"He moved!" cried Uncle Henry, excited now, and rising in his chair, which he wheeled out into the room.
"Moved!" cried "Red." "You're crazy! He's stone dead, if ever anyone was."
"I seen him—I swear I seen him!" Uncle Henry's eyes were almost popping from his head. "Why didn't someone do something? Why didn't they see what he saw? Oh, to be able to walk, and not sit forever like a dried mummy in this chair!
"But how could he have moved?" "Red" exclaimed. "He's dead, I say!"
"I don't know how he could!" Uncle Henry cried, "but he did! Look at him!" He could scarcely control himself now.
"Maybe Lopez didn't kill him after all," "Red" said, and knelt down to examine Pell's body again.
"Now don't tell me that!" Uncle Henry yelled. "Ain't we got trouble enough here without him comin' back?" He could have stood any calamity, it seemed, but the return to life of this wretched Morgan Pell.
"By golly!" "Red" exclaimed, on his knees, his hand on Pell's white face.
"Was I right?" Uncle Henry said.