THE MISSING LINK

BY

EDWARD DYSON1922

CHAPTER I. 

DR. CRIPS'S HEALING MIXTURE. 

HIS Christian name was Nicholas but his familiars called him Nickie theKid. The title did not imply that Nicholas possessed the artless gaiety, the nimbleness, or any of the simple virtues of the young of the commongoat. Kid was short for "kidder, " a term that as gone out recently infavour of "smoodger, " and which implies a quality of suave andingratiating cunning backed by ulterior motives. 

The familiars of Mr. Nicholas Crips were a limited circle, and all"beats, " that is to say, gentlemen sitting on the rail dividing honesttoil from open crime. They were not workers, neither were they thieves, excepting in very special circumstances, when the opportunity madehonesty almost an impertinence. The sobriquet coming from such a sourceacquires peculiar significance. The god-fathers of Nickie the Kid wereall experts, and obtained bed and board mainly by exercising the art ofdissimulation. To stand out conspicuously as a specialist in such companyone needed to possess very bright and peculiar qualities. 

Mr. Nicholas Crips was blonde, bony man perhaps five feet nine in height, but looking taller because of the spareness of his limbs. This sparenesswas not cultivated, as Nickie the Kid was partial to creature comforts, but was of great assistance to him in a profession in which it was oftennecessary to profess chronic sickness and touching physical decrepitude. Mr Crips despised whiskers, but, as shaving was an extravagantindulgence, his slightly cadaverous countenance was often littered with acrisp, pale stubble, not unlike dry grass. 

To-day Nickie wore a suit of black cloth. It had once been a veryimposing suit, and had adorned a great person, but having fallen on evildays, was dusty and rusty, while the knees of Mr. Crips poked familiarlythrough a long slit in each leg of the stained trousers. The frock coatwent badly with the damaged tan boots and the moth-eaten rag cap Nicholaswas wearing. 

Mr. Crips was making back-door call, and telling housewives what thedoctors at the hospital had said about his peculiar ailment which, itappears, was an interesting heart weakness. 

"Above all, I must be careful never to over-exert myself, madam--thoseare the doctor's orders, " said Nickie, in his sad, calm way. "Thesmallest excitement, the slightest strain, and my life goes out likethat. " Nickie puffed an imaginary candle with dramatic significance. 

This was the preliminary to a mild appeal for creature and medicalcomforts, and it had two objects--to open the soul to compassion, and barall considerations of manual labour. 

Our hero's manner with women was a gentle manly deference; his beggingshowed no trace of servility, but he was always polite. He acceptedfailure with good grace, and did not resent scorn, abuse, or evenviolence from intended victims. He was rarely combative. Fighting was nothis special gift; he met misfortune with patient passivity Resistance hefound a mistake. But for all this a certain sense of superiority was, never wanting in Nickie the Kid; the shabbiest clothes, a deplorable hat, fragmentary boots, shirtlessness, the most distressing situations allfailed to wholly eliminate a touch of impudent dignity, a trace of rakishself-satisfaction which as a rule escaped the attention of his clients;but, here and there, a student of human nature found it delightfullywhimsical. Sometimes it appeared that this spice of egotism sprang from ablackguardly sense of humour that found joy in the abounding weaknessesand simplicity of the people he imposed upon, but, on the other hand, itwould be sufficient to show that Mr. Crips was inspired only with grossselfishness or to comprehend that the stability of society depends uponfair dealing and faithful labour. 

Nevertheless there were occasions when Nickie the Kid deliberatelyundertook to earn his daily bread. For a week he served as waiter in asix penny restaurant. He had been a "super" in drama and a practicalcrocodile in pantomime and was long in the employ of a fashionableundertaker as second in command on the hearse. In this latter billet hehad to keep his hair dyed a presentable black, but otherwise the dutieswere light, and Nickie might still have been useful mute, only that hehad the misfortune to get drunk at the funeral of an eminent politicianand behaved himself in a way obnoxious to the other mourners. 

Some credit must be given to Crips for the above in view of the fact thathe had long, since discovered how unnecessary work was to a man free ofprejudices and unhampered with conscience. Every man should be master ofhis own conscience, and the exactions of conscience should be subordinateto the needs of the body. That was a large part of Nickie's philosophy, and he had acted up to it with marked success, but this morninghousewives were incredulous and tough, and our hero was faring badly. 

He entered the yard of Ebonwell, the chemist, and was about to knock, when his eye fell upon a well-worn Gladstone bag full of small bottles. In the course of long experience as a beat, Nickie had learned the valueof prompt action. He gently snapped up the bag, and jauntily to the gate. Here he collided with a female entering in a hurry. 

"Was yeh wantin' anythin', mister?" said the woman suspiciously. 

"Good morning, madam, " said Nickie, with unction. "Can I tune your pianothis morning?" His manner was most courteous, he smiled kindly, but hedid not invite attention to the bag. 

"No yeh can't, " snapped the woman, "an' a good reason why--coz we ain'tgot a pianner to toon. "

"A pity, " said Nickie, suavely, "a pity, madam. No home should be withoutthe refining influence of good music. "

The woman passed in as Nickie passed out, and the latter looked back overthe gate, and said, "Good morning, lady, " with profound respect. 

Nickie must have forgotten all about his weak heart; the dash he made outof that right-of-way, across the street, down a second right-of-way, andinto a public garden, would not have discredited a trained pedestrian. Anhour later Mr. Crips was seated in a secluded spot on the river bank, taking stock. He possessed one very second-hand black bag and four dozenfour-ounce bottles. The Kid's intention in the first place had been todispose of the loot at the nearest marine store, but Nickie was a man ofideas, and one had come to him there in his loneliness. He hid his bag ofbottles, and wandered into the city. After several misses he succeeded inbegging sixpence to buy cough drops for his influenza. 

He paid threepence for the cough drops at a convenient hotel, and tookthem in bulk. With his change he purchased threepence worth of smallcorks. Back at the Yarra Nickie the Kid dissolved one of three gingernutshe had taken from the bar lunch in a two pound jam tin of river water, and started to fill his bottles. He filled one dozen. 

Having explained to a small knot of brother professionals that he neededchange of air and scenery, Nickie the Kid started out of town thatafternoon. We next discover him seated under a spreading gum in apleasant sweep of sunny landscape at Tarra, with his trousers in hishands, carefully and systematically repairing and renovating the same. The frock coat had been "restored, " the rag cap was abandoned in favourof a limp bell-topper, contributed by the family of a benevolentclergyman, and the tan boots were artistically blacked with stove polish. Nickie the Kid warbled at his work with the innocent gaiety of a bird. 

It was not yet sundown, and Nicholas Crips was clothed, and stood withhis black Gladstone in his right hand, prepared for the campaign. He hadhad a clean shave, and his face had a sort of calm dignity touched withbenevolence. He turned round, examining himself, and the coat-tailsfloated gracefully in the breeze. 

"Eminently satisfactory, " said Mr. Crips. "And now for business. " Hecleared his throat, as if about to commence an oration, and set off at asmart pace towards the farm-house whose chimneys peeped over the hill. 

A dog barked surlily as Nickie passed up the garden walk, but Nickie knewthe character and quality of dogs, no beat better, and he recognised thisone as harmless to man. A woman came to the door, wiping her fat, redarms on a canvas apron. 

"A very good day to you, madam, " said Mr. Crips, lifting his belltopperwith some grace, and bowing slightly. "I have taken the liberty ofcalling upon you to bring under your attention my celebratedmedicine--Dr. Crips's Healing Mixture, for coughs, colds, consumptionindigestion, biliousness and all bronchial complaints. "

He took a bottle from his bag and shook it invitingly, his voice wasrespectful and very persuasive, but by no means subservient. Nickie'svoice was his most valuable possession; it had a note so winning, soappealing, that it was only with strong effort that ordinary people couldresist it. 

"No, " said the woman, "we ain't got any o' them complaints. "

"Headache, earache, toothache, lumbago, Bright's disease?" said Nickie, suggestively. 

"No. " The woman shook her head. "We ain't got nothin' in the 'ouse butrhoomertism in me ole man's back. He's bin laid up three weeks with it. "

"Dr. Crips's Rheumatic Balm!" exclaimed Nickie, with decision, restoringthe first bottle to the bag, and producing another of exactly the samemixture. "Cures rheumatism in two hours. Gives instant relief in cases ofneuralgia and sciatica. A little to be rubbed on the affected parts nightand morning. "

The woman took the bottle, examined it closely, shook it up, and said, "It looks good. "

"It's invaluable, madam, " replied Nickie, with quiet conviction. "Nofamily should be without it. Two shillings, if you please. "

The woman took a bottle, and when leaving, Nickie the Kid turned andsaid, "I shall be back this way in a week, and shall do myself the honourof calling on you for a testimonial, if I may?"

At the next farm-house Nickie had a man to deal with. The man began bywanting to throw Dr. Crips over the fence, and ended by buying a bottleof his Infallible Hair Restorer, and paying him half-a-crown forprofessional advice in the case of a brown cow afflicted with mumps. 

Nickie the Kid had put in the busiest day of his varied career, and herehe rested from his labours. With six and six in his pocket he couldafford luxuries. That night he slept in a bed at the Harrow Hotel, andnext morning breakfasted on grilled bacon and boiled eggs. Beforeleaving, he sold the publican two bottles of the world-famous HealingMixture as a pick-me-up. 

On the second day the doctor set out to cover as much ground as possible. He was astute enough to recognise the wisdom of moving on before hiscustomers had time to compare notes. Before noon, he sold six bottles ofthe Healing Mixture for influenza, two bottles of the Rheumatic Balm, andone bottle of the same as a certain cure for a peculiar disorder in pigs. 

Nickie was going along the main road, heading north, branching off to thefarm-houses by the way to sell his cure-all. He sold one guilelesshousewife a bottle, assuring her that it would convert brass spoons intoreal silver. A little mercury in a rag helped this trifling deception. Onthe third day Nickie had to buy some gingernuts to make a fresh supply ofthe Healing Mixture, and bottles were running short. He saw fortunestaring him in the face. 

It was about eleven, and Mr. Crips was trudging contentedly along, theroad, swinging his bag and singing his tender lay, at peace with theworld, and buoyed with great hopes, when a trap drove up and a voice outof the accompanying dust said:--

"That's 'im. That's the bloke!" A man jumped down and advanced to Nickie, and laid hands on him. 

"You're that doctor bloke what's selling the Rheumatic Balm, ain't yeh?"he asked. 

Nickie said nothing. Retribution had overtaken him. He knew that. Hisfair dreams fell from him, he sighed deeply, and philosophically, as washis wont, abandoned himself to the inevitable. 

There were two young men in the trap. They hoisted Nickie to the seatbehind, and drove on. No explanation was offered, and Mr Crips expectednone. They would come, he imagined, along with the familiar penalties. One of the young men did remark, with cheerful enthusiasm: "You're in ferit all right, blokie, " but Nickie the Kid only sighed. 

Crips recognised the farm-house they drove to as that of the farmer withrheumatism in the back, his first customer. One young man ran in with thenews, and presently reappeared in company with a large, elderly, energetic man, who was crying, excitedly: "Where is he? Bring him to me!"

This large man dashed at Nickie the Kid, and fell on him bodily. He wasfollowed by the housewife who purchased the Rheumatic Balm, and she alsofell upon Nickie, who put up a short prayer. But to the doctor's immensesurprise he found presently that he was not being assaulted, but hugged, that it was not curses, but blessings the old couple were showering uponhis head. 

"Lor love yeh, I'll never forget yeh fer this, " cried the farmer. 

"Come inside an' have a bit to eat, " exclaimed his wife. 

The pair literally dragged Nickie into the house and dumped him down at aloaded table. He was waited upon by a rather nice-looking girl of twenty. 

"This is him, Millie, " said the farmer, with enthusiasm. "This is Dr. Crips what cured yer old dad. Gord bless you, sir. "

The girl shook Nickie by the hand, and smiled on him sweetly, and saidshe could never forget the man that cured her dear pa, and all Nickie'shappiness and his great content came back to him like refreshing waters. Dr. Crips stood up straight, he shook hands enthusiastically with farmerDickson. 

"So the Rheumatic Balm has set you up again?" he said, heartily. 

"Hasn't it, by gum! Look at this. " The farmer capered about the room. "Every bit o' pain's gone. I'll buy every drop of that balm you've got. That's why I had you brought back. But sit down, and eat, man--eat!"

They simply squandered hospitality on Nickie the Kid that night; they hadneighbours in to see him; they had music, and Dr. Crips sang, and danced, and drank, and made love to Miss Dickson out under the elderberries. Outunder the elderberries, for the edification of Millie Dickson, NicholasCrips was a medical man of high attainments, but the victim ofextraordinary vicissitudes. It was very touching, most romantic. Nickielied with great splendour. He displayed no little aptitude in thecharacter of Don Juan too. Miss Dickson thought him a perfect dear. 

Returning to the house for supper, Nickie and the ingenuous Millieloitered by the open kitchen window, and Nickie saw and heard things ofno little interest to him professionally. Farmer Dickson and threeneighbours were comparing bottles of Dr. Crip's Celebrated HealingMixture. 

"Anyhow, " said one, "I'll swear his nibs sold me this ez a cure fer pipin chickens. "

"And he told me this was a dead sure cure fer corns 'n' ingrowin'toe-nail, " ejaculated another. 

"I bought this bottle fer me diabetes, " explained Coleman. "He said it udroot out diabetes in nine hours. "

Farmer Dickson shook his bottle, and looked at it very dubiously. "Itseems t' me it's all the same mixture, " he said. "It looks like it, tastes like, 'n' it smells like. Now I come t' think iv it, I ain't toosure 'bout these blanky rheumatics o' mine. " He reached down his back andrubbed himself anxiously. 

"I thought my diabetes was a-movin', but they're all back at me agin, "said Coleman. 

"The chicken died what I gave the mixture to, " explained Anderson. 

Dickson scowled and felt himself, for as far as he could reach up anddown his spine. "I'm pretty certain the rheumatics 're comin' back, " hemurmured. "Wow!" he gasped, as a bad twinge took him. "It is back!"

"Tell yeh what, " Anderson remarked plaintively, "we've been done. "

"He's a blanky fraud!"

"A robber!"

"Let's look him up, 'n' 'ave a word or two. "

The farmers seized their sticks. They moved towards the door, but alreadyNickie had begged to be excused, and passed into the night. The stillnessand mystery of the bush enveloped him. 

