Part 39 (1/2)

The fellow's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He swallowed just as fast as Lazarus could dump Elixir in.

”That should do him.” Lazarus uncrouched himself and rushed backward.

I moved away some, and breathed again.

I didn't rightly know what to make of all this, but I was sure keen to see what would happen next.

What happened next was, the fellow let out a squeal that made my hair rise. Then he bolted up, buggy-eyed and wheezing, grabbed the edges of his box and leaped to his feet. He looked down at himself. He glanced at Lazarus, then at me. Then he cried out, ”Whoooeeee!” and commenced to clap his hands and prance about on the floor of his casket. ”I'm saved!” he yelled. ”Lordy, Lordy, I'm saved saved!” Well, he hopped over the side and bounded toward me, weeping and laughing.

I was just too shocked and perplexed to get clear of him in time. He grabbed me and hugged me and kissed my cheek. And didn't he stink! I shoved him off, and he went skipping over to Lazarus and gave him a slew of hugs and kisses.

Lazarus acted more friendly toward him than I'd done. I reckon he was used to such doings. Instead of trying to free himself from the creature, he hugged him and patted his head. ”No call to take on,” he said. ”You're fine. You're just fine, young man.”

”I was hung hung! I was dead and gone gone!”

”You've been revivified,” Lazarus explained, giving him another hug. ”You've been returned to the land of the living with the aid of my patented Glory Elixir.”

”Glory Elixir?”

”Good for what ails you.”

”Glory! Glory hallelujah!” He broke away from Lazarus and I feared he might come after me again, but instead he dropped to his knees and hoisted his arms into the air. He gloried and hallelujahed for quite a spell.

He was still at it when Lazarus stepped around him. He walked toward me, looking solemn and thoughtful. ”You've witnessed the miracle,” he said.

”Witnessed something.”

He laid an arm across my shoulders and led me toward the wagon. ”It's truly a wondrous thing to behold, the restorative power of the Glory Elixir. It revives the dead! Just imagine the curative miracles that such a fluid works on the living, such as yourself. Why, with ten ten bottles at your disposal, I've no doubt but what you'll find yourself fit as a fiddle for a century at the very least.” bottles at your disposal, I've no doubt but what you'll find yourself fit as a fiddle for a century at the very least.”

We stopped at the rear of the wagon, and he climbed in.

While Lazarus was out of sight, I turned my attention to the other fellow. He was still on his knees, but he'd quit acting strange. His face had the same dingy gray hue as when he'd been dead, which was odd. Now that he was breathing again, seemed like his skin should've taken on a healthier color.

When he saw me looking at him, he smiled.

”How'd you like being dead?” I asked.

”Not much,” he said.

”If you don't care for it, you'd best hurry off. Lazarus aims to rekill you.”

”Trevor!” Lazarus shouted from inside the wagon.

”I thought he ought to know, actually.”

The revived fellow wasn't smiling any more. But he wasn't lighting out, either.

”You'd best skedaddle,” I warned him.

He just stayed kneeling there.

Lazarus crawled backward, dragging a wooden box out through the blanket. ”Why'd you want to tell him such things?” he asked. He sounded a trifle peeved.

”Well, don't worry yourself. He's still here.”

After climbing down, Lazarus called to him, ”The lad's jos.h.i.+ng you.”

”Oh, I know that, Jethro.”

Dr. Jethro Lazarus rolled his eyes heavenward. Then he pulled a bottle from the box, just as if nothing had gone amiss. ”There's one,” he said, and handed it to me.

”You told told me you intended to rekill him,” I said. me you intended to rekill him,” I said.

”Don't mean he he has to know it.” has to know it.”

”He'll know it quickly enough when you have a go at throttling him.”

”I'll make it quick and painless.”

”Tell you what, I'll make it quicker.” Well, I swung around and tossed the bottle into my left hand and slapped leather with my right.

Lazarus yelled, ”No!”

His buddy yelled, ”Don't!”

Then my Colt was blazing, blasting up dust all around him. He sprang to his feet. He dodged about.

”Hold still!” I shouted.

He froze and reached for the sky.

”Please! Don't! Don't shoot!”

”No call to fret,” I told him, and took careful aim at his chest. ”Dr. Lazarus'll revive you.”

Lazarus chuckled. ”I do believe we've been found out.”

”He's fixing to plug me!”

Shaking my head, I holstered the Colt.

The dead fellow looked quite relieved. He came toward us, watching me careful. Along the way, he dug a hand into a pocket of his trousers and dragged out a sort of rodent by its tail. It looked as flat as if it had gotten stepped on. He gave it a fling and it thumped into the casket. ”How'd he catch on?” he asked Lazarus.

”You called me by my name, dummy.”

”It was more than that,” I said, rather pleased with myself. For the first time since the big shootout at the camp, I didn't feel horrible. I found myself smiling. ”Why, do you two frauds actually fool fool folks with your game?” folks with your game?”