looked at him speculatively . "I know everyone in this neighborhood, sir, but I've never seen your face before," he said. "Can you account for yourself?"
"I'm Dr. Frederick Fronkonsteen, newly arrived from America."
"Oh, yes," the constable said, his manner becoming amiable again. "I was told you were here. Well, I'm Constable Henry, sir. I'm pleased to meet you." He extended a hand.
The stiff hand stretched forward and the Constable grasped it and shook it.
"Very nice to meet you," the doctor said.
The stiff arm retracted .
"Pleasure," the constable said . "You look chilled, sir," he said. "A nice warm fire is what you want." He winked. "A nip from the old bottle wouldn't be a bad idea either, would it?"
"Yes, yes, that would be the ticket."
"Well, if you have everything in hand, I'll say goodnight to you."
"Thank you very much."
"At your service, sir-always," the constable said, saluting.
The stiff arm flew up, returning the salute.
"Good-night again, sir."
"Good-night, Constable."
When the man had gone, the doctor raised the canvas. Igor was there, still with a firm grip on the stiff arm.
"Good work!" the doctor said.
"I like to keep a hand in," Igor said modestly .
The journey continued . When the doctor and Igor reached the castle, they lifted the coffin from the cart and carried it inside, then took it down to the laboratory . There, they removed the body from the wooden box and placed in on an operating table .
"Magnificent," Dr . Frankenstein said, stepping back and viewing the body. "What an awesome sight!"
"He's a big kid, all right," Igor agreed .
"With such a specimen, all we need now is an equally magnificent brain . "
"I'm using mine," Igor said, backing away .
"No-not you . Recently, according to the obits, there occurred the death of Dr . H . Delbruck. His brain is now on deposit in the Brain Depository . " He put a hand on Igor's hump. "I want that brain."
"This H. Delbruck, was he any good?" Igor asked.
"Was he any good? He was the finest natural philosopher, internal diagnostician, and chemical therapist of this century."
"How did he die?"
"V.D.," the doctor replied sadly.
"Bad break."
"But I'm sure his brain is still capable of functioning," the doctor said. "You know what to do-hurry!"
Igor started to leave.
But Dr. Frankenstein grabbed hold of one of his hands, halting him. "Be very careful with that brain!"
Igor indicated the hand that the doctor was gripping. "You can put your trust in that hand," he told him.
Dr. Frankenstein released him. "Fly!" Igor darted away. As he did, the hand that the doctor had been holding struck a row of beakers that were sitting on a table and sent them crashing to the floor.
Igor stopped and looked down at the scatter of shattered glass, then turned his eyes to the offending hand . He was silent and thoughtful for a second . Then, smiling once more he raised the other hand. "This one, I meant," he said.
"Git!" the doctor commanded.
Igor got.
When he had gone, the doctor began preparing for the operation. First on the schedule was an injection. Syringe in hand, Dr. Frankenstein approached the body -then hesitated.
"Dare I bring such a monstrous creature back to life?" he asked himself, speaking aloud. "What havoc might I wreak upon this unsuspecting world?" For another moment, his countenance showed the indecision, then it passed. "Well, we'll take a chance," the doctor said.
Raising the dead man's arm, he gave him the shot.
As the body was getting its shot, Igor was arriving at the special section of the village hospital that was used for the storing of brains for future transplants. He read the wording on the frosted glass door:
Brain Depository
After 5:00 P.M.
Slip Brains Through
Slot in Door
Igor reached under his cape and came up with a hairpin . Stooping, he inserted it into the lock in the door and twisted it expertly . There was a click. Igor straightened, put the hairpin back into his pocket, then opened the door and
"I'm Dr. Frederick Fronkonsteen, newly arrived from America."
"Oh, yes," the constable said, his manner becoming amiable again. "I was told you were here. Well, I'm Constable Henry, sir. I'm pleased to meet you." He extended a hand.
The stiff hand stretched forward and the Constable grasped it and shook it.
"Very nice to meet you," the doctor said.
The stiff arm retracted .
"Pleasure," the constable said . "You look chilled, sir," he said. "A nice warm fire is what you want." He winked. "A nip from the old bottle wouldn't be a bad idea either, would it?"
"Yes, yes, that would be the ticket."
"Well, if you have everything in hand, I'll say goodnight to you."
"Thank you very much."
"At your service, sir-always," the constable said, saluting.
The stiff arm flew up, returning the salute.
"Good-night again, sir."
"Good-night, Constable."
When the man had gone, the doctor raised the canvas. Igor was there, still with a firm grip on the stiff arm.
"Good work!" the doctor said.
"I like to keep a hand in," Igor said modestly .
The journey continued . When the doctor and Igor reached the castle, they lifted the coffin from the cart and carried it inside, then took it down to the laboratory . There, they removed the body from the wooden box and placed in on an operating table .
"Magnificent," Dr . Frankenstein said, stepping back and viewing the body. "What an awesome sight!"
"He's a big kid, all right," Igor agreed .
"With such a specimen, all we need now is an equally magnificent brain . "
"I'm using mine," Igor said, backing away .
"No-not you . Recently, according to the obits, there occurred the death of Dr . H . Delbruck. His brain is now on deposit in the Brain Depository . " He put a hand on Igor's hump. "I want that brain."
"This H. Delbruck, was he any good?" Igor asked.
"Was he any good? He was the finest natural philosopher, internal diagnostician, and chemical therapist of this century."
"How did he die?"
"V.D.," the doctor replied sadly.
"Bad break."
"But I'm sure his brain is still capable of functioning," the doctor said. "You know what to do-hurry!"
Igor started to leave.
But Dr. Frankenstein grabbed hold of one of his hands, halting him. "Be very careful with that brain!"
Igor indicated the hand that the doctor was gripping. "You can put your trust in that hand," he told him.
Dr. Frankenstein released him. "Fly!" Igor darted away. As he did, the hand that the doctor had been holding struck a row of beakers that were sitting on a table and sent them crashing to the floor.
Igor stopped and looked down at the scatter of shattered glass, then turned his eyes to the offending hand . He was silent and thoughtful for a second . Then, smiling once more he raised the other hand. "This one, I meant," he said.
"Git!" the doctor commanded.
Igor got.
When he had gone, the doctor began preparing for the operation. First on the schedule was an injection. Syringe in hand, Dr. Frankenstein approached the body -then hesitated.
"Dare I bring such a monstrous creature back to life?" he asked himself, speaking aloud. "What havoc might I wreak upon this unsuspecting world?" For another moment, his countenance showed the indecision, then it passed. "Well, we'll take a chance," the doctor said.
Raising the dead man's arm, he gave him the shot.
As the body was getting its shot, Igor was arriving at the special section of the village hospital that was used for the storing of brains for future transplants. He read the wording on the frosted glass door:
Brain Depository
After 5:00 P.M.
Slip Brains Through
Slot in Door
Igor reached under his cape and came up with a hairpin . Stooping, he inserted it into the lock in the door and twisted it expertly . There was a click. Igor straightened, put the hairpin back into his pocket, then opened the door and
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