Next day the neighbours compared notes and bottles, and found that themedicine for influenza, consumption, liver disease, indigestion and coldfeet, the embrocation for rheumatism, sprains, corns, bruises andheadaches, the cure for pigs, the wash for silvering spoons, and thehair-restorer were all the same mixture. Then a great popular demand forDr. Crips set in at Tarra, but by this time Nickie the Kid was back intown, amazing his friends with his lavish hospitality in threepenny bars. 

CHAPTER II. 

A FAMILY MATTER. 

EVEN Nickie's intimates of the wharves and the river banks knew nothingof his ancestors or relations. Nickie was naturally reticent about hisown business; On the point of family connections he was dumb. It wasassumed that he had had a father and mother at some stage of his career, but the evolution of Nickie the Kid from a schoolboy, with shiningmorning face, to a homeless rapscallion, living on his impudence, wasnever dwelt upon by our hero, which is a great pity, as the process ofdegeneration must have been highly interesting. 

Certainly, Nickie did not regret his respectable past, if he were everrespectable, and it is equally certain that he had no craving for highthings in the way of tall hats and two-storey houses. He appreciated thevalue of money, since it enabled him to gratify his tastes, but it mustbe admitted his tastes were scandalous in the main. 

However, at Banklands Nickie solicited work, laborious and painful work. Moreover, he went to the job of his own free will, when sober and in hisright mind. This seemed to imply an awakening of conscience, a dawningsense of his utter uselessness to the body politic, and a desire tofigure as a useful member of society. On the other hand, it may have beena symptom of brain-softening. But it happened to be neither; it was infact a means to a wicked end. On the fading end of a superior suburb, where the streets of fine villas and mansions thinned off and dwindled, and were lost among the gum trees of the original wilderness, Nickiefound his billet. 

The suburb was coming ahead. The motor-car had made it easy andaccessible to the rich. Splendid dwellings were going up all over theplace, the road makers were exceedingly busy, and hammers of thestone-knappers rattled an incessant fusillade. 

Nickie the Kid came to Banklands one pleasant summer day, watched thebusy people with a desultory sort of interest, and moralised withinhimself. 

"Do these people expect to live a thousand years?" mused Mr. Crips, "thatthey build such solid houses? Or do they regard them as monuments? Lookat that palace, and I sleep well on a potato sack under four boards!"

Nickie was examining a fine, white house, ornate as a wedding cake, withplentiful cement, and balconies as frivolous as those of a Chinesepagoda. It stood within capacious grounds, and proclaimed aloud the factthat its proprietor was a rich man, ostentatious of his riches. 

"I expect there's a matter of thirty rooms in that house, " mused NicholasCrips, "and after all, a man can get just as drunk in a threepenny bar. "

Nickie put in a couple of days skirmishing at Banklands, and fared well, but as there was no hotel in the suburb Nicholas did not contemplatemaking a lengthy stay. Something he saw on the second afternoon inducedhim to change his mind, and threw him into a state of profound reflectionlasting for nearly an hour; then he sauntered over to the man working onthe pile of stones before the gates of the cemented mansion, and seatinghimself on the broken metal, entered into conversation with the two-inchmason wielding the hammer. 

"Pretty hard work this, " ventured Nicholas. 

"Blanky hard, " assented the stonebreaker. 

"Did you ever try the softening influence of beer?" asked Nickie, drawinga bottle from his pocket. 

"Well, I won't make yeh force it on me, " said the stonebreaker. 

They divided the liquor like brothers dear, and the stonebreakerdeveloped a sudden affection for Nicholas Crips, who after twenty minutescasual conversation, introduced his plea. 

"Must be splendid exercise for the liver, stoneknapping, " he said. "I'vebeen troubled with liver complaint lately. Living too high. Could yougive a man a job?"

"Well, " said the breaker, "I got a sorter contrac' t' break so manyyards. If you'll do it at bob a yard you can get gain' on the other endiv th' 'eap. "

The price was far below current rates for cutting metal, but Nickie wasnot penurious and grasping. He threw off his tattered coat, and, drapedin fragments of a shirt, in a pair of trousers, half of which flutteredin the breeze, and boots that looked like a collection of fragments, heset to work. 

Certainly Nicholas Crips did not show any disposition to work himself todeath. After an hour his employer told him he wasn't likely to earnenough to keep a rag-gatherer in toilet soap, but Nickie explained againthat he was merely exercising his liver, and had no intention of makingan independence as a breaker of road metal. 

Nickie's heap was right opposite the great, fanciful iron gates of thecemented residence. He could see the well-kept garden and the showy housefrom where he worked, and he frequently ceased his half hearted rappingat the tough stone to watch children playing on the lawn. He wasparticularly interested in a tall, `severe-looking, fair-haired woman, who appeared on the balcony for a moment. 

Mr. Crips had been at work for about three hours, during which time hehad perspired a good deal and gathered much dust, for Nickie washabitually easy going, and his task, although pursued with no diligence, had "taken it out of him" to some extent. He was certainly a deplorablescarecrow. A fine, polished carriage, with rubber tyres, drawn by asplendid pair of chestnuts, was driven down the side drove by a livenedmenial. It drew up near the centre gates, and Nickie leaned on his hammerand waited. 

The tall, dignified lady, accompanied by a short, important man inimmaculate black, came along the path, and approached the open door ofthe vehicle. Nickie advanced carelessly, and intercepted them. He bowedgrotesquely. 

"Good day, Billy, " he said, familiarly. He lifted his hat pointedly tothe lady. "'Ow's yerself Jinny?" he asked. 

The lady and gentleman stared at him in utmost astonishment for a moment, then consternation seized them, and they made a dive for the vehicle. Nickie followed to the door. 

"So long, if yer mus' be goin', Willyum, " he said, pleasantly. "So long, Jinny. How's the old man's fish business?"

"Drive on!" gasped the gentleman. He had the scared expression of one whohad seen a spectre. 

The liveried menial whipped up, and the carriage was swept away. Nickiereturned to his heap, and for fully two minutes Stub McGuire, hisemployer, gazed at him in speechless, open-mouthed amazement. 

"Well, of all the blarsted cheeks!" gasped McGuire, when speech came tohim. 

"Don't mention it, " said Nickie. 

"Don't mention it!" yelled Stub. "No, iv course not, but what price hisnibs in the noble belltopper mentionin' it t' th' Johns, an' gettin' youseven days fer disgustin' behaviour?"

Nickie smiled inscrutably, and continued his work. When the carriagereturned, he made an adroit movement, and courteously opened the door. 

"'Low me, Jinny, my dear, " he said, offering his grimy hand. 

The lady stepped down, and passed him disdainfully. The gentleman brushedhim aside. 

"'Ope yeh 'ad er pleasant ride in yer cart, Billy?" said Nicholas. 

He followed them to the gate, and called through the bars. 

"Very sorry, Jinny, but I carn't haccept yer pressin' invitation terdinner, havin' er previous engagement. "

He returned to his work again, smiling sweetly. He seemed to enjoy StubMcGuire's horror. 

"'Ere, 'ere, " said McGuire, "off this job you go if you don't know betterthan to insult people that way. You'll be gettin' me inter mischiff. "

"Not at all, " said Nickie, "not at all. Surely a man may offer ordinarycivilities to his friends. Bless my soul, you wouldn't have me cut oldBilly in the streets, would you? If I didn't speak to Jinny she'd think Iwas angry with her, and cry her eyes out. She has a tender heart, poorgirl. She is a sensitive soul, and craves for social distinction. Shelooks to me to secure them a footing in exclusive circles, Mr. McGuire. "

"I don't know what y're talkin' about, " Stub grumbled, "but that's enoughof it, see?"

Nickie took no notice of his employer's admonitions, however, and when aclergyman drove up in a buggy an hour later, our hero intercepted him atthe gate. 

"Good afternoon, sir, " he said. "Would you mind tellin' Willyum insidethere how Nickie sends him his compliments, and 'opes Jinny's quitewell. "

"My good fellow, you must not be insolent, " ejaculated the minister. 

"They won't take it as hinsolence, " Nicholas explained. "They've er verytouchin' regard fer me. Tell them. I arsked after 'em, won't yer?"

Even Stub McGuire noticed that Nickie, whose speech was usuallyexcellent, adopted the vulgar tongue in addressing the man he calledBilly, or any of his friends or relations. 

Next day, Nickie inveigled three children, who were playing on the lawn, and entertained them at the gate with frivolous conversation for nearlyten minutes, when the state of affairs was discovered by their dignifiedmamma, who sent a maid flying to the rescue. Nickie took off his hat tothe maid. 

"Tell Willyum, " he said, "that bein' 'andy, I'll drop in ter lunch t'day, but Jinny's not on no account t' put up a big spread fer me. I'lljist take what's goin'. "

He finished these remarks at the top of his voice, the girl beinghalf-way back to the house. 

When the important man in immaculate black came out a little later, Nickie saluted him gravely, as between gentlemen, but without deference. 

"'Ow's it, Billy?" he said. "You might drop in an' see me this evenin'. I'm livin' under th' blackberry hedge back o' your stables. "

The stout man passed in silence, and with a great show of dignity. Nickiehad a busy afternoon. Evidently it was the dignified lady's "day. " Quitea crowd of people drove up to the gates during the afternoon, and Nickieentrusted each with an affectionate and familiar message to Jinny. Allwere horrified at the insolence of the disgusting man, and one youngfellow kicked Mr. Crips, but our' hero did not seem to mind. He merelywarned his assailant that he would issue a County Court writ for anydamages done to his trousers. 

On the following morning at about 11 o'clock Nickie entered the grounds, his rags fluttering in the breeze, marched to the door and rang the bell. To the Napoleonic man-servant who opened to him, he gravely presented atomato can half-full of water, and said:

"Will yer please arsk Bill or Jinny if they'll be so good as to bile mybilly at the drorin'-room fire. Tell 'em it's Nicholas Crips what makesthe request. No, thanks, I won't come in, I'm afraid my motor car mightbolt. "

The Napoleonic man-servant threw Nickie off the verandah, and threw hisbilly after him, but this did not deter Nicholas from an attempt to enterinto familiar conversation bearing on family matters, when he found thedignified lady in a summer house. 

The lady glared at him in stony horror. "How dare you?" she ejaculated. "How dare you?"

"Why, what's wrong, Jinny, old girl. " asked Crips innocently, assuming alounging attitude in the doorway. "You find the togs I'm wearin' a trifletoo negligee, so to speak. They're quite the thing in our set. "

"Let me pass!" ejaculated the lady with crushing hauteur. 

Nickie was not impressed. He smiled, and continued dreamily: "My word, things have moved with you, Jinny. You're gone up like er rocket in erreg'lar blaze iv glory, but I can still see yeh in the old shop days. Youblazed then too, old girl. It wasn't with di'monds, 'twas fish scales, but you blazed. You could alwiz put on dog. You sold flathead, Jinny, butI give the devil his due--you did it like a duchess. "

At this point the Napoleonic footman intervened again. He took Nickie byhis rags and the nape of his neck, and running him tip-toe out of thegarden, tumbled him headlong on the grass-grown roadside. Nickie rejoinedStub McGuire quite unconcerned. 

"That's a new society game, my friend, " he said. "The flunkey scored tenpoints. "

A few hours later the proprietor of the cement mansion came to his gate, and beckoned Nicholas Crips off the heap. Nickie the Kid responded withalacrity, and Stub McGuire gazed in cow-like wonder while the twodiscussed matters in the gateway. 

Nickie was calling him "Bill, " "Billy, " and "Willyum, " indiscriminately. Stub nearly fainted when he saw the gentleman draw a bank-note from hispocket, and hand it to Nicholas Crips. Nickie lifted his deplorable hat, and said:

"So long, Bill. I'm sorry I can't come an' stay a month. Some other time, perhaps. "

The gentleman went in, and slammed the gate behind him. Nickie returnedto the heap, and picked up his coat and donned it. 

"I'm handing in my resignation, Mr. McGuire, " he said. "You are welcometo my earnings, as I intend to live on my means--temporary at least. " Heheld up the note. 

"A tenner!" gasped McGuire. 

"A tenner!" replied Nicholas, "presented by the kind gentleman oncondition that I emigrate from this suburb and absent myself permanently. The worst thing about rich relations, Stub, is that they want wholesuburbs to themselves; the best is that you can make them pay for theprivilege of exclusiveness. "

CHAPTER III. 

THE MASK BALL. 

NICKIE the Kid only observed his agreements and kept honourable promisesso long as some material advantage flowed from his complaisance. Within amonth he was again haunting the vicinity of the white mansion. One nighthe leaned against the fence and watched a procession of guests alightingfrom their vehicles. Splendid motors dashed up, and loads ofgaily-dressed ladies and gentlemen quaintly caparisoned were dischargedat the great iron gates, and went trooping up the path to the flaringwhite residence, blazing like a crystal palace in a fairy tale. 

Nickie was not exactly envious, but looking through the iron railing atthe gay array of lanterns in the vast garden, and the glowing mansion, and hearing the hubbub of cheerful voices and the laughter, he had adawning sense that respectability, especially well-to-do respectability, had its compensations after all. 

He walked to the gate for a better view, and discovered a strange objectlying on the path. It was a false nose, a large, red, boosy nose, with, alength of elastic to hold it in its place. One of the guests had droppedit. Nickie put it on in a waggish humour, and stood moralising as threepretty Spanish dancers, in charge of a toreador, passed in. 

Nickie loved gaiety, waster and rapscallion as he was--sunshine, colour, flowers, beautiful women, life, music and laughter shook passions loosewithin him. Another little kink in his brain might have made a poet ofhim, just as the smallest turn of chance might have made a deadbeat ofalmost any poet of parts. 

Mr. Crips actually sighed over that vision of fair women, and longed tobe that happy toreador. 

 "Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we, too, into the dust descend: Dust unto dust, and under dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End. "

The quotation had just escaped our hero lips when a young fellow garbedas Romeo, alighting from a hansom, dashed into him. 

"By Jove, that was dooced awkward of me--yes, I beg your pardon, I'msure. Should have looked where I was going--what? said Romeo. 

"Not at all, " answered Nickie politely. "My fault in blocking the path. My fault, entirely. "

"By Jo-o-ve!" gasped Romeo; "that's a stunnin' make-up, old chap--what?Nevah saw a bettah, by gad. "

"Make-up?" said Nicholas. Mr. Crips had for gotten his false nose. 

