Argus Answered

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 434, 16 August 1928, Page 16

Argus Answered

TELEPATHY TESTS MR. LIDDLE DEMONSTRATES In the Operatic Society’s Hall last evening, and before an audience of about 200 people, Mr. K. W. Liddle, whose recent efforts to expose “Argus, the Boy Wonder,” aroused widespread controversy, demonstrated how similar accomplishments could be achieved by trickery and without mental telepathy. In the main the tests were successful. Mr. Liddle was billed to demonstrate what he called the three Argus tests: (1) Naming of cards selected by members of the audience. (2) Divination of numbers selected by an independent committee from a hat (on the stage). (3) Divination of numbers written by the committee members on a blackboard on the stage. Mr. Liddle himself to be absent from the hall while the assistant undertook this test. The assistant was blindfolded throughout. The audience was manifestly interested in the tests, and one or two protesting voices made themselves heard during the performance. First a man was sent to the rear of the hall with his back to the stage, and wrote three figures on a slate, while the assistant (facetiously described by Mr. Liddle as “The Boy Wonder”), wrote similar characters on a slate which he held on the stage. This incidental act provoked one member of the audience to demand another test, but Mr. Liddle ignored the request, and proceeded to distribute envelopes and cards among the audience for numbers, questions, remarks or addresses. TRICKS WITH CARDS Mr. Liddle went into the audience and with his back to the stage took playing cards from the hands of the audience, the assistant endeavouring to name them from the stage. “Think hard,” reminded Mr. Liddle, when the assistant said “hearts” instead of “diamonds.” “It is the two of diamonds,” replied the assistant prompaly. “Right,” said Mr. Liddle, and the audience applauded. The next two cards required two efforts of “the boy wonder,” but the fourth was picked immediately. Three cards were then selected by the audience and replaced in the pack, which was shuffled. The assistant then took the pack, and, beneath a handkerchief (and still blindfold) drew the cards selected, requiring four tries to get the three cards. A digression, which was not in the show, occurred when the man who asked for the second slate test persisted in his request. “Do you refuse to do it?” he asked. “Absolutely,” replied Mr. Liddle. The Hostile Stranger: Go on; your own crowd did it before. Why don’t you admit you are only a half-pi© showman? Mr. Liddle: That was only an incidental. It is to be remembered that we are here to expose Argus by trickery, and not by actual thought-read-ing. NO THOUGHT-READER A committee (including the hostile one) was taken on to the stage, where

the assistant correctly named the figures written on the board. The stranger became annoyed half-way through, however, and announced: “I have pleasure in retiring from the committee” —a fact which appeared to please rather than disappoint the audience, for they applauded roundly. Cards upon which the audience had written were unsealed by Mr. Liddle and the assistant, gazing into the crystal, read each one correctly, answering their questions as he deemed fitting. Mr. Liddle explained that he did not undertake to describe articles in the audience, as the preparation of this would entail three months of training. “Like Argus,” he said, “we do this by trickery.” A protest was immediately raised by the hostile one, who called the show a fake. A Voice: He is not a thoughtreader. The Stranger: Well. Argus is. As the curtain fell, Mr. Liddle claimed that he had in the main proved that the Argus tests were accomplished by trickery. Argus is at present playing in Hawke’s Bay. The tests were given during a performance of the New Zealand Society of Magicians, the items in which were much appreciated.