Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Backward Mule

“You mean the mental action?”

“No, the physical action. You are first concentrating on what to do. Then the brain orders the muscles to respond. The reaction time is measured in fractions of a second. Once the muscles begin to respond, the mind has ceased to use all of its powers on a contemplation of the mental problem.”

Maynard said, “Until you started pointing out the principles of concentration to me, I would have sworn that I could have concentrated for ten minutes at a time quite easily.”

“Try concentrating on the tip of my finger for just two seconds,” Clane said. “Let me know when you’re ready by moving your right hand just an inch or two.” Clane took a watch from his pocket. “Are you ready?”

Maynard stared intently at Clane’s extended finger. “Just a moment,” he said.

There was silence in the room for as much as ten seconds, then Maynard moved his right hand.

Instantly Clane pocketed his watch.

“Well?” Maynard asked.

“Will you be perfectly frank with me?” Clane asked.

“Yes.”

“You waited to move your right hand until you had banished all extraneous thoughts from your mind, didn’t you?”

“Naturally.”

“And when you moved your right hand, you felt that you had brought every bit of mental power to bear upon the tip of my finger.”

“Exactly.”

Clane said, smilingly, “Of course, it wasn’t a test, Mr. Maynard. It was merely a demonstration. I was taking an unfair advantage of you.”

Somewhat nettled, Maynard said, “I don’t think you did. As a matter of fact, Mr. Clane, I think I concentrated on the tip of your finger for a full two seconds at least.”

Clane said, “It wasn’t what they would have called concentration in the Orient, for even as much as a millionth of a second. But as a matter of fact, according to your own definition of concentration, it didn’t last for as much as a tenth of a second. I timed it.”

“I beg your pardon,” Maynard said almost angrily. “How did you know when I ceased concentrating? You put your watch away almost the moment I moved my right hand. You didn’t wait for a full two seconds.”

“You’re certain?”

“Absolutely. The minute I moved my right hand you suddenly snapped your watch back into your pocket.”

“Then you noticed the time element, that it lacked the full period?”

“Yes.”

“Then a portion of your mind was thinking about the watch in my hand and about the period of time which had elapsed.”

“Well, I think that’s only natural.”

“It’s only natural,” Clane said, “but surely you must realize that a mind which is thinking about a watch and trying to determine the passing of a time interval is hardly concentrating all of its faculties upon some other matter.”

Maynard frowned, then abruptly laughed. “You win,” he said. “I must devote more time to studying this Oriental concept of concentration.”

“You won’t find it in books.”

“Where will I find it?”

“In yourself.”

“But you went to the Orient. You spent several years in study for the purpose of learning to concentrate for a matter of seconds.”

“That’s right.”

Maynard said, “Well, it certainly is most interesting. It’s something I’d like to discuss with you further, Mr. Clane, but I think you have now sufficiently relaxed so we may proceed with the test. You’ll remember that I told you that I’d be fair with you when I was ready to start the test.”

“Thank you, that’s appreciated.”

“And now if you’re ready we’ll begin on the test, Mr. Clane?”

“Quite ready,” Clane said and then added smilingly, “able and willing.”

“You’re acquainted with Cynthia Renton?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Quite a few years.”

“You have recently arrived in this city?”

“Yes.”

“Just a few hours ago?”

“Yes.”

“You knew that Edward Harold had been convicted of the murder of Horace Farnsworth?”

“I did.”

“Did you know that he had escaped from custody?”

“Not until Captain Jordon announced it to me a short time ago.”

“You have had correspondence with Cynthia Renton in which she has told you something about Edward Harold’s troubles?”

“Yes.”

“Did it surprise you that she didn’t meet you at the boat?”

“Frankly, it did.”

“Then there must have been some extraordinary reason for her absence?”

“Perhaps.”

“And did it occur to you that perhaps the reason she was absent was that she was with Edward Harold?”

Clane realized now the deadly web which was being spun about him. It wasn’t only a question of learning what he knew, but these men with the aid of this machine were intent upon reading his mind, upon using his own mental processes to trap Cynthia Renton. There must be some way of beating a machine of this kind. Clane had read somewhere that the thing could be done by surreptitiously moving a foot, provided it was done at just the right time. That would give a slight rise to the blood pressure. The thing to do was to watch carefully and do it at just the right question. It wouldn’t do to have the blood pressure rise on one of the danger questions. It must be done on one of the minor questions so that the record would be thrown off the normal pattern. Clane waited, feeling certain that Maynard, having probed his mind as far as he felt was feasible on that point, would ask a few casual questions to relax the witness. But Maynard asked one more pertinent highly dangerous question. “Do you have any idea where Miss Renton might be now?”

Clane said, “No.” But even as he spoke, he felt certain that the machine had betrayed him. There was only one thing to do and that was move his foot on the next question.

“Could you tell us approximately how long Cynthia Renton has been acquainted with Edward Harold?”

“I think about two years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Clane,” Maynard said. “You moved your foot slightly. I forgot to caution you about that. The thing to do is to remain perfectly relaxed and not twitch or engage in any voluntary muscular motion. You see, we have a device on the machine now which registers voluntary muscular motions but that doesn’t prevent the needle from giving a slight rise in its reading. It used to be that people could confuse our readings by slight, almost imperceptible twitches of the leg or wiggling of the big toe. So in order to compensate for that it was necessary to arrange to show when some voluntary muscular motion threw our readings off.”

“I see,” Clane said smiling. “I’m glad you told me. You see, I don’t know too much about these machines.”

“They’re very fascinating. Sometime I’ll explain them in detail to you in return for a little more of that interesting explanation of the Oriental development of the mind.”

“Sometime when we both have more time,” Clane said.

“Exactly.”

Abruptly Clane thought back to the time when he had been captured by bandits, when the suave Oriental who led the bandit gang had been about to chop off a finger to send with a ransom demand. By conscious effort Clane held that experience in mental abeyance, just back of the threshold of consciousness.

Maynard’s voice went on smoothly, switching to a routine question. “Do you know any of the circumstances in connection with the murder of Horace Farnsworth?” he asked.

Abruptly Clane threw a mental image of these bandits into his consciousness, and so well did he do it that for a moment he experienced emotional tension all over again. Then he let the image fade from his mind.

“No,” he said. “I was, of course, out of the country at the time he was murdered.”