"Ya-as, " said Romeo. "Your character, you know. A fellah 'd think you'djust come from sleeping in a rubbish bin. Yes. Best Weary Willie I'veseen. But aren't you coming in, dear boy? You're a cart for Dolly's prizefor best-sustained character, eh?"

"Presently--presently. " said Nicholas, smitten with a sudden idea. "Waiting for a friend, you know. "

Romeo went up the garden path, and Nickie the Kid retired under theshadow of the hedge to allow his thoughts to revolve. Romeo's words hadsuggested possibilities. Mr. Crips rarely wasted time making up his mind. Three minutes later he was sauntering jauntily up the garden path on theheels of a laughing Red Indian set. 

It was a fancy dress ball. All the guests were masked or otherwisedisguised. Nickie had never encountered a softer thing. He determined tomake a night of it at the expense of the host of "White-cliff. " To avoidunpleasantness at the door, Nickie boldly climbed up the trellis of avine, and entered the noisy crowded ballroom through an open window, rolling head over heels among the guests. 

His appearance provoked a shout of laughter. This was the proper way fora tramp to enter such a house. It was accepted as a quaint effort ofhumour. Weary Willie was applauded, and his appearance, when he rose tohis feet, occasioned fresh merriment. 

The "make-up" of Mr. Crips was certainly very effective, but with theexception of the false nose it was nothing but his ordinary habit. Hewore a pair of old grey trousers, lashed up with one brace, and beltedwith a strip of red material; between the fringed legs of this garmentand his broken canvas shoes the tops of socks, one white, the otherplaid, were plainly visible. The fact that they were only tops, and notwhole socks, was not to be missed, as they had worked up, and an inch ofbare ankle protruded. Nickie's coat was an old black Beaufort, from whichtwo buttons' hung on grey threads, which was split half-way up the back, and from below the tails of which fluttered strips of torn lining. Hewore no vest, and had on a woman's faded pink print blouse as a shirt. Hehad a linen collar that had long since lost all claims to whiteness andall pretence of dignity, and his hat was a small round boxer, withscarcely any rim. On one of the buttons of his Beaufort hung a strip ofordinary sugar bag, on which he had written with a stub of pencil theword "Program. "

Mr. Nicholas Crips looked the part to the life. He had not shaved for aweek, and his lank hair was reaching out in all directions from under hisridiculous hat, and from various strands dangled fragments of his lastcouch under the boat shed. Nickie had nothing of the painted, unconvincing theatrical accessories of the usual fancy dress tramp; helooked real, and his success was instantaneous and complete. 

I have endeavoured to show that Mr. Crips was not a diffident man; he didnot distress himself with scruples; fear of failure in an enterprise ofthis kind never worried him. He walked across the grand ball-room, swaggering in his rags, lifted his hat to a Watteau shepherdess who waslaughing at him from a settee in a recess, and said:

"Would yer darnce with er poor man, kind lydie?"

Again the crowd laughed. A tall Mary Queen of Scots peered at Nickiethrough her lorgnette, and said. 

"How very whimsical!" The little shepherdess was a merry spirit, andbowed willingly. Nickie wrote "Milk Made" on his absurd programme, andthe quaintly assorted pair joined in the waltz. How, where and whenNickie the Kid had learnt to dance Heaven knows, but he waltzed well, andafter that he danced with Mary Stuart in a set. 

He was particularly attracted by Mary Stuart. She was a fine woman andthe rakish Nicholas had a discriminating eye where the sex was concerned. Mary had a bold eye too, and a breezy manner. She took great joy in thetramp. 

A feature of Nickie's very humorous and original impersonation of theYarra-banker was his waggish begging. When he had danced, before leavinghis partner, he assumed a most lugubrious manner, and said:

"Dear lydie, would you kindly assist a pore decayed gent, what's got abedridden wife an' nine starvin' children, all twins? Just a copper, lydie. The bailiffs is in, lydie, an' if I don't take 'orne nine-pencefor the rent they'll seize ther kerosene case, an' ther flour-sack, andther rest iv ther drorin-room furniture, kind lydie. "

A gay vivandiere led Nickie to a portly Henry VIII. "Sire, " she said, "this poor man claims king's bounty for his three sets of triplets. Ihumbly commend him to your majesty. "

"Just a trifle to assist a poor man, kind gent, " whined Nickie the Kid. "Not a morsel iv turkey's passed me lips for seven days. Just a fewpence, sir, to buy champagne fer me widders and orphans. I don't careabout meself, kind sir. "

King Henry promptly dropped half-a-crown into Nickie's hat. Two, or threelaughing guests standing about contributed silver. There was animpression in the ballroom that the sum of the quaint tramp's collectionwould go to a charity. None but Nickie himself knew the charitable objectto which the money was to be devoted. 

Nickie danced with all sorts and conditions of women. Romeo slapped himon the back. 

"Splendid, deah boy!" he said. "We been thrown together, you know. Ran'into you at the gate--what? By gad, you're doin it well. But I say, whothe devil are you?"

"I'm Willie' the Waster, kind young gentleman, and I'm residin' under No. 3 wharf, fifth plank from the corner. Would yer give er trifle towards metime-payment furniture, please, sir. "

Romeo contributed a shilling. "You're a sport, " he said. "They're all onto you. Dolly herself's delighted. Yes, you're right as rain for theprize, but you might put me on--what?"

"I'm feather-legged Ned, with ther consumptive corf, " said Nickie. "Wouldyou please give me a shillin' t' pay fer me medicine?"

"No, dash me if I do!" said Romeo, and he went off laughing. 

Nickie took champagne with Sir Peter Teazie, Rip Van Winkle, Slender, andHenry VIII. , and under the influence of the good wine became moreaudacious. He passed the hat with a characteristic complaint wherever afew guests were assembled, and in view of the vast amusement he wasgiving was allowed any license in reason. The offerings of the charitablehe deposited in the tail pocket of his coat, and presently the weightdragged at him with a grateful pressure, and the silver clanked as hewalked. Fortune was not actually staring him in the face, but it washanging on behind. 

By one o'clock in the morning Nickie was carrying round a champagnebottle in his left hand, from which he refreshed himself, and he was nolonger able to walk a chalk line as wide as a tram with an certainty, andhad got into the way of clinging to the curtains and hangings; but thiswas all accepted as part of an excellent piece of caricature, and earnedour hero some applause. 

Just before supper a lady, dressed as Portia, came forward, and pinned aneat design of gold laurel leaves and emeralds on the breast of Mr. Nicholas Crips. It was the prize for the best sustained character, whichthe host had offered his guests in a frivolous mood. Nickie bowed inacknowledgment of applause, and then, with the bottle in one hand, andhis hat in the other, he appealed to Portia. 

"Could you spare a copper, kind lydie, to assist a poor orphan what'slaid up with lumbago in the feet. I've bin bed-ridden fer ten years, lydie, and I lost both me legs in th' battle of Waterloo. On'y a pennyfor the battered 'ero good, kind lydie. "

At supper Nickie declined to unmask. He would not remove his preposterousfalse nose. He also excited doubts and misgivings by the depth of histhirst and his almost miraculous capacity for food. After supper he wassimply impossible. 

Nicholas Crips in his sober moments was quiet and unpretentious in hisrascalities, his temperament was naturally mild; but under the influenceof strong drink he always developed tremendous belief in his ownmagnificence, strutted about and fondly fancied himself a king. He waswholly and completely drunk when he charged into the ballroom at two inthe morning, brandishing a full bottle, and singing uproariously. Hestaggered into the middle of the dancers, whirling his magnum. 

"Room" he cried. "Room, there, for King Solomon in all his glory" Hewhirled his bottle again, and the dancers broke before him. A Sir TobyBelch got the thick end of the bottle in his natural fatness, andcollapsed with a groan. "Remove the body!" ordered Nickie, magnificently. "D'ye hear me, there, minions? Remove these offensive remain from theroyal presence. "

The guests had retreated against the walls, and Nickie held the floor. Nobody believed this to be an artistic effort to sustain the character. Weary Willie was as drunk as a lord. He tittered a wild Indian whoop, andsang the chorus of "at the Old Bull and Bush, " beating time with a leg ofturkey. Then he turned to the band. 

"Play 'God Shave King'. " he said. "If yeh don' play 'Go' Shave King' I'llhave ver heads off 'fore mornin'. "

King Henry interposed, he put a restraining hand on Nickie, and spokesoothingly to him and Nickie the Kid promptly knocked the poor monarch onthe head. Then rude hands seized Nickie: he was rushed from the house; hewas rushed down the path, and hurled into the street. 

When all the guests had left the white mansion at Banklands, and daylightwas streaming in, a weary man-servant interviewed the master of"Whitecliff. "

"Please, sir, " he said; "the--eh--gentleman who was thrown out lastnight. "

"Well, what of him?" asked the host, disgustedly. 

"He's sleeping in the garden, sir. "

The host went out. He found Nickie the Kid sleeping in the Pansy bed, andNickie was pulled to his feet. 

"Nicholas!" he gasped. 

"That'sh me, Willie, " answered Nicholas Crips. 

"You blackguard, you intrude into my house and insult my guests, and youpromised when I gave you that last £10 never to interfere with me again. "

"Now Willie, Little Willie, " said Nickie, "when did I ever keep mypromises?"

"Leave my grounds or I'll give you over to the police!"

"Chertainly, " said Nickie. "Chertainly, I'll leave the grounds. There'salways room for me outside. "

He took the skirt off his coat, heavy with the contributions of theguests, in his hand, and strolled joyously through the gate. 

"Ta-ta, " he said. "Good-bye, Billy, dear ole Billy, dear, old, fat-headed, bumptious Billy!"

Feeling like a king, Nickie the Kid passed down the road, and the morningsun glittered on the emblem on his breast. He was still sustaining thecharacter. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A TEMPORARY REFORMATION. 

NICKIE the Kid presented himself at the front door of a decorous villa inan intensely respectable suburb, with sad story. Mr. Crips did notaddress the lady as an unblushing mendicant, he spoke as a man of somerefinement and keen sensibility, whose bitter complaint was literallydragged from him by adverse circumstances. 

The lady was touched--her eye moistened. 

"That is really very sad, " she said. "Come right in, my poor man. Youmust tell your story to my James. James will know how to help you. "

Nickie followed the lady without the smallest compunction. She knockedquietly at the door of a room and admitted Nicholas to a small apartmentfitted up like a study. At a table near the window a grave young man wasseated with writing materials before him. 

"Well, mater" he said, "whom have we here? Another of your proteges?"

"I want you to listen to this poor fellow, James, " said the lady, "hisstory will touch you as it has touched me. My poor man, this is my son, the Rev. James Nippit. "

Nickie bowed with a grace that did not belong to his tramp's garments andhis insanitary and unshaven state. 

"Thank God. I have met you, sir, " he said, in the voice of a strong manwhose sorrows have about broken his proud spirit, "if your heart is asgentle as that of this sweet lady. "

The lady withdrew, and the Rev. James Nippit, who had been eyeing Mr. Crips keenly, motioned hit to a chair. 

"Be seated, " he said, "and tell me your story. "

"I am the only son of the Rev. Arthur Crips, of Bolton, Lancashire, England, " said Nickie. "My father held a good living. He intended to makea doctor of me. He brought me up always with that intention, lavishedmuch money on me, and from the time I was fourteen I understood I was tolive the life of a gentleman. Before my education was completed my fatherdied, and I found that he had been led into speculation and we wereruined. Not only ruined, but disgraced. The shock killed my mother. Icame to Australia. Unwittingly, without a chance of saving myself, I sankand drifted till I found myself a mere tramp. For years I have been atattered, unclean, despised outcast. Yesterday I heard you preach; I wasoutside under a window too despicable a creature to enter among you trimflock. Your sermon reminded me of what I was, showed me to myself, madethe future horribly real to me. I was inspired to fight, to try and workmyself out of the slough into which I have drifted, and I have come toyou for help. I am here. " Nickie the Kid opened his arms with a dramaticgesture--his face was very sad. 

"Liar!" said the young clergyman looking Nickie straight in the eye. "Liar!" he repeated. 

Nickie looked back into the eye of the clergyman. His face betrayed noamazement. For a moment it was grave, almost reproachful, and then itrelaxed into a broad grin. The device had failed--there was no furtheroccasion for subterfuge. 

"Well, " Mr. Crips admitted, "I don't pretend to be a George Washington. Imay have been betrayed into errors of detail. "

"It is as well you admit it, " said the Rev. Nippit. "Because I did notpreach yesterday. "

"Very remiss of you, " said Mr. Crips. 

"And, furthermore, I remember you well. Two years ago I was on a charitycommittee that inquired into your case. You were then the son of aQueensland Judge, reduced to poverty by wild living, but anxious toreturn to respectable courses. "

Nickie grinned again, and took up his hat. "It is as you say. " he said, "a truly delicious morning for a stroll. I think I'll go and watch thegrass grow. Good-day, Mr. Nippit. "

The young clergyman arose and interposed between Nickie and the door. "You will stay where you are, " he said. "Sit down. "

Nickie sat down. He placed his hat very carefully on the carpet, foldedhis arms, and crossed his legs. "You are very kind, " he said. "May I askif a compulsory lunch goes with this unwarrantable detention?"

"That remains to be seen, " replied James. "I am going to offer you yourchoice of two courses. You will either submit yourself to my deliberateintention of making a good, clean, respectable, industrious member ofsociety of you, or you will walk out of this place into gaol. "

Nickie's mind was made up instantly, but he did not capitulate in toogreat a hurry; he talked of conditions, and asked for details of hisexpected regeneration. The Rev. Nippit explained his belief that all menhad in them the elements of decency, order and religion. Those elementsonly needed proper opportunities for development. He purposed givingNickie the opportunities. He needed a handy man about the house; Nickiewas to have the job. He would be expected to bathe every day, to shaveevery day, and observe the decencies of the well-ordered home. 

"And you are prepared to believe you can reform me?" said Nickie the Kid. 

"I am not only prepared to believe it--I am determined to believe it, "said the young clergyman, thumping the table. 

