the most horrid form, and follow you wherever you go!”

While thus cursing, Bertram rose, and, in his death grasp, took hold of Bolton’s throat, but Bolton, with a loud shriek, dashed the murdered man from him, and hurried into the next chamber to search for his gold.

He found several bags of money in an old oak chest.

The sight of the glittering coin ravished his eyes, dancing as they were with fiendish triumph.

“’Tis well,” said Bolton, “the old man is richer than I thought. Now for the notes; he has them concealed in the lining of his boots.”

Emptying the gold into his many large capacious pockets he unsheathed his dirk.

“I will cut his boots open, and secure the notes,” said he.

Lantern in hand, he re-entered the room where the lifeless body lay.

His eyes almost darted from their sockets at the sight he then saw.

Each hair on his head stood on end; he trembled in every limb.

His very marrow was frozen at the awful spectacle before him.

The body was legless!

Each leg had been disjointed just above the knee!

The limbs were gone!

“How could this happen?” mused the guilty man, trembling from head to foot.

Just at that moment he heard loud laughter outside in the garden—laughter not like that of men, but of demons.

He rushed to the window, and saw below the hideous forms of a dozen skeleton men, dancing and shouting in wild delight.

“Some of the Skeleton Crew!” he gasped, placing his hands before his face to shut out the horrid sight.

On the instant they vanished in the darkness, with loud shouts of mockery, like things of air!

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