Explore "The Crowned Skull" by Fergus Hume on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Forde stooped to pick up the red skull with mixed feelings. He wondered how it had come into possession of the idiot, and what strange thought in the madman's brains led him to believe that Polwin could be cursed in connection with so weird an object. But as he touched the Death's Head Morgan flung himself forward, and snatching it from him with a guttural cry, bounded on to a moderately high rock near the cabin with the leap of a cat, and sat there nursing the uncanny relic of humanity with a cunning and dangerous expression. Forde, taken by surprise, stared motionless.
'Ah,' said Mrs. Carney, tottering forward and mumbling as usual, 'he's fond of that, is Morgan: it's like a doll to a lass.'