Nickie smiled again. "I submit myself to the experiment" he said, "butpromise nothing. I don't think you will succeed. Your intentions aregood, but mine are not, and it takes two to make a bargain. "

Nickie entered his new duties at once. After lunch he took a shovel intothe garden and toyed with the earth a while, and then he went to sleepunder a tree. The Rev. Nippit awakened him and talked with him in a firmbut kindly spirit on the virtues of honest dealings with one's employer, and the necessity of industry to keep the world wagging, Nickie'graciously admitted that it was all very true. But when set to clean outthe fowl-house he sat on a stone and held converse with an educatedcockatoo next door. 

That evening, clean-shaven, freshly-bathed, dressed in a cast-off suit ofJames Nippit's, whole if slightly rusty, and robbed of its clericalsignificance, Nickie the Kid attended a religions function with hisreverend employer. Nickie was orderly, wakeful and fairly attentive. Whenthe plate came round he put threepence in, but he took a shilling out. Itwas a useful trick, taught him by an expert in the art of rigging thethimble and the pea. Nickie, when he had fairly good clothes, oftenattended church merely to practise it. To-night the exploit was more anact of unseemly and impious levity than a crime. 

The Rev. Nippit had a theory which he believed would succeed with ninemalefactors out of ten if exerted under fair conditions it was based onkindness, forebearance and the inculcation of excellent precepts. 

It is distressing to have to report that Nickie took few pains toencourage his preceptor. He was lazy, he sometimes forgot to shave, heoften forgot to bath, he was not always temperate; but the Rev. Jamesbore it all with unconquerable patience. If Nickie was lazy, he talkedwith him like a brother of the twin virtues, industry and thrift; if hewere unwashed, he explained to him that cleanliness was next togodliness: if he seemed to, have gazed too, long upon the wine when itwas red, or the beer when it foamed in the bowl, the clergyman pointedout the advantage of strict sobriety, and earnestly besought NicholasCrips to strive for higher things and the true light. 

The Rev. James Nippit was not discouraged. He saw Nickie often clean, usually decently attired, generally fairly decent in his behaviour, andalways respectful in his manner, and believed the seed of righteous wassprouting; but Nickie was living comfortably, he was being well fed andwell bedded, and was careful not to over-exert himself in the pursuit ofhis duties; consequently, it was easy for him to maintain a certain showof decorum. 

After Nickie the Kid had been under the tutelage of the Rev. James forabout three weeks, the latter was puzzled to find that Mr. Crips was farfrom penniless. Now Nickie was paid nothing his services, but every weeka small sum, representing his wages, was paid into the Savings Bank, andthe deposit was to be transferred to him when he gave proof of completeand perfect regeneration. When asked to account for a bottle of whiskyfound in his room, and for a burst of inebriety that represented a gooddeal in spot cash, Nickie quibbled. The quibble was obvious even to aninnocent soul like James. James was hurt, but he persisted. 

Nickie was content to have the experiment continue, but he held out nogreat hopes. "You know, " he said, "this is your scheme, not mine. You, asit were, forced me to submit. You said you'd reform me in spite ofmyself. Well, I am patient, and you are earnest, but we don't seem tomake much progress. "

For seven weeks the Rev. James Nippit continued experimenting and neveronce lost faith. 

James Nippit's pet work was in connection with his reform movement, theYoung Men's Mission, a design for upraising the youths of the larrikinand criminal classes. The Young Men's Mission had attracted someattention, people were found willing to contribute to the good work, andthis fact gave rise to some imposition. Uncertified persons of badcharacter were found to be collecting for the fund and appropriating themoney to their own use. This caused James much distress of mind. 

One Sunday afternoon when driving from his Sunday School the Rev. Nippitwas hailed by a trusted friend, who said:

"For the last ten minutes I have been listening to a man preaching on thesands down there. He represents himself as one of the leaders of theYoung Men's Mission Movement, and I am confident he is an impostor. If heis, it is your duty to expose him. "

The Rev. James took up the task eagerly. Leaving the buggy in charge of asmall boy, the two gentle men joined the crowd, and James soon recognisedthat the speaker was delivering something very like a sermon of his own, but seasoning it with a sort of quaint, insolent humour, that suited thetastes of his hearers admirably. The crowd laughed and applauded. 

"Brothers and sisters, " said the speaker, "I have shown you that theseyoung men must be divorced from the long-sleever, and rescued from thelures of the plump, peroxided barmaid, and the blandishments of Bung, thereprobate who runs the pub. I have shown you they must be turned from thejoys of the 'pushes, ' tobacco chewing, and stoushing in offensiveChinamen with bricks, and now I appeal to you for the means of doingthings. Money is said to be the root of all evil, but it is also themeans of much good. If we want to go to heaven, we must pay the tramfare. He who gives quickly gives twice, but it is better still to givetwice and to give quickly. "

As he spoke he moved among the people, taking up a collection in his hat, and the people responded liberally. He returned to his little eminence, and the Rev. James Nippit forced his way through the crowd, andconfronted him, flushed, furious, over flowing. 

"So, " said James, "this is the reward of my kindness? This--"

Nickie was silent for a moment--for the preacher was Nicholas Crips, garbed in an old suit of his master's--then he turned calmly and said:

"This gentleman, brothers and sisters, is the Reverend James Nippit, thefounder of our noble much desire to say a few words. I desire to saymission. He desires to say a few words. "

"Yes, my good people, " cried James, "I do very that the Young Men'sMission is one of the finest and most worthy institutions in this city toand to express the abhorrence I feel for those villains who make use ofthe credit the Mission has won for their own infamous purposes. " He wenton to explain how the Mission was being robbed, and wound up dramaticallywith the words: "And this man, this man at my side, this man who hasaddressed you in the guise of a minister, is one of the most wicked anddetestable of the impostors. "

But in consequence of his oratorical training, and his clergyman'sinability to come quickly to a point the denunciation lost its effect, for Nickie was not at the speaker's side; he had gone. He had taken theRev. James Nippit's buggy, and driven off, and he carried the collectionwith him. 

The buggy was safe in the carriage-house when the Rev. James returnedhome, but Nickie was seeking fields and pastors new. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE INCIDENT IN BIGGS'S BUILDINGS. 

THE tall, spare man in rusty, clerical raiment was going from room toroom in one of the huge, city buildings where Business people, gregariousas sparrows, nest in hundreds. 

The tall, spare man was cleanly shaved, he wore a very white collar, hisexpression combined benignity with a certain ascetic calm. He carried twoor three books in his left hand, pressed against his heart with a sort ofcaress, an affection very common with gentlemen of the cloth, forNicholas Crips had a keen eye for character, and his variousimpersonations were fairly true to type, and of no mean dramatic quality. 

Nickie the Kid knocked gently at an office door, a peremptory voicecalled "Come in, " and he opened the door very softly, entered, closed thedoor very gently behind him, placed his crippled belltopper (rimuppermost) on the small counter that walled visitors off from the severegentleman dictating to a blonde typewriter and said, with clericalunction. 

"Good-day sir. Good-day my dear young lady. "

"D-afternoon!" replied the severe gentleman severely. 

"Sir. I am here on a mission of charity, if you don't mind. I am the RevAndrew Rowbottom. I am collecting subscriptions for the widow and familyof the late William John Elphinston, a worthy member of my congregation, and a most estimable bricklayers labourer, killed, as you may remember, in the execution of his duty on the 14th September last. "

"Bless my soil, I can't be bothered with these matters in businesshours, " said the gentleman, and is severity was something terrible, butit did not appal the Rev. Andrew Rowbottom. 

"I have here a subscription list, " continued the intruder suavely. "Youwill find upon it the name of some of our most prominent businesspeople. "

"I'm busy. " said the severe gentleman. 

"Need I remind you, my very good sir, that the smallest contribution willbe thankfully received?"

"Be so good as to close the door after you. "

"Certainly, brother, all in good time. Shall we say half-a-crown?Half-a-crown is a nice sum. No? A shilling perhaps?"

"I suppose I shall have to pay for the privilege of being left in peaceto the pursuit of my affairs. Here!!" The severe man slapped a shillingon the counter. 

"Oh, thank you--thank you so much. " said the Rev. Andrew Rowbottomeffusively. "What name?"

"Confound the name!" snapped the severe gentle man. "Good-day. "

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure--good--day, " said the Rev. Andrew, and hesmiled and bowed and slid I trough the half-open door. 

Nicholas Crips called at many offices. In a few instances the occupantsevaded a levy. They were people who had no particular business in hand, and could spare the time to hear all the Rev. Andrew Rowbottom persuasivearguments and stubbornly resist each plea, but the majority of the menwere glad to buy the eloquent clergyman off with a small contribution. Sometimes office boys were impertinent, and an occasional business manwas insolent and talked of throwing the suppliant out of the window, butMr. Rowbottom was always suave and conciliatory. He seemed to sympathisewith the angry individual whose privacy he was forced to break in pursuitof a sacred duty. 

Nickie the Kid reached the fourth floor. It was very quiet, and most ofthe offices were deserted. He found a pale young typewriter, a slave ofthe machine, in a room rather larger than an alderman's coffin, andobtained threepence in coppers for the widow and family of the latelamented William John Elphinston. He passed along a dim passage, and cameto one of the larger apartments fronting the main street. It wasevidently one of a suite. On the door was a brass plate bearing the name. "Henry Berryman. "

The Rev. Andrew Rowbottom knocked on his door a meek, appealing summons. He received no reply. Confident that he had heard a movement in the roomAndrew knocked again. Still on answer. The Rev Andrew Rowbottorn turnedthe knob, opened the door a foot or so, and thrust his benignantcountenance into the room. 

The face when it first appeared to the occupant was lit with a smile, suffused with a tender benevolence, a moment later it was stark andwhite, drawn with horror, a horror that chilled the blood, and gripped atthe heart with a hand of iron. 

What the Rev. Andrew Rowbottom saw was a tall, handsome, fashionably-dressed woman of about thirty-six resting with her back to anoffice table, the position was crouching, her fingers clung to thetable's edge; her eyes, large, dark, and instinct with mortal terror, were fixed upon the stranger in the doorway. At her feet was the body ofa man, a stout man of perhaps forty. The body lay on its right side, theface turned to the floor, and from somewhere in the breast flowed a redstream that massed in a dark, clammy pool upon the slate colouredlinoleum. 

Nickie saw a faint, flutter of movement in the limbs of the man on thefloor, and his eyes rose to the face of the woman again. Her dry tonguepassed over her parched lips, she seemed to be making an effort to speak. On the table near her right hand was a knife. 

Nicholas Crips slipped into the room, the door closed softly behind him. He had recognised the woman. She was his Mary Stuart of the Mask Ball. The man on the floor he remembered in the guise of Henry VIII. 

For a terrible half-minute the two stared at each other over the deadman. 

"You killed him!" whispered Nickie. 

The woman tried to moisten her lips again, made an effort to speak, andher voice broke in her throat. She nodded dumbly. 

"My God!"

"You-you-what are you going to do?" whispered the woman. "Why don't youcall out?" There was a wild hope in her dilated eyes. "You don't! Youdon't!"

Nickie shook his head. "I don't run for the police?" he said. "No, I amnot on speaking terms with the police myself. "

"You won't seize me, you won't betray me--you, a clergyman!"

"No. " said Nicholas Crips. 

The woman moved forward, she laid hands upon him, she looked into hisface. 

"He was a villain. " she said. "He deserved it, but I am a murderess, andyou won't--" Her hands gripped him, a new light shone in her eyes. 

"Why were you creeping in here?" she said. "You are a thief, That'sit--you are a thief. Well, listen, there are five thousand pounds' worthof diamonds in a little leather bag in his breast pocket!" She pointeddown at the body. "Five thousand pounds' worth, " she said. 

"Five thousand!" he gasped. "Five thousand!"

The woman's hand was on the door knob. She opened the door and slippedout. The lock clicked as she closed the door behind her. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A DEPARTURE INTO ART. 

NICHOLAS CRIPS seated-himself on a warm stone, on a convenient boulderspread the contents of yesterday's "Age. " The "Age" contents on thisoccasion was the lunch of Mr. Nicholas Grips. Nickie had been given themeal half-an-hour earlier by a kind soul in one of the suburbs, to whomhe had pitifully presented his urgent need of sustenance of an invitingkind. Very adroitly Nickie the Kid had dwelt upon his necessities, whileimpressing the lady's with the eccentricities of a peculiarly capriciousappetite. 

It was the day after the distressing incident in Biggs's Buildings. Mr. Crips was no longer dressed in his clerical garments; they were carefullystowed away in a niche in a riverside quarry where he had long kept hiswardrobe. To-day Nickie was dressed in the rags of a simple mendicant. 

The strongly melodramatic adventure the previous day did not seem todistress Mr. Crips; he ate heartily, but had only reached his secondcourse, which was represented by the chicken, when his attention wasattracted by a very lean, very pale, hollow-eyed, sad stranger who hadseated himself on a sloping tree nearer the river, and was eyeing thebanquet hungrily. 

Nickie the Kid, was not selfish. When his own needs were fairly met hecould be generous with anybody's property, even his own. He tapped thechicken's breastbone invitingly with his penknife, and addressed thestranger. 

"May I offer you a little lunch, sir?" he said urbanely, with quite theair of a generous host. 

The long, lean man shook his head in mute melancholy, but accepted theinvitation as an offer of friendship, and approached nearer, seatinghimself on a rock facing Nickie's banquet. 

"No, thanks, boss, " he said. 

"You'll forgive me, " said Nickie, after wrenching a mouthful from theback of the pullet, "but you look famished. "

"I am, " answered the stranger. 

"Well, help yourself. These garlic sausage sandwiches are superb. Try thebeer. "

Nickie pushed his jam tin forward. 

The other shook his head very regretfully. 

"I mustn't, " he said. "Fact is, my livin' depends on me not eatin', an'I've got a wife an' kiddies to support. "

Nickie paused with the bottle half-way to his mouth. 

"Your living depends on your not eating?" he ejaculated. "What, do youearn anything by starving, then? By Jove, that's a quaint idea. "

"I earn all I get by starvin'. My name's Cann--Matty Cann, but I'm knownprofessionally as Bony-part. Ain't yeh seen me advertisements up the mainstreet? I'm drawed on a big poster outside Professer Thunder's Museum ivMarvels, I'm the livin' skelington. "

"He isn't ruining himself with your upkeep, " Nickie. 

