While Ned spoke thus, the old landlord, who was about to leave the room, hastily returned.
“What makes you so pale, old man?” asked Ned.
The publican did not reply. He seemed struck dumb with astonishment.
At the door stood two of the Skeleton Crew. They walked slowly into the room, and looked at Wildfire Ned with a long, steadfast gaze.
Ned jumped to his feet, and, quick as thought, fired both pistols at them.
The balls could be heard rattling through their bones.
But they stirred not.
With a laugh, loud and mocking, they seized Tim by his arms, and would have borne him away.
Tim, almost in a jelly with fear, wriggled and writhed like an eel.
The skeletons swung Tim to and fro for a second or two, and then threw him with great violence into a corner near the coal cellar, and there he lay very humbly and meekly, and did not dare stir an inch.