“Now I read your mind like it was an open book; never having seen you, never having met you before.” He intoned it like a chant. “You been thinking of something, right? Now I read your mind and tell you what you been thinking of. You been thinking I haven’t got no real powers, that I can’t read minds. Am I right, quick, tell me.”
“No,” I told him. “I didn’t have much chance to think, but I was thinking about a certain fish dinner.”
“You mean you never doubted my powers?”
“Possibly I did.”
“That’s the thought he picked up,” explained Madam Moyer while her husband nodded wisely. “That was your main thought, so that’s what he picked up.”
I began to realize they had a system here and became more interested.
“You want to take in our performance tonight,” urged Mr. Moyer. “It’s wonderful how I can take a crowd of people and lay bare everything they’re thinking. I don’t use no hooks, wires, gimmicks, or other devices. I just work with my hands and this.” He tapped his forehead.
The Moyers weren’t exactly my idea of magicians, but I knew they were probably the closest thing to real magicians I was likely to meet. At last I was going to work with someone who claimed supernatural powers. With a light heart I started setting up their living top for them, looking forward to a very interesting acquaintanceship.