"No. " replied the Living Skeleton. "I'm allowanced off an' I've got t'eat on'y what he gives me--that's in our contrac'. If I eat more an puton flesh out I go. There's a clause in ther contrac' what sez I'm li'blet' be fired if goes above seven stone seven. The previous livin'skelington got the run at Barnip fer breakin' out. He was the onlyoriginal. I'm just a sort iv understudy. "

Nickie clicked his tongue sympathetically. "Well, " he said, "you mightpick a hone. That wouldn't be very fattening, and it might delude yourstomach with the idea you were having something to eat. "

Bonypart, the Living Skeleton, took the wish-bone with a few shreds ofchicken on it. 

"Thanks, " he said, "it might be a comfort. " He sucked the bone fondly. 

"You said that Professor Thunder's only original living skeelton brokeout at Barnip. What happened to him?"

"He went on the spree, " said Matty Cann. 

"Drink?" queried Nickie. 

"No, food. He got at a bar spread in the Shire hall at Barnip, an' aforethey missed him he ate enough fer ten Shire Councillors. He completelyrooned that banquet. That was the third time he'd gone on th' spree, an'ther Perfesser 'ad warned him if it 'appened again he'd get the shoot. "

Nickie the Kid grinned. 

"It isn't a Profession that would suit me, " he said. "I have aninstinctive fondness for meals. I knew the travelling show' business wasa hungry game but I never reckoned on starvation as a means of earning alivelihood. "

"Oh. 'tisn't all bad. " said Ronypart eagerly. "There's th' Missin' Link, fer instance; he a glutton. Blime, th' food that Missin' Link gets makesme lose all patience, an' sometimes I'd like t' get right up from mychair, an' bite him. He's in the 'ospital just now, sufferin' from hisover--feedin'. It's a judgment on him. "

"A monkey in the hospital!"

"Well, he ain't exactly a monkey. He was a man done up something like oneo' them hoorang-hoo-tangs. Yeh see, part o' Perfesser Thunder's show iscalled the Descent of Man. It contains ten different kinds of monkeys, from Spider, a little cove 'bout th' size iv a rat, up t' Ammonia, what'sa big griller. Th' Missin' Link, he comes next; but as I was sayin' he'sout iv it just now, bein' ill, an' Perfesser Thunder ud give ez much eztwo quid er week fee a good, reliable Missin' Link what wouldn't over-eathisself. " The Living Skeleton was allowing an inquiring eye to roam overNickie the Kid. 

"I was thinkin' yon was just bout th' build fer a Missin' Link, " he said. 

"What, me?" cried Nickie. 

The Skeleton nodded, and Nickie was silent for a moment, lost in thought. It was very necessary that Nickie should sink his identity for a time. Here was a magnificent opportunity. "Has the Missing Link much to do?" heasked. 

"No, " replied Matty Cann. "He's just gotter he careful not t' over-eathisseif, as I was savin'. Yeh see, people what come in t' th' show giveshim buns, an' lollies an' things, an' if he's a glutton he' bound t' heknocked out. "

"What else does he do?"

"Oh, prowls round in the cage. "

"Anything else?"

"An' scratches hisself. "

"Yes. "

"An' growls. "

"That seems easy. "

"Well, it all depends. If yer gifted that way it's easy enough, but realscratchin' an' natural growlin' takes a bit o' doin'. "

"How's this?" asked Nickie. 

He scratched himself in approved monkey style, hopped briskly over thestone, then sat up, and growled a deep, guttural growl. 

"That's it--that's it, t' th' life!" cried Bonypart in amazed admiration. "Why, you're er natural born artist, that's what you are. If I couldgrowl an' scratch like that I'd be a Missin' Link t'-morrer. No moreliving skelingtons fer me. "

"Look here, " said Nicholas Crips seriously, "how long does the MissingLink have to remain in the cage?"

"The show opens et one in th' afternoon, close at five, opens again atseven, an' closes et arf-pas ten. "

"And has the Missing Link to be growling' and scratching all the time?"

"No, not all the time. If there ain't any people in he kin lie in ercorner on th' stror under his blanket an' sleep, an' sometimes he kinstay lyin' on the stror when there's on'y a few people in, so long ez hegrowls a bit, an' stretches hisself. There's a lot in stretchin' hisselfproper. "

"Like this, " said Nickie. He reached out one leg, clawed with his lefthand, and yawned cavernously. 

"Th' very identical, " said Bonypart admiringly. "You was meant t' be aMissin' Link. Y'iv got all th' natural gifts, an' with th' proper hidedrawn on over yeh, an' yer face made up a bit, nobody ud ever think youwas anythink else but a true African Missin' Link, born an' bred. "

"Are you quite sure the Missing Link has nothing else to do?" askedNickie, cautiously. 

"Positive, Missin' Links is scarce; they has pretty much their own way. Hold on--he's gotter 'aug a bit by one hand from a bar what goes throughhis cage, an' pretent to be sleepin'. "

Nickie the Kid had a contemplative expression "Bless my soul, " he said, "there are strange ways of earning a living, and I'm not sure that my wayis the easiest after all. "

He drained the bottle. 

Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels was established in a shop in BourkeStreet, Melbourne. The shop window was curtained with large posters, onerepresenting a tall man, very thin even for a skeleton, sitting at atable, tying knots in his limbs. The other pictured a strange, hairymonster, half human, half monkey, which was labelled "Darwin's MissingLink. " On a kerosene case at the door stood Professor Thunder himself, appealing to the populace to pause and contemplate the "astonishin'marvellous pictorial representations, " and assuring five small boys thatthese were "living, speaking likenesses" of the wonders within. "Nodeception, ladies and gents, no deception!" he cried. 

Professor Thunder was his own "spruicher;" his eloquence was remarkable, his voice had the carrying power of a steam whistle, and the penetratingqualities of a circular saw. He was a quaint product of the showbusiness, having been born in a museum and bred in an atmosphere of cheaptheatricals. 

"Step inside! Step inside! Step inside!" cried the Professor. "There youwill behold our extraordinary educational collection of Nature'smysteries, known as 'The Descent of Man, ' described by the nobility, thescientists, and the faculty as the most complete representation of man'sdescent from the apes ever presented to an intelligent audience. Thereyou will behold Bonypart, the miraculous, the bone man who has mystifiedall the doctors and amazed millions. There you will behold Ephraim, theenlightened pig; Madame Marve, the unrivalled seer, and last, but notleast, Mahdi, the Missing Link, pronounced by travellers, medical men, and Darwinian students to be the one and only authentic and reliableMissing Link discovered by mortal man. And the price is only sixpence. Step up! Step up!"

The people stepped up, and saw the living skeleton, a thin, long, melancholy man sitting on a chair, in limp tights, showing his bonyknees; the educated pig, that did astonishing things at the bidding ofMadame Marve; and the Descent of Man, represented by several monkeys ofvarying sizes, a gorilla, and the awe-inspiring Missing Link. 

The cage of Mahdi, the Missing Link, was some what dark, and the terribleform of the mystery loomed in the dusk, heavy and formidable. He was asbig as a man, somewhat lank, and covered with coarse hair the colour ofcocoanut matting. This afternoon, when the early patrons entered, theyfound him hanging limply by one arm, like a great ungainly bat. 

"The Missing Link always reposes in this manner in his native wilds, "said Madame Marve, in the chaste tones she assumed when impartingvaluable instruction "but he is otherwise very human in his tastes andhabits. "

"Has 'e a vote, ma'am?" asked a facetious labourer. 

A stout lady prodded Mahdi with her umbrella, and he flopped on all fourson the floor of his cage, and sprang forward with a hoarse growl, reaching a great, hairy paw out of the cage. 

"Lor blime, missus, yer ortenter do that to another woman's 'ushand, "said the facetious labourer. 

The people pressed about Mahdi's cage. They threw nuts at him, andoffered him lollies and cakes, and the Missing Link went through manysurprising contortions, and rolled about, and capered, and growled in amost realistic way, while Madame Marve gave a full and exciting accountof his capture in the jungles of Central Africa by a party of hunters, ofwhom Professor Thunder was the leader and the conspicuous hero. 

"Mahdi was then very young, " said Madame. "He has been reared with greattenderness, and is now probably the most valuable, and he is the rarestanimal in the world. Professor Thunder has been offered thousands ofpounds for Mahdi, but refuses to part with him, preferring to take themarvellous monkey-man through the world for the education and edificationof his fellow-creatures. "

Mahdi swung on his bar again, flopped, and then ran up the back wallseveral times, after which he sat in a corner and scratched himselfindustriously, grinning at the people every now and then, or uttering agrowl that gave the women delicious cold shivers. 

The attention of the patrons was next drawn to the educated pig, andpresently the show-room was empty again for a minute or two. Madame Marveaddressed Mahdi the Missing Link. 

"You must growl more, my boy, " she said. "The people like the growling, it terrifies them, and they talk to their friends about it. You reallymust keep on growling. I don't care if you don't scratch quite so much, but you must growl. "

The Missing Link pushed his drab muzzle through the bars. 

"Keep on growling, " he protested. "Excuse me, madame, but I'm damned if Ido unless you give me more beer. I've got a throat like a hot-box. "

Old friend of Mr. Nicholas Crips would have recognised those crisp tonesinstantly. Nickie the Kid had found his vocation. 

CHAPTER VII. 

AN UNFORTUNATE MEETING. 

NICHOLAS CRIPS entered into formal agreement with Professor Thunder, soleorganiser, director and owner of Thunder's Celebrated Museum of Marvels, to impersonate Mahdi, the Missing Link, at a salary of thirty-seven andsixpence a week and keep, Nickie undertaking to observe the Sabbath, tobehave becomingly and in no circumstances to disclose his identity topersons outside the show. 

The clause entailing strict observance of the Sabbath was a wise one fromthe Professor's point of view, as a previous Missing Link had takenadvantage of Sunday being an off-day to get unreasonably drunk, in whichstate he betrayed the confidence of his employer, and disclosed the mostsacred secrets of the profession. 

Nickie was assured that the job would be a permanency if he provedhimself a zealous, efficient Missing Link, and as he understood that evenwhen on show Mahdi was expected to do little more than curl up on thestraw in his cage and growl, he gratefully accepted. The contract wassigned. 

So far Nicholas had discovered the new skin he was compelled to don to bethe only serious disadvantage attached to his office. It wastight-fitting, coated with monkey-like hair, and covered him entirely, the face being disguised under an attached mask with a flat nose andpatches of hair. The skin laced down the spine, but the laces wereartfully hidden under the fur. 

At least Nickie was leading man of the small company. Ammonia (whose cageadjoined the more sumptuous one in which Nickie was exhibited, and whoseopen jealousy of Mahdi was a source of no little inconvenience to Nickiethe Kid) was an item of considerable interest, but the Link was theculminating point of the monkey's progress the climax, so to speak, andhe enjoyed great popularity and many nuts. Possibly the nuts were thetrue source of Ammonia's dislike. 

Nickie the Kid had been three days figuring as the star of ProfessorThunder's Museum of Marvels, and was growing accustomed to his suit, andto the situation. The Professor himself was a born vagabond, and hiswife, Madame Marve, the somewhat plump prophetess, who read fortunes, andwas mistress of the educated pig, had the Gipsy instinct and took lifeeasily. Nickie had a good deal in common with both, and they promised tobe a happy family. 

In his proudest moments Professor Thunder was not likely to overestimatethe intrinsic value of the Missing Link as he stood, for tucked awayunder the singlet that lay between him and his hairy simian cuticle was astore of treasure with the product of which Nicholas Crips dreamed ofliving a life of ease and luxury when certain matters had blown over andit was wise for him to resume his proper place in the animal creation. 

The murder in Briggs's Building had stirred up a tremendous sensation, but as yet no one had thought of associating either the Rev. AndrewRowbottom or the tall, fashionably-dressed lady with the crime. 

The show was not yet open for the evening, and Mahdi, the Missing Link, was permitted the privilege of free speech, denial of which was one ofthe most painful disadvantages of his public career. 

"Well, how're yeh likin' th' grip, Nickie?" asked Matty Cann, otherwiseBonypart the living skeleton. 

"It is not exacting. " said the Missing Link, dreamily, "but it has itsdrawbacks to a man accustomed to finding favour with the ladies. "

"Drawbacks, " exclaimed Bonypart. "What price living skelingtons? Youwouldn't believe it, but I'm considered rather a fine man in flesh. Italmost breaks my poor wife's 'eart t' see me in such redoocedcircumstances. I tell yeh I never thought I'd come clown t' this. "

Nickie peered at the living skeleton from his cage. "I believe being amissing link has its advantages. " he said. "After all, a missing linkdoes have time off, but a living skeleton has no relaxations. "

"Dry up, Mahdi, an' get on your perch, " cried Madame Thunder, "TheProfessor's openin' up. "

The door was opened, and the Marvels heard Professor Thunder declaimingon the astonishing quality of his exhibits. 

"Roll up! Roll up! Roll up!" exclaimed the professor in his deep, steam-organ tones. "Roll up, and see Mahdi and Marve--Mabdi the MissingLink, the great man-monkey, captured in the gloom junge of DarkestAfrica, the Connectin' link 'tween man an' the beasts; Marve, the Mystic, the prophetess, enchantess and Egyptian seer, who will read your futurein your palm, exhibit her educated pig, and display the occult science ofthe Oriental wonder-workers!'

"Here they come, " said Madame, arranging her rich Egyptian costume, madeby sewing a design of spangles on a curiously-patterned bed quilt. 

The Missing Link hooked himself to the crossbar with one hand, drew uphis hairy legs, and remained suspended in a limp attitude, as two women, with frightened children clinging to their skirts, entered the show. 

Madame took charge of the audience, and lucidly explained the Darwiniantheory, beginning with Spider, the tiny ape, and tracing the descent ofman through Ammonia, the gorilla, to Mahdi the Missing Link, and Mahdiromped about the cage, growled and gibbered, poking his amazingly humanface through the bars for fleeting moments. 

When not engaged telling fortunes, performing a few primitive illusions, or putting Ephraim, the Educated Hog, through his manoeuvres, Madame wasanything the occasion required. The Professor had great faith in her. Shehad once carried the show through successfully when the Living Skeleton, the Missing Link, Ammonia the Gorilla, and Ephraim were all incapacitatedthrough an influenza epidemic. 

They had a big evening, the holiday-makers flocked in so freely thatProfessor Thunder abandoned his position as "spruicher, " or publicspeaker, and took charge of the interior, acting as explainer andinterpreter, leaving his little daughter Letitia to take the sixpences atthe door. 

The night was warm, and as the stream of patrons was incessant, Nickiethe Kid found his duties most oppressive, and had serious thoughts ofshedding his skin. 

