“A capital idea,” said the professor. “We will wrap the logs well so they will not rattle, and, as the casket is an especially heavy one, they will be none the wiser until it is opened at the grave.”
I ran upstairs and tore two heavy comforters from my bed, and with these we soon had the logs well padded. Miss Randall called that the room was ready. The professor and I carefully lifted my uncle from the casket and were about to take him from the room, when a gruff voice commanded:
“Schtop!”
A dozen masked men, armed indiscriminately with shotguns, rifles and revolvers, were standing in the hall. We could hear the stamping of many more on the porch. I recognized the voice and figure of the leader as those of Glitch.
“Back in der coffin,” he said, pointing a double-barreled shotgun at me. “Poot him back, or I blow your tam head off.”
Then several other men came in and menaced us with their weapons.
CHAPTER V.
I dropped my uncle’s feet and rushed furiously at Glitch, but was quickly seized and overpowered by two stalwart farmers.
The professor, however, was more calm. He laid my uncle gently on the floor and faced the men.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “may I ask the reason for this sudden and unwarranted intrusion in a peaceful home?”