ws I am as liable to
be dead as alive when he comes again."

"Oh, sir, you aren't going to die!"

"That's what I'm afraid of, Biggs. But they'll call me dead and go ahead
and embalm me and make sure of it."

"Oh, sir, I wish----"

"Now remember, Biggs," broke in the sick man, "shoot the first
undertaker that tries to put that mummy stuff in my veins."

"I understand perfectly, sir," answered Biggs, fearful lest the other's
excitement might again give him a turn for the worse.

"I know I'm apparently going to pass away. My father and grandfather
both had this cussed virus in their veins, and I don't believe either of
them was dead when he was pronounced so!"

"Well, if by any chance--that is, if you," began Biggs desperately, "if
you are apparently--dead--why not have them keep your body here in the
house for a time?"

"Convention, formality, custom, hide-bound law!" the banker fairly
frothed. "The health authorities would come here with an army and see
that I was buried. No, Biggs, I've got a fine crypt out there, all quiet
and secure, good ventilation, electric lights, like a pullman berth--and
a push-button. That precludes all notoriety. It's secret and safe. The
electrician who installed the apparatus died four years ago. So you and
I, alone, possess this knowledge."

"Don't you think someone else should know of it too? Your attorney,
or----"

"No, Biggs. If I really am dead I don't want anyone to write up my
eccentricities for some Sunday magazine sheet. And if I do come back,
then it will be time to tell the gaping public about my cleverness."

"I wish you weren't so--so cold-blooded about it all, sir."

"I have always hit straight from the shoulder, Hiram, and I'm facing
this death business as I'd face any other proposition. I'm not ready to
cash in, and if I can cheat the doctors, undertakers, lawyers, heirs,
and chief mourners for a few more years, I'm going to do it. And don't
forget poor old granddad. He might have been up and about yet had he but
used my scheme."

* * * * *

Biggs turned away, sick at heart. It was too terrible beyond words. To
him his religion was as essential as daily bread. Death was the
culmination of cherished belief and constant prayer. As his years
declined he had faced the inevitable day with simple faith that when the
summons came he would go gladly, like him "who wraps the drapery of his
couch about him and lies down to pleasant dream