Professor Thunder greatly excited the interest of the crowd by announcingthat a sum of one pound and a silver medal valued at one guinea would begiven to any person courageous enough to follow Madame Marve's exampleand enter the cage containing Mahdi, the Missing Link. 

Nickie was resentful, as this meant a most energetic demonstration ofsavagery on his part, following a fawning and submissive manner, whilemadame, wearing a large sombrero and a man's coat, moved about in thecage, cracking a whip. 

The people gathered before the cage gazed upon madame with stupid awe, while the strange monster capered, or prostrated himself in greathumility at her bidding. When she had withdrawn, and after the Professorhad made his prodigal offer, it was Mahdi's duty to stimulateungovernable ferocity, in order to deter any too-venturesome spirits. Nickie did his best. He bounded madly round the cage, he tore at thestraw, tooth and nail, he roared terribly, and snatched furiously at thepeople near the bars. The crowd retreated in terror; all save one woman, a grim-looking female with the indurated face of an old-establishedlodginghouse-keeper. 

This woman came forward, and jabbed at Mahdi the Missing Link with herumbrella. "Gerrout, yeh brute!" she said. Mahdi backed into shadescarefully provided at the back of the cage, and the old woman reached herumbrella through the bars, and made a hit at him. Mahdi seemed to cower. 

"A prize of one pound and a silver medal to any person daring enough toenter the cage of Mahdi, the man-monkey!" repeated Professor Thunder, with great hardihood. 

"Wha's that?" gasped the woman. 

Professor Thunder repeated his intrepid words; aside he hissed "Bellow, damn you--bellow!"

Nickie bellowed; he jumped with desperate energy, he clawed up the straw, but he remained in the shadow. 

"A pound!" cried the woman. "A pound jist fer goin' in with that ape?Done! I'm yer man. "

The Professor was thunderstruck, so also was Mahdi the Missing Link. Never since Thunder invested in his famous fake of the man-monkey had manor woman been found courageous enough to beard the monster in his den fora pound. Never had any been expected to. Professor Thunder stoodnon-plussed. 

Madame went to the back of the cage. "Howl!" she whispered. "Howl! Do youwant to ruin us?"

Mahdi howled, he growled ferociously, he made an attempt to savageAmmonia. His paroxysms were fearful to look upon, but the woman did notseem to mind in the least. 

"Open the door, " she said. 

"Madame, are you quite resolved to take this terrible risk?" saidThunder, gravely, feeling keenly the approaching loss of a hard-earnedpound. 

"Terrible pickles!" said the woman. "I've bin managin' men fer twentyyears, an' I ain't goin' t be stopped be no monkey. "

"Very well, madam, the consequences be upon your own head. " (Aside toNickie) "Roar, curse you, roar!"

The Missing Link crept to the back bars in an imploring attitude. "No, no; for the love of heaven! don't let her in!" he whispered to MadameMarve. 

Professor Thunder burst into one of his frenzied street orations to drownthe voice of the Missing Link, and threw open the cage door. The crowdhuddled hack, horrified. One girl screamed, but the heroine from theold-established lodging-house boldly entered the cage, swinging her gamp. 

It was expected that the strange monster from the dim, damp jungles ofDarkest Africa would spring upon her, but he did nothing of the kind; herushed to the back of his cage, and cowered down, burying his face in thestraw. 

The heroine butted Mahdi the Missing Link with her gamp. He gave no sign. She kicked him. He bore it meekly, crouching lower. There was sometittering in the crowd. 

"Get up, you nasty brute!" said the woman, and prodded the horridmonster. 

Nickie didn't even growl. The woman kicked, she kicked with force. Shebooted the terrible brute round the cage. She seemed to glory in hertriumph, and when Mahdi butted into a corner and refused to stir, shetook him by one leg, and towed him twice round the cage, and thetittering the crowd swelled to yells of derisions and ribald laughter, while Professor Thunder pranced about and cursed furiously. To save hisshow from being ruined with ridicule, he rushed in, seized the woman, andbundled her from the cage. 

"I can't permit on to risk your life in this mad way, " he blurted; "anymoment he might round on you, and then they'd pinch me for manslaughter. Here is your pound, madam; go, and thank God you have been permitted tolive through this fearful experience. " He paid with the grand air of ahero of melodrama. His manner was so impressive it almost restoredconfidence, but Mahdi, the monster, remained crouched at the back of hiscage, his face hidden in the straw, and nothing would induce him to comeout till closing time. 

When the last patron was gone, and the doors were closed, ProfessorThunder approached Nickie. 

"Well, my friend, you're a pretty cheap kind of baa-lamb for a Missin'Link, I must say, " he said haughtily. "Why in the devil did you allow thewoman to make such a holy show of you?"

"What was a man to do?" answered Nickie. 

"A Missin' Link that knew his business would have scared her out of herrags. By Heavings, man, you are no artist--you will never be an artist. "

"You couldn't scare that woman with a den of lions and an old-time Germandragon, Professor. "

"Bosh! Rot! My last Missin' Link would have had her in fits, sir. "

"Allow me to know, please. "

"What do you know about her in pertickler, fellow?"

"Well, it's ten years now since I ran away from her, Professor, but Iought to know something about her. She's my first error of judgment. She's my wife!"

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE LINK GOES MISSING. 

THE Missing Link was recognised by patrons of Thunder's Museum of Marvelsas no ordinary animal. The Professor's show being conducted in a smallshop, and owing nothing of its popularity to expensive advertisments inthe "Amusements" columns, received no recognition from the press, consequently fame on a large scale did not come to Professor Thunder. Nevertheless the Museum of Marvels enjoyed a reputation in humblecircles, and here Mahdi was talked of, and accepted without a question, as an astonishing vindication of the Darwinian hypothesis about which theProfessor discoursed so fluently in his three minutes' lecture before thecage. It had only taken Nicholas Crips two weeks to assert himself, andalready he had introduced many novelties into the recognised "business"for Missing Links. 

Occasionally a too-inquisitive visitor with a taste for natural historybecame obtrusive and sought close investigation. It was part of Nickie'sduty to fill such visitors with a proper respect for Missing Links, butninety-nine out of every hundred accepted Mahdi in good faith. It is anaxiom in the show business that the people who can't be deceived are sofew that they are not worth considering. 

It was a hot day, life in the cage was very oppressive. Nickie the Kidwas painfully thirsty. Probably no Missing Link since the day when manbegan to emerge from the monkey had ever been so sorely afflicted withthe craving for alcoholic stimulants. 

Mahdi had a fixed allowance his beer supply was rigorously prescribed byProfessor Thunder, and precisely measured by Madame Marve. It was thisprecision that prevented Nickie being quite content with an artisticcareer. 

He had had his first pint. The second pint was not due for two hours. Nicholas Crips was not satisfied he would survive the time. The place wasstifling. 

"Yar-r, get to blazes!" snorted the Darwinian hypothesis, and hurled hiswater tin at Ammonia. 

Ephraim, the pig, grunted pitifully, and Matty Cann, the bone man, drowsed in his chair. Madame Marve was sleeping, too, and the ripple of amonotonous snore came from the Egyptian tent. 

There were no patrons, the town was still, prone under the great heat. Professor Thunder entered, mopping his brow, and the Missing Link pressedagainst the bars. 

"How is it for a drink?" he said. "You've got to be generous, Professor, or I resign. There you are, a drink, or my resignation--the loss of themost versatile Link in the profession. "

The Professor entered the Egyptian tent, and presently returned with apint pannikin which he passed through to Mr. Crips. Nickie seized itgreedily, raised it to his lips, and then changed his mind, and hurled itat Thunder with a furious imprecation. 

"Water!" snarled the Missing Link, "Water! You have the heart to insult aChristian thirst with water on a day like this, you blastiferous heathen!Let me out! I resign. Let me out of this monkey house. "

Professor Thunder laughed and returned to his post at the door, and thebaffled Link pushed his face through the bars and poured a torrent offrantic objurgations in the direction of the street door. 

"Nickie, fer th' love iv 'Eaven let er man sleep, " pleaded the LivingSkeleton pitifully. "I was just a-dreamin' iv pickled pigs' feet an'fried taters--crisp, brown, fried taters. Oh, Lord!"

"Be quiet!" snarled the Missing Link, "and do a perish here from thirstwhile that cow of a man swills his fill and makes a fortune out of mymortal agony? No, hanged if I do. "

The Missing Link howled again, and Madame Marve, that she might sleeppeacefully, broke rules and regulations, and smuggled him another halfpannikin of beer. 

"Lucky dog!" sighed the bone man. "If I was t' tear the place up theywouldn't give me half yard iv grilled steak an' er pint iv chips. "

After tea, Mahdi was very quiet on his straw. The Professor and MadameMarve were making their usual dinner of cold boiled leg of mutton, breadand beer, in the Egyptian tent. The other animals were sleeping. 

The Link was not sleeping, he was amusing him self in a quaint way at theback of his cage. He had a small lassoo made of cord, and was throwing itat an object near the wall at a distance of five feet. 

Every time Nickie failed he swore in a patient heart-broken way, but hepersisted, and eventually success crowned his efforts. An exclamation ofgreat joy burst from his lips. 

"No silly business there, Mahdi, " cried Madame warningly from her tent. "The public will be here in half a tick. "

Mahdi dropped his string and curled in a knot, but presently he startedcautiously hauling in his prize. A long hairy arm reached out andclutched it, and hastily hid the object in the straw. The treasure was abottle three-parts full of brandy, Professor Thunder's extra special. 

The Missing Link's performances during the next hour were curious andperfunctory: the animal was not himself. If Missing Links were habituallyintemperate one would be inclined to say this Missing Link had takensomething too much. During a quiet quarter of an hour Mahdi got the keyof his cage from the Professor's ordinary vest, which had been lefthanging within his reach, opened the door, and going quietly along thewall behind the cages, reached the back door, opened it, and stepped intothe night. 

Two minutes later a monstrous shape came out of the shadows of aright-of-way into the well-lighted City Street, a strange, misshapenanimal, with a head half-human half-monkey, with a body like that of anourang-outang and long, flapping feet. The brute was covered with short, tufted, reddish hair, and in its hand it carried a brandy bottlecontaining about half-a-cup of spirit. 

The first to confront Nicholas Crips, the Missing Link, was a woman. Shedid not attempt to escape, but stood right in his way, staring at himwith eye frantic with terror. Fear had struck her motionless but notdumb; she shrieked in Mahdi's face again and again. Her screams echoedalong the street. 

"Thash all ri', missus, " said the Missing Link affably, "I don' know you, an' excuse me; I don' wanter hear you sing. " He brushed her aside, androlled drunkenly into a wine shop. 

In the wine shop a large mirror served as a door screen. Nickie saw hisgrizzly shape reflected in this, and after surveying it in stupidsurprise for a few moments, smashed the glass with his bottle, and rolledout again. 

Amazed men assembled at the door, fell back in awe before the MissingLink, and Mahdi crossed the road, carrying the neck of the broken bottle, his quaint feet, like huge hands, flopping in the dust. Mahdi's make-updid Professor Thunder great credit--it was grotesquely inhuman. The shapeof the costume demanded a stooping attitude and shambling gait. Only in agood light and at close quarters could the deception be seen. 

People came running from all directions. A cab horse backed in terrorbefore the monster, reared, plunged furiously and bolted into a peanutstall. 

Nickie waddled on, blissfully unconscious of the sensation he wascreating. He invaded a secondhand clothes shop. 

"Shemima, mother of der brophet!" gasped Moses Aaronstein, throwing outhis palms in a gesture terror, and Moses bolted through a side door. 

The Missing Link appropriated a spangled skirt and trailed it after himdown the street. The shouting crowd followed at a respectful distance. Ina small eating-house the Link encountered two men eating fried steak andonions. They beheld him with indescribable emotion, glared for a momentand fled. A girl coming in with a tureen of stew dropped the lot on thefloor, threw her apron over her head, and fainted amongst the brokencrockery and scattered viands. 

For a moment the strange inebriate stood swaying over the prostrate girl, making a grave, drunken effort to grasp the situation, then the Italianproprietress came into the room humming a cheerful strain, and carrying aburden of fried sausages. She beheld the horror, uttered a piercingscream, and dashed up the narrow stairs. Nickie went up the stairs afterher, anxious to explain. The horrified people pressing at the front doorand the windows saw him pass out of sight. There was now a large, excitedcrowd in the street. All sorts of rumours were afloat. Already it wasstated that the mighty gorilla had killed three men and eaten half ahorse. Two policemen were busy beating back the crowd, and collectingevidence from excited onlookers who had seen nothing. 

At this stage, Professor Thunder dashed through the assemblage. TheProfessor was in an agitated frame of mind. 

"What is it?" he cried. "Has anyone seen a Missin' Link--a dark brownMissin' Link?"

Ten persons explained at once. 

"He's in there now, " cried a bewildered cabman, pointing to theeating-house. "He's ate er girl, an' he's out after the missus with aclub. "

"'T went up them stairs, " cried a trembling woman. 

Yells from the crowd in the road brought the people surging into themiddle of the street. Mahdi had opened a front window, and stepped out onto the roof of the verandah. He was dancing clumsily on the corrugatediron, and gesticulating, with his long, shaggy hands. Nickie wasdeclaring with the warmth of absolute conviction that he was a king, butthe yelling of the crowd rendered his speech inaudible. 

"I'm a king!" cried the Missing Link. "Behold in me your rightfulsovereign. Bow down t' ye ri'ful sovereign, ye base born!" He threw fivefried sausages into the crowd. 

The crowd continued yelling, and Nickie broke into a vain-glorious song, and capered like an idiot brandishing a Vienna loaf. 

Professor Thunder beat on his forehead like the baffled villain in theplay. "Ten thousand furies!" he howled, and dashed for the stairs. 

While the Missing Link was still capering, Professor Thunder appeared atthe window. He climbed through. The crowd loudly applauded his courage. He descended upon Mahdi, he seized him. The crowd cheered vociferously. Professor Thunder kicked the Missing Link. He dragged him back to thewindow, and kicked him through. The crowd nearly went frantic in itsappreciation of such heroism. 

Presently the Professor appeared on the stairs, dragging the hairymonster after him. He dragged it by the leg. It bumped cruelly on thesteps. The Professor pulled the Missing Link to his feet, took him by hisrudimentary tail and the scuff of his neck, and ran him out of the shop. He ran the grizzly monster up the street as a publican ejects theunwelcome drunk. The crowd followed, cheering still. 

