"Waal, I should murmur," Hank grunted, leaving the table with a spring, and landing near the door. "What the devil's the matter?"
"Cussed ef the cadaver o' Bill Budge didn't speak," the first man cried.
"Git out! Budge has bin dead over a year; how in thunder could he speak?"
"Mebbe his spirit hes come back inter his head."
"Pooh! impossible! It was our fancy; we didn't hear nothin'," Hank growled, edging a little nearer to the door.
"You're a liar!" thundered a voice, seeming to come directly from between the pearly teeth of the suspended head, and to make matters worse, the head began to swing slowly to and fro.
With howls and curses, the two masked men made the hastiest kind of an exit from the room and down the stairs, while Fritz in the attic was convulsed with laughter.
"Dot was better as half-a-dozen suppers, py shimminy!" he snorted, holding his sides.
All was now quiet for some time, except for the howling of the storm without.
But, finally, footsteps were again heard, and eight men, all masked but one, filed into the room.