At the Eleventh Hour
teeth. His hands clenched and unclenched convulsively. "I tell you I had it! Can't you do as I tell you? Do you want the thing to get away from us again? Oh, man, do as I tell you!"
"Hold on a minute! What was it you had?" Merritt asked. Deane's voice rose to a shriek of angry impotence.
"The mummy, you fool, the mummy! Can't you understand? Will you look for it, damn you!"
"The mummy!" Merritt echoed blankly. The solution of Deane's conduct flashed upon him; Deane was undoubtedly mad; the overwrought brain at last had given way. But Deane was speaking, in a high, shrill voice that staggered and stuttered crazily.
"I found it here, down among the tombs. I knew I should; I was waiting
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