It was an inspiriting sight. The Missing Link running on tip-toes, hiseyes projecting, seemingly in imminent danger of falling on his nose, theProfessor furious, two wild policemen with drawn clubs following after, ready to do or die should the terrible brute break loose again. 

The Professor ran Mahdi into the show, kicking him through the door. Hekicked him into his cage, and ten seconds later was vociferating on hiskerosene box again, strenuously inviting the crowd to roll up, roll up, roll up, and see the wonderful Missing Link, the only genuine man-monkeyin captivity. 

The rush that followed was unprecedented in the history of ProfessorThunder's Museum of Marvels. The people flocked in. Prices were put up toa shilling all round, but still the people flocked, and Letitia tooknearly a bucketful of silver before public interest was exhausted. 

Meanwhile, Madame Marve stirred up Nickie in his cage, and made him grinand howl and caper for the edification of the crowd, whose souls hisstreet escapades had filled with awe. 

Next day the papers contained an account of the excitement occasioned inthe city by the escape of a huge monkey from Thunder's Museum of Marvels, and the Missing Link demanded an increase of salary and a doubleallowance of beer, and got both, in view of his increased importance asthe greatest draw the show had ever known. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE MISSING LINK PERFORMS IN THE PROVINCES. 

AFTER taking to the show business, Nicholas Crips often complained of thevicissitudes of an artistic career and threatened on many occasions toresign his arduous role as the Missing Link, but despite his occasionaleccentric departures from the manners and customs of Missing Links, Nickie had so far proved to be the most successful and profitableman-monkey ever associated with the Professor's show, and Thunder wasdetermined not to lose him. 

A bottle of beer, a good meal, and a season of repose, usually overcameNickie's reluctance to continue his splendid impersonation. Besides, theeasy Bohemian life was taking hold of him, and the actor's morbid love ofapplause had already planted itself in his breast. 

Matty Cann, the bone man, was the most respectable and melancholy freakin the museum, but his melancholy was not native to him, it sprang fromthe cravings of appetite doomed to dissatisfaction--he had his brightermoments. 

"I ken put up with always bein' like er specimei iv er Indian famine, " hesaid, confiding in Mahdi the Missing Link, through the bars of the lattercage, "knowing the missus and the kids has plenty. You noticed 'ow fatJane was when she brought the fam'ly t' see the show the other day? Well, I give you my word, the wife was thin enough t' take on this billet'erself when the Perfesser engaged me. "

Nickie's sentimental side was quite stirred by the affection existingbetween Bonypart and his small family, and the anguish of Jane and thekiddies at parting with Matty when the show was on the eve of starting ona provincial tour so wrought upon him that he shed two large tears downhis Simian cheeks, and handed a shilling to Mat, the fat baby. 

The show opened at Bunkers, a small Gippsland town. The Museum of Marvelswas conveyed in a two-horse caravan, and was displayed in a small circustent, Mahdi's cage, as usual, being thrown into shadow by an ingeniousdevice of the Professor's. 

Professor Thunder was more at his ease in the bush towns. There patronsare neither so inquisitive nor so exacting as in the metropolis. TheMuseum of Marvels was opened to the public of Bunkers in the afternoon, admission sixpence, children half-price, special concessions to schoolsand other educational institutions. 

Nickie found his sphere of usefulness enlarged in the country, since heexpected to assist in pitching the tent and striking it again, and had todo his share of the camp work, cooking, &c. The quick changes preventedoutsiders from noticing that the absence of Nicholas Crips was alwayscoincident--with the appearance of Mahdi, the Missing Link; but, still, nice judgment and caution had to be observed in effecting thetransformation. 

Business at Bunkers was only moderate--for the first afternoon andevening, but Professor Thunder had so worked his "splendid livingrealisation of the Darwinian theory, the descent of man, " as to inducethe proprietress of a local young ladies' school to bring her pupils onthe second afternoon. 

There were twenty-five young ladies in all, daughters of the superiorfamilies of Bunkers and the surrounding district. Miss Arnott, theirteacher, was a tall, bony spinster, with austere glasses and sharp elbowsthat looked like weapons of defence. 

The Professor had several manners adapted for various audiences, andpossessed costumes to Suit. He met Miss Arnott and her pupils in hissplendid impersonation of the studious naturalist and reverent authorityon the wonders of creation. A long black coat, a somewhat dingybelltopper, and a pair of smoked spectacles went with the part. Soequipped, the boss conducted the seminary through his Museum of Marvels, educating and edifying the pupils, first with the astonishingmathematical calculations of Ephraim, the educated pig, then with MadameMarve's amazing acts of mysticism and legerdemain. 

The Living Skeleton was described as a unique freak of nature--"Teachingus all how wise and wonderlul are the workings of Providence, " said theProfessor, piously. "He is thin, ladies, but very--happy, " he added. 

This was Bonypart's cue to work off a long, wan smile, and he smiledaccordingly. The effort so worked on the feelings of one of the youngerpupils that she burst into tears, and offered the bone man her piece ofcake. 

Matty Cann looked eager, but the Professor smartly intervened. 

"Excuse me, young lady, " he said suavely, "but visitors are requested notto feed the Living Skeleton. Living Skeletons are very delicatelyorganised, madame, " he continued, addressing the teacher. "A dry biscuithas been known to throw them into violent dyspepsia and they have died ofa rump steak. "

Bonypart groaned audibly and recovering himself, made another effort tosmile, but failed, and sighed hungrily, whereat the younger pupil brokeinto a dismal wail, and had to be taken out and soothed with lemonade. 

The fine collection of natural curiosities, illustrating the descent ofman, was reserved for the last, and Professor Thunder proudly arrayed hiscompany before the cages containing the tiny apes, the middling-sizedgibbons, the baboon, Ammonia, the gorilla, and Mahdi, the man-monkey, orMissing Link. 

The young ladies were quite enthusiastic in their admiration. They fedthe Missing Link with spongecake and nuts, which he took from their handsand ate with a certain genteel decorum. His manner of cracking the nutswas much appreciated. Nickie was a specialist at nut-cracking, havingmade a special study of the subject at the Zoo. 

Some of the girls said he was a "regular dear, " and threw him flowers, and frosty Miss Arnott relaxed her elbows a trifle, and admitted thatthis quaint creature was indeed entertaining and instructive--mostinstructive. She had never met a more instructive creature. And meanwhileAmmonia the gorilla shook the dividing bars, and reached fierce clawstowards Mahdi, convulsed with jealousy, and inspired with a primitiveyearning for nuts. 

Professor Thunder spread himself in the delivery of his learned orationon the origin of the human race, beginning with Spider, and ranging up tothe wondrous Missing Link. "Captured by my own hand in the jungles ofCentral Africa, ladies, " said he, with fine dramatic elocution and theattitudes of a leading man. 

"You will observe that the creature is kept in semi-darkness, that isbecause he is accustomed to the thick shades of his native forests. He isvery docile, excepting when attacked or irritated"--(descriptive growlsfrom the Missing Link)--"when he displays extraordinary activity inpursuit of his foes"--(display of extraordinary activity by Madhi, swinging on the bar, racing round the cage, roaring, &c. ). "He is veryhuman in his appearance, as you will observe, and is much more upright inhis carriage than the gorilla, while his mild and benevolent expressionin repose"--(mild and benevolent expression artfully simulated by theMissing Link)--"gives his countenance a certain manly beauty and dignity. Looking at him thus, ladies, no one will deny that he stands for themissing link in the chain leading from the small ape up through thegorilla to the noblest work of God. " The Professor finished chin up, heels together, eyes lifted, and the left hand thrust in the vest, a laNapoleon--to signify the highest effort of a benign Providence. 

Here Ammonia created a diversion by squealing angrily, spitting at theMissing Link, and clawing for him in a paroxysm of professional envy. 

"I think, ladies, " continued Professor Thunder in his best manner, "thateven those who discard the Darwinian hypothesis because of theirobjection to acknowledging relationship with the monkeys should have noreluctance to admit some distant connection with this noble andintelligent being, so like man in bearing and intellect, and yet soclosely allied to the gorilla that we cannot deny--Blazes and fury!"

The Professor's indecorous ejaculation was in spired by the mean, vicious, and unsportsmanlike conduct of Ammonia the gorilla, who hadsucceeded in gripping Mahdi by one leg, and was hanging on, squealingfrightfully. 

"Pull him off! Pull him off!" yelled the Missing Link, forgettingeverything in the moment of pain and, peril. 

Instantly the whole show was thrown into commotion. Miss Arnott screamed, her pupils screamed, the monkeys all rattled at their cages and jabberedexcitedly; the Professor, the Living Skeleton, and Madame Marve added tothe uproar. 

Ammonia, having his hated rival in his power at last, was determined toglut his hate. He secured a grip with the other iron talon, draggedNickie down, and pulling him close to the bars, and pushing his shortnose between the rods, bit at him with gleaming teeth, and all the timehe clawed furiously, his nails tearing through the hide of the MissingLink, and lacerating the man beneath pitilessly. 

Nickie fought and yelled and swore, in good strong Australian. MissArnott's pupils, huddled together, staring with round, horrified eyes, and as they stared a truly horrible thing happened. The skin was tornclean from the upper part of the Missing Link, and the bare, blood-stained head and shoulders of a man emerged. 

That was too much for a well-conducted ladies seminary. With a finalear-piercing scream in chorus the school turned and fled; it brokepell-mell from the tent, headed by Miss Arnott, who executed a remarkablesprint, taking her age, her dignity and her lack of training intoconsideration. 

It was Madame Marve who rescued Nickie from the clutches of the gorilla, having subdued the brute with a discharge from a squirt charged withammonia; but Professor Thunder was not thankful, he hadn't time, hismagnificent mind was already busy on ways and means of repairing themischief done to his Missing Link and to his reputation as an honourableshowman. 

Of course, the revelation resulting from Ammonia's misconduct would goround the place like wildfire. There might be a raid of indignantresidents, a prosecution for fraud, and there wasn't time to run. 

The raid came in due time. Ten heads of families accompanied by Quinn, the local constable, bore down upon the Museum of Marvels within an hour. Professor Thunder met them at the entrance, with his studious manner andhis solemn black hat. The raid was going to express itself forcibly; itdid refer to "iniquitous frauds, " "shameful imposition, " "scoundrels, "&c. , but the Professor's big, penetrating voice, his heavy-as-leadmanner, triumphed. 

"Most unfortunate, gentlemen, a most lamentable disaster, " he said. "Myvaluable Missing Link is more seriously injured than I imagined, and Imay lose him, which would be a heavy blow, indeed, as the College ofNaturalists of London, values the beast at four thousand and seventypounds. "

"It's a fraud--a blanky imposition!" cried a fierce little man. 

"Gentlemen will you favour me by stepping into the museum, and judgingfor yourself, " said Thunder gravely. "You will find the Missing Link in alow state, but Madame Marve has done all that surgical skill could do. The murderous attacks of the gorilla scalped the poor creature, and torethe skin from his body, but the wounds have been stitched up--there isstill hope. This way, gentle men, and quietly, if you please. "

The surprised and subdued deputation found Mahdi, the Missing Link, lyingmoaning on his straw, his wounds--artfully bloodstained--all stitched up. There were white bandages about his head and his injured arms. 

"But the girls say it was a man gasped the fierce deputationist. 

"A not unnatural mistake, my dear sir, " said the Professor, "Strip thepoor creature of its hairy hide and its resemblance to a human creaturewould deceive the most expert naturalist. "

"Wonderful!" said the local publican. 

"But all the same, me mahn, " said Quinn, regretfully, "I have half amoind t' prosecute yeh fer croolty t' animals. "

The trick worked, however, the situation was saved, and that night allBunkers flocked to see the Missing Link that had been flayed in itslife-and-death struggle with an infuriated gorilla. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE STOLEN BABE. 

IN the larger townships and the small towns visit by the museum ofMarvels on its provincial tour, Professor Thunder, gifted manager of this"colossal amusement enterprise, " as the streamers eloquently phrased it, preferred to secure a shop in the main street to pitching his tent insome out-of-the-way place, where his persuasive powers might be wasted onthe desert air. 

The Professor flattered himself there was not a more seductive"spruicher" in the business, and, mounted on a gin case at a shop frontplentifully papered with screaming posters depicting the more popularattractions, he reckoned that he could always lure a given number ofpeople into the show by the sheer force of his eloquence, and so make upthe rent, provided there were men and women in the street willing tolisten. 

Professor Thunder had found a vacant shop to suit him near the end ofMain-street, Wangaroo. He would have preferred a central site at the sameprice, or even less, but none was available. However, business was sogood on the first afternoon and evening that he resolved to extend hisWangaroo season into the following week. This involved a day of idleness, an unemployed Sunday, a boon that rarely came to the partakers inProfessor Thunder's godless enterprises, the day of rest usually beinggiven over to travel and arduous preparations for a Monday matinee. 

Nicholas Crips was well content with the change of dates. He certainlytook a good deal of natural pride in his marked success as the mostartistic and realistic representative of the missing link, and toyed inthe reputation he was rapidly making for himself in the show business;but for all that, it was a great relief to throw off the hide of thecelebrated man-monkey, drop the exactions of art, and be himself for awhole day. 

Nickie did not find, as many celebrated actors have done, that the workof sustaining a grand role day after day, night after night, week afterweek, and month after month, was too exacting; he bore the strain withconsummate ease; moreover, the most conscientious artist wishes to behimself once now and again, if merely for a change. 

The shop in Wangaroo occupied by the Museum of Marvels was rented from aChinese greengrocer, who carried on a business next door. The place hadoriginally been one shop, but Kit See, with the frugality of his race, had partitioned it roughly, and with Oriental astuteness let the half fornearly as much as he paid for the whole. 

Kit See was a stout, cream Confucian with an oleaginous smile, and thegentle, propitiatory man of an inferior people, cunning enough to realisethat if you cannot dominate it is wisest to be docile. He had a goodstock, a good business, a half-caste wife, and a noiseless, placid, slit-eyed baby about the size of a Bologna sausage. 

The Missing Link discovered this much through a crack in the partition, and amused himself with his eyes glued to the slit when there were noprofessional demands on his time and talents. 

Most things that Mahdi did irritated Ammonia, whose jealousy and hatredwere intensified by Nickie's habit, when in a playful humour, of teasingthe gorilla by ostentatiously devouring delicacies Ammonia particularlyaffected in Ammonia's sight, almost within his reach. 

