True to his
word, the man arrived at the charnel house at the
appointed hour. After groping around in the
darkness for a few moments, his fingers found a
skull. He was just making off with it when a
sepulchral voice cried out from above his head:
"That's mine!"
Hastily
dropping the skull, the man waited a few moments,
and then spurred on by the terms of the wager,
stretched forth his trembling fingers and found
another. He had almost reached the door when the
voice called out again in a more threatening
tone: "That's mine!"
Once again, he
dropped the skull, then, girding himself for one
last effort, grasped hold of a third.
Immediately, the voice snapped with greater
menace: "That's mine!"
"What!"
exclaimed the man, "are they all thine? Thee
great liard, whoever heard of a man living or
dead with three skulls? I tell 'ee I will have
one!"
Saying this, he
grasped the third skull under his arm and dashed
from the place with all speed.
His action won
him the wager, and it was a somewhat crestfallen
figure which shortly afterwards dropped down from
the rafters, and made his way to the public
house, where the hero of the hour was loudly
vaunting the powers of darkness which he had
overcome!
