“Ve are going to bury dot vampire corpse mit a stake t’rough its heart. Dot’s vot,” replied Glitch.
“What would you do if I were to tell you that this man is not dead, but alive?” asked the professor.
“Alive or dead, he’s gonna be buried tonight,” said a burly ruffian, stepping up to my uncle. “One o’ you guys help me get this in the coffin.”
A tall, lean farmer stepped up and leaned his gun against the casket. Then the two of them roughly lifted my uncle into it and screwed down the lid.
In the meantime, another had discovered the wrapped logs, to which he called the attention of his companions.
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” he said. “Thought yuh was pretty slick, didn’t yuh? Thought yuh could fool us with a coupla logs? Just for that we’ll take yuh along to the party so yuh don’t try no more fancy capers.”
“Gentlemen,” said the professor, “do you realize that you will be committing a murder if you bury this man’s body?”
“Murder, hell!” exclaimed one. “He killed my boy.”
“He sucked my daughter’s blood,” cried another.