Ellis entered the place. At a table sat the Reverend Norman Hale, with an expression of radiant happiness on his gaunt face. The barkeeper, who, on his own initiative, had just brought in a steaming hot drink, stood watching him with unfeigned concern. Hale welcomed Ellis warmly, and drew a chair close for him.
"You sent for Mr. Surtaine," said Ellis.
"Did I?" asked the other vaguely. "I forget. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters, now. Ellis, I've found out the secret."
"What secret?"
"The great secret. The solution," replied the young minister, buoyantly. "All that is necessary is to get the bodies."
"Yes, of course," agreed the other, with rising uneasiness. "But they smuggle them out as fast—"
"They won't when I've told them. McGuire Ellis,"—he gripped his companion suddenly with fingers that clamped like a burning vise,—"I can bring the dead back to life."
"Tell me about it. But take a swallow of this first." Ellis pushed the hot drink toward him. "You're cold."
"Nothing but excitement. The glory of it! All this suffering and grief and death—"
"Wait a minute. I want a drink myself."