； soft… moving； with ruddy； smooth…shaven cheeks
and prematurely gray hair。 But now from his face the look of
perfunctory politeness had fallen； the subdued voice had changed
to a snarl that carried with it the accents of the Tenderloin。
〃So； you're the one； are you？〃 the man muttered。
For a moment he stood scowling； insolent； almost threatening；
and then； once more； the servant opened the door and noiselessly
closed it behind him。
The transition had been so abrupt； the revelation so unexpected；
that the men laughed。
〃I don't blame him！〃 said young Irving。 〃I couldn't find a
single fact in the whole story。 How'd your people get it
pretty straight？〃
〃Seemed straight to us；〃 said Walsh。
〃Well； you didn't handle it that way；〃 returned the other。 〃Why
didn't you quote Rainey or Gaylor？ It seems to me if a man's on
the point of death〃 he lowered his voice and glanced toward
the closed door 〃that his private doctor and his lawyer might
know something about it。〃
Standing alone with his back to the window was a reporter who
had greeted no one and to whom no one had spoken。
Had he held himself erect he would have been tall； but he stood
slouching lazily； his shoulders bent； his hands in his pockets。
When he spoke his voice was in keeping with the indolence of his
bearing。 It was soft； hesitating； carrying with it the courteous
deference of the South。 Only his eyes showed that to what was
going forward he was alert and attentive。
〃Is Dr。 Rainey Mr。 Hallowell's family doctor？〃 he asked。
Irving surveyed him in amused superiority。
〃He is！〃 he answered。 You been long in New York？〃 he asked。
Upon the stranger the sarcasm was lost； or he chose to ignore
it； for he answered simply； 〃No； I'm a New Orleans boy。 I've
just been taken on the Republic。〃
〃Welcome to our city；〃 said Irving。 〃What do you think of our
Main Street？〃
From the hall a tall portly man entered the room with the
assurance of one much at home here and； with an exclamation；
Irving fell upon him。
〃Good morning； Judge；〃 he called。 He waved at him the clipping
from the Despatch。 〃Have you seen this？〃
Judge Gaylor accepted the slip of paper gingerly； and in turn
moved his fine head pompously toward each of the young men。 Most
of them were known to him； but for the moment he preferred to
appear too deeply concerned to greet them。 With an expression of
shocked indignation； he recognized only Walsh。
〃Yes； I have seen it；〃 he said； 〃and there is not a word of
truth in it！ Mr。 Walsh； I am surprised！ You； of all people！〃
〃We got it on very good authority；〃 said the reporter。
〃But why not call me up and get the facts？〃 demanded the Judge。
〃I was here until twelve o'clock； and 〃
〃Here！〃 interrupted Irving。 〃Then he did have a collapse？〃
Judge Gaylor swung upon his heel。
〃Certainly not；〃 he retorted angrily。 〃I was here on business；
and I have never known his mind more capable； more alert。〃 He
lifted his hands with an enthusiastic gesture。 〃I wish you could
have seen him！〃
〃Well；〃 urged Irving； 〃how about our seeing him now？〃
For a moment Judge Gaylor permitted his annoyance to appear； but
he at once recovered and； murmuring cheerfully； 〃Certainly；
certainly； I'll try to arrange it；〃 turned to the butler who had
re…entered the room。
〃Garett；〃 he inquired； 〃is Mr。 Hallowell awake yet？〃 As he asked
the question his eyebrows rose； with an almost imperceptible
shake of the head he signaled for an answer in the negative。
〃Well； there you are！〃 the Judge exclaimed heartily。 〃I can't
wake him； even to oblige you。 In a word； gentlemen； Stephen
Hallowell has never been in better health； mentally and bodily。
You can say that from me and that's all there is to say。〃
〃Then； we can say；〃 persisted Irving； 〃that you say； that
Walsh's story is a fake？〃
〃You can say it is not true；〃 corrected Gaylor。 〃That's all；
gentlemen。〃 The audience was at an end。 The young men moved
toward the hall and Judge Gaylor turned to the bedroom。 As he
did so； he found that the new man on the Republic still held his
ground。
〃Could I have a word with you； sir？〃 the stranger asked。 The
reporters halted jealously。 Again Gaylor showed his impatience。
〃About Mr。 Hallowell's health？〃 he demanded。 〃There's nothing
more to say。〃
〃No； it's not about his health；〃 ventured the reporter。
〃Well； not now。 I am very late this morning。〃 The Judge again
moved to the bedroom and the reporter； as though accepting the
verdict； started to follow the others。 As he did so； as though
in explanation or as a warning he added： 〃You said to always
come to you for the facts。〃 The lawyer halted； hesitated。 〃What
facts do you want？〃 he asked。 The reporter bowed； and waved his
broad felt hat toward the listening men。 In polite embarrassment
he explained what he had to say could not be spoken in their
presence。
Something in the manner of the stranger led Judge Gaylor to
pause。 He directed Garrett to accompany the reporters from the
room。 Then； with mock politeness； he turned to the one who
remained。 〃I take it； you are a new comer in New York
journalism。 What is your name？〃 he asked。
〃My name is Homer Lee；〃 said the Southerner。 〃I am a New Orleans
boy。 I've been only a month in your city。 Judge；〃 he began
earnestly； but in a voice which still held the drawl of the
South； 〃I met a man from home last week on Broadway。 He belonged
to that spiritualistic school on Carondelet Street。 He knows all
that's going on in the spook world； and he tells me the ghost
raisers have got their hooks into the old man pretty deep。 Is
that so？〃
The bewilderment of Judge Gaylor was complete and； without
question； ge