“Why, there’s Plug.”
“Where?” asked the professor.
“There,” said I. “There,” said we all, pointing to the spot.
“I see no one in the room but ourselves,” said the professor, “and I have private reasons to believe that Thomas, whom you impolitely call Plug, will not be here to-night. I shall not mention why I think so here.”
“But I see him,” cried Decker.
“There!” said Sprat.
“There!” said I.
“There!” said Brown.
“How dare you say so, young gentlemen?” said Mrs. Stuffemwell.
But we all saw Plug, white as a sheet, his black tongue sticking out of his mouth; and as he came toward us, and we saw a red stain on his breast, we knew it was his ghost; and Decker uttered an awful yell, and flung himself on his knees, and began to pray for mercy on his soul. And then the professor began to roar, and Mrs. Stuffemwell to shriek with laughter, and Plug, pulling something black out of his mouth, laughed, too.