WILL GOLDSTON'S SPY SERVICE.

A FELLOW magician once referred to me as "The Mystery Man of Mystery Men." This may or may not have been intended as a compliment. It is a fact, however, that for many years I succeeded in baffling--perhaps I should say hoodwinking--many of the greatest magicians of my time.

How does Will Goldston know? That is the question which Harry Houdini, Carl Hertz, John Nevil Maskelyne, David Devant, Chung Ling Soo, and many others, have asked themselves repeatedly in the past. All these men have from time to time been exceedingly vexed, not to say annoyed, with me. Not one was ever able to understand how I was able to explain the full details and working of his latest tricks and illusions.

This was a cause of secret satisfaction to myself and of considerable irritation to the others.

It was even whispered that I employed a sort of intelligence service to discover the secrets of my brother magicians. My hired spies, it was rumoured, visited the various magical workshops, and either by bribery or force, found out the secrets of the newest illusions under construction.

David Devant was my victim on more than one occasion. Many people will still recall his excellent "Spelling Fish" effect at Maskelyne's Theatre. In this, he presented a large bowl filled with gold fish. The letters of the alphabet, printed on small white cards, were dropped into the bowl, and any word given by a member of the audience was spelt out by the letters with uncanny accuracy.

The trick was worked by a number of silver wires in the water, controlled by a button-hook beneath the stage. I published a full working explanation of the trick in one of my Magician's Annuals, including an accurate design of the button-hook. On another occasion I congratulated him on his improvement in the "Magic Kettle" trick, when he was able to pour out any named drink from a tin kettle. This trick had been done before, but the latest improvement, known only to Devant and his mechanic, was effected by means of a number of rubber tubes in the handle. He was astounded when I told him how it was done.

John Nevil Maskelyne was another whose secret's were often known to me. I recall meeting him on one occasion in the foyer of St. George's Hall.

"Well, Goldston," said he, "have you discovered any new secrets?

"Plenty," I replied, shortly.

"There's one you don't know, at any rate," he retorted. "I'm building an illusion now, and not even Devant knows about it. It will cause a big sensation."

I made no answer. As a matter of fact, I knew all about Maskelyne's new trick, and was determined to spring a surprise on him. It was an exceedingly clever effect which was to be known as "The Entranced Fakir." A man and a wicker basket were to be introduced to the audience. The man was to step into the basket, which by some invisible means, suspended itself in the air. At a given signal the basket was to fall to the ground, showing that its occupant had completely vanished.

The following day, I called on Maskelyne, and showed him the complete plans of his new illusion. For a moment I feared he had lost his reason. His eyes got bigger and bigger, and he muttered all sorts of dire imprecations under his breath.

"How did you know?" he cried, when he had sufficiently recovered to speak.

"Even the walls have ears," I said, picking up my hat. "But believe me, your secret will be quite safe."

I left him still staring at the prints.

Shortly afterwards I heard he had completely destroyed his half-finished apparatus. There was no doubt that the great John Nevil was sorely vexed with Will Goldston. I thought it a pity he had acted so childishly, for the illusion was most ingenious, and would have been a great success.

But my greatest triumph in this respect concerns Houdini, who guarded his secrets more jealously than any magician I ever met. He had an excellent opening trick in which he called a committee of the audience on to the stage. After his mouth had been carefully examined, he apparently swallowed two dozen loose needles and several yards of cotton. Then he took a drink from a tumbler of water. The climax was reached when he produced the cotton from his mouth with the twenty four needles threaded on it. This was one of Harry's most baffling tricks, and incidentally, one of his favourites.

I told him exactly how he concealed the duplicate needles and cotton in his mouth, and in what manner, he hid them from the eyes of the examining committee. Houdini became exceedingly angry, and demanded that I should tell him how I came by my knowledge. But I preferred to keep my secret.

Things got to such a pitch that several well known illusionists employed a detective to shadow me. They were determined at all costs to discover how their secrets leaked out. But when they found I attended at my office and carried out my regular business routine each day, they became more perplexed than ever.

There is now no reason why I should not make the truth known. I have had my laughs, and I feel it is time the "spy" theory was exploded for ever. It is pure fiction. Never at any time have I bribed information, or broken into the workshops of my brother magicians.

My sole means of getting information wasprofessional jealousy. Magicians, as a whole are a highly jealous race. Thus, if Willie Smith's handkerchief illusion is better than Fred Jones' rice bowls, then there is bound to be bad feeling on the part of Fred. Consequently he is only too eager to probe into Willie's secrets, and, if possible, expose them. And so Fred comes to Will Goldston with excitement dancing in his eyes.

"Do you know how Willie does his handkerchiefs?" he asks. "Well, it's like this " And he goes on to give me the full details of Willie's wonderful trick. "You can publish that in your next book, can't you?" he says, hopefully.

That is my secret. Of course, my own knowledge as an inventor of magical apparatus has helped me considerably in putting two and two together. But my so-called "spies" were none other than the very magicians who wondered how I knew their tricks!

In conclusion, I would like to point out that although, from time to time, I have published many volumes containing magical secrets, I have always attempted to give impartial treatment to friend and foe alike. I have a reputation for "smelling out" secrets, but, so far as I know, not for unfair play.

I have never written books from a commercial standpoint. My sole idea is to preserve a record of the illusions of my time, to be passed down to the magicians of the future. It is a fact that many of the cleverest members of my profession have selfishly carried their secrets to the grave. Houdini and Chung Ling Soo are cases in point. That is not fair play. Magic must live after its creators have passed on. I feel I have a duty to perform, and trust that, after my death, others will be found to carry on the work that I have started.