Nickie's interest in that hole in the wall was a course of consuminganxiety to Ammonia. While Mahdi had his eye to the wall, the gorillawould cling to the bars of his cage, pushing his blunt nose through, andgibber and spit and protest in a high-pitched, querulous growl. 

"Blime, yiv got the noble Ammonia goin' this trip, Nickie, " said theLiving Skeleton. 

"Yes, " replied Nickie, still with his eye to the crack, "that beast willhave to learn decency and good conduct, Matty, my man. I aspire to teachhim moral restraint. "

"He'll do you a bad turn one o' them days, mark me. "

"I believe not, " said the Missing Link. "I've got something here thatwill always reduce him to reason. " Nickie touched his breast. "I say, Matthew, this Chow next door is a luxurious heathen. He's got all sortsof lovely preserved fruits in beautiful juices, and cakes, and gingerfloating in its own gravy, and there is a bottle of Chinese brand underthe counter. Now, Matthew, I think it is a sin to encourage the inferiorraces to indulge in intoxicants. "

"Don't, " cried the Living Skeleton, a ring of anguish in his tones. "Yehknow, it's agin the rules t' talk t' me of things t' eat. It makes mefat. " Poor Matty Cann groaned aloud. "Is there anythin' substantial?" heasked pitifully. 

"Not just now, " said Nickie, "but last night I watched the Chow and hismissus dining on roast duck. You notice there's a door in this partitionjust at the back of my cage. Curious, is it not? Well, I found an oldrusty key in the crack under the wall, and it fits the lock of that door. Remarkable that, don't you think? Now, I shan't be surprised if some ofthose Chow delicacies find their way in here most unaccountably. "

"What's it t' me if they do?" sighed Matty. "I wouldn't dare t' eat 'em. If I did the boss would find I was puttin' on flesh, an' I'd be doin' abunk. "

"But I suppose a drop of Chinese brandy wouldn't entirely spoil yourfigure, my boy. "

The Chinese delicacies did find their way into the cage of the MissingLink, quite a fine assortment of them, also the bottle of Celestialspirits. Ammonia witnessed the process of transference that night, andnearly went mad in his cage, springing about wildly, clinging to thebars, squealing and certainly blaspheming in his peculiar monkeygibberish, and Nicholas Crips sat in his cage, impishly eager to goad hisenemy to fury, and ate luscious figs and fine preserves, while thegorilla strained at the intervening bars and shrilled his anguish. 

After this there were other casual visits to the shop of Kit See, andAmmonia's curiosity concerning the mysterious place from which theMissing Link drew such delectable supplies kept him at the back of hiscage for hours together, peering at the wall, scratching it, and whiningimpotently. 

Evidently Kit See was troubled in his mind, too, for he came into theshow to examine the door in the wall, and finding the cage of the MissingLink right up against it, and the formidable monster sleeping in thestraw, was satisfied that the petty larcenist found access to his goodsin some other way. 

On the Sunday, Nickie and the Living Skeleton walked abroad, seeing thesights of Wangaroo, including a waterfall; a hanging rock, and acemetery, the latter the favourite resort of the elite and fashion ofWangaroo on Sundays. Mat's skeleton proportions were disguised in a longovercoat, and Nickie wore a loud theatrical suit, and a conspicuousclean-shave. He thought he looked like Henry Irving. He didn't see why heshouldn't. 

The company ate a late dinner in a room behind the show that evening. Amiable Madame Marve had prepared an excellent meal, in which theregulation beer and boiled leg of mutton course was relieved of monotonywith vegetables and dumplings. There was soup before and pudding after, and in a burst of gratitude the Missing Link proposed the health of theEgyptian Mystic which was being drunk with enthusiasm in Chinese brandy, when suddenly a great racket arose in the yard, shouts and screams wereheard from the street, and Kit See burst in upon the dinner party, hisCelestial fade pale with terror, his usually benignant eyes round withapprehension. 

"What' for? Wha' far?" screamed the Chinaman at Professor Thunder. "Come!Come! You come dam quick! Monkey he stealem my baby. "

"Wha--at?" yelled the Professor. 

"The monkey cally baby away alonga house-top si'. " Kit pointed to theceiling. He was dancing with anguish. 

The Professor dashed for the caravan cage, and was back in a minute. "It's Ammonia, " he cried, wild with excitement. "He's broke loose. He'sgot the Chinaman's baby on the roof. "

Kit See ran into the street, the Professor turned to follow, but Nickieseized him. 

"Hold hard, " he said, "there's no hurry, no hurry in the world. Let usthink this thing out. "

"No hurry!" snorted the Professor, "and that infernal gorilla waltzinground up there with a live baby?" The Professor's tragic manner wouldhave been the making of a cheap melodrama. 

"Did you ever know Ammonia drop anything he'd once taken a good grip of?The youngster's safe for a while. It strike me we can make a hit out ofthis. How will it read in the Wangaroo 'Guardian': 'Child stolen by agorilla. Rescue by Professor Thunder's famous Missing Link'?"

Professor Thunder stopped with a gasp. "Holy Joseph!" he said, "that's anoble thought, my boy. Can it be done?"

"You get out there and keep the crowd from overexerting itself. Leave therest to me. "

Professor Thunder dashed out by the front door. There was already a largeand vociferous crowd in the road, staring up at the gorilla, gesticulating and yelling, and people were coming running from alldirections. On the side of the road stood Kit See, weeping, andbrandishing his arms helplessly in the face of this grand calamity. Aloft, on the top of one of the chimneys, about three feet above theroof, sat the gorilla. In one of his hind claws he held the baby'sclothing, and the youngster dangled, apparently disregarded by Ammonia, who, despite the terrors of the situation, cut a most ridiculous figure, for he was composedly sucking the milk from the baby's bottle, keepinghis vindictive eyes on the crowd the while. 

"For God's sake keep quiet, " thundered the Professor to the excitedcrowd. "Do not irritate him, and all will be well. " He dragged to theground a heroic Cousin Jack miner who was climbing the verandah post. "Back, man, back, " he cried, "or all is lost. "

The Professor strode up and down with all a heavy villain'simpressiveness and orated. His eloquence was drowned by a greathullabaloo at the next corner, and with a rattle and a yell four firemencame tearing down the road with a hose-reel. Some excited individual had, rung the fire-bell. The firemen attached the hose to a plug, and came on, hydrant in hand. It required all the Professor's energies, supplementedby the frenzied protestations of Kit See, to prevent them turning a fullstream of water on the gorilla. 

The crowd was now a large one, gathered far out on the road, where a goodview of the roof was obtainable, and when the excitement occasioned bythe fire men had subsided, a fresh outburst was provoked by theappearance of another huge monkey, the great bulk of which came up slowlyover the left ridge. The second monkey, which was much larger than thegorilla, sat upon the apex of the roof, jabbered at Ammonia, and thegorilla turned towards him, baring his teeth in a hideous grin of malice. 

"Keep still!" yelled Professor Thunder. "Keep quiet, for the love ofheaven! Mahdi, the Missing Link, will save the che--e--ild! Mahdi, theanimal that approaches nearest to man, captured by me in the dark junglesof Darkest Africa. Observe. "

The gorilla seemed animated with an implacable hatred for the largermonkey. The shades of night were falling, but the people in the streetcould divine this enmity from Ammonia's attitude and his gestures. Hisflat, ugly face was thrust towards the Missing Link. He grimacedhorribly. With his eyes always on Mahdi, the gorilla slowly lowered thebaby to the roof and let it go. The roof was shaped like an M, and thechild rolled harmlessly into the gutter between the ridges. For a momentAmmonia faced the Missing Link, his venomous little eyes luminous asthose of a cat, and then he ran along the ridge. 

A cry broke from the crowd, but when Ammonia was within couple of feet ofthe Missing Link he stopped as if shot, let go his hold, and rolled downthe roof, and lay in the gutter beside the child, limp and inanimate. 

Mahdi clambered down the ridge, took up the baby, and, nursing it gentlyon one arm, came along the roof and down the sloping verandah, andlowered the son and heir of Kit See into Professor Thunder's arms amidsta storm of cheering such as had never been heard at Wangaroo. 

Nickie had predicted rightly. The Wangaroo "Guardian" next morningcontained a thrilling account of the rescue, and in a leading article theeditor pointed out that the humanitarian action of the Missing Link wasproof that it approached nearer to the standard of man than any otherknown animal. 

The enthusiasm provoked by Mahdi's action brought a tremendous rush ofbusiness. In fact, the attention excited threatened to lead to anexposure of Professor Thunder's daring imposition. Leading men wanted tointerview Mahdi; a section of the people of Wangaroo were even talking ofhaving the Missing Link adorned with the Humane Society's medal, andanother section prepared an illuminated address. Eventually the greatshowman left the town in something of a hurry to escape notoriety thatpromised to be dangerous, but he had done a record six-days' business, and was content. 

"But how'd yeh beat the blanky gorilla?" asked the Living Skeleton on themorning after the rescue, as the Missing Link sat in his cage munchingpreserved fruits presented to him in abundance by the grateful Kit See. 

"How do you think?" replied the intelligent animal. "With an ammoniasquirt, of course. When he came at me I squirted a dose into him thatnearly killed him. I'm never without that little weapon, and I think, Matthew really think that we shall teach the gorilla proper respect forthe superior animals before we have done with him. His desire to supplantme in the scheme of evolution is contrary to science, my boy, and adefiance of natural law, and must not be countenanced for a moment. "

CHAPTER XI. 

THE DEFEAT OF DAN HEELEY. 

AT Big Timber Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels had run for severalconsecutive hours to satisfactory business, and was now well on its wayto The Mills, where a great day was expected in view of some localfestivity that meant a general holiday for the mill hands, and a bushcarousal. 

The caravan was drawn up for tea in the moonlit bush by Howlet's jinkertrack. A camp-fire blazed in the end of a butt under a wide-branchinggum. The Professor lay at a distance--for the night was warm--smoking onthe crisp grass. The Living Skeleton crouched near, embracing his leanknees, staring into the fire, thinking fondly of his absent wife andfamily, a furtive tear lurking in the hollow of his cheek, for MattyCann's absurd sentimentality made him a failure as a vagabond. Nickiefussed about gallantly, assisting Madame Marve and little Miss Thunder, who were busy spreading papers for the evening meal. 

Professor Thunder had in Madame Marve a perfect wife for a showman. Inaddition to her value as the Egyptian Mystic, a wonder-worker, and tellerof for tunes, she was chief cook and housekeeper for the whole caravan, but she had a flirtatious disposition, and the attentions Nicholas Cripsoffered in his unprofessional moments were received in a spirit offrivolous appreciation that disturbed the boss showman's complacency attimes. 

"Less of it. Less of it, my boy!" was his deep throated exhortation onsuch occasions. 

All the members of the company had to take a hand in the hard graft andmenial tasks incidental to the upkeep, management and movement of theshow, and neither professional etiquette nor artistic pride could rescueNicholas Crips from the vulgar task of preparing comestibles for themonkeys. But Madame was certainly the most useful artist on ProfessorThunder's salary list, a document preserved with much pride, to beexhibited in bars and such public places for purposes of advertisement, and which represented the Egyptian Mystic as receiving £30 per week. Onthe salary list Bonypart, the Living Skeleton, was rated at £15 per week. He actually received twenty-shillings and his keep. 

"Professional usage, my boy--professional usage!" explained thecelebrated entrepreneur when Matty Cann drew attention to thediscrepancy. "It's always done in the theatrical business. Bless you, youdon't think we pay our Sarah Bernhardts, and our Cinquevallis, and ourPaderewskis and our Peggy Prydes those enormous salaries that get intothe papers. No; no, we couldn't do it, but we are content to let it bethought we do. It impresses our public, Bonypart--it impresses ourpublic, my boy. "

Madame Marve produced bread, butter, pannikins, and the familiarnecessities, brought forward the usual boiled leg of mutton on a lordlydish, large, fat and steaming like a laundry. 

"Encore, encore!" cried the Professor. 

"Hear, hear!" applauded Nickie, clapping vigorously. Matty Cann evenventured an expression of appreciation. 

Madame Marve placed the mutton for the carver, and bowed low to the rightand left, picked up an imaginary bouquet, and threw three kisses tohypothetical "gods. "

"Come, come, Bony, " she said, patting the Living Skeleton on the back, "buck up, man. If my old man couldn't think of me for ten minutes withoutsnivelling, I'd have a divorce. "

Matty Cann smiled wanly. He had no great cause to "buck up, " his share ofthe boiled leg would be very small indeed and entirely knuckle, theProfessor holding that the knuckle end was not fat-producing. 

"It's Jane's birthday this day week, an' little Mat'll be two year oldthe day after. I was wonderin' if I could get a day off t' visit mefam'ly?" said Matty. 

"And fat up over-eating yourself, " said Thunder. "Not much, my boy!"

Matty groaned. "I give you me word I'd eat nothin' but ship's biscuit, "he pleaded. 

"Poor old Bony, " said the Egyptian Mystic. "It's a pity your missus ain'ta bit of a freak, so as we could have her along. Now, if she could eatfire we might find a place for her. Fire-eaters are very popular. Isuppose she couldn't learn to eat fire, Bony?"

The Living Skeleton shook his head gloomily over his poor meal. "I'mafraid she couldn't, " he said. "Jane ain't got any gifts. "

The meal was finished, and the utensils were washed and restored to thecaravan cupboard, a zinc-lined packing case. Professor Thunder was downon his back on the crisp grass again, smoking. He was feeling good, andopened his heart. 

"We'll top off with a touch of old Jamaica, Nickie, my boy, " he said. "There's a bottle in the box-seat. You might lead her out. "

Nickie needed no second invitation. He sprang up with unaccustomedalacrity, and passed out of the circle of light into the bush darkness. He found the bottle in the locker under the driving seat, and steppingdown from the vehicle turned again towards the fire. The extraordinarychange in the peaceful scene he had just left flashed upon him with thevividness of a tableau in melodrama The gifted members of ProfessorThunder's world company were no longer lounging carelessly on the grass, they stood erect, grouped together, their faces, tense with fear andamazement, showing whitey-yellow in the firelight, their hands thrownabove their heads. Facing them on the other side of the fire, with hisprofile to Nicholas Crips, was a short, stoutly-built man, in a coarseblue shirt and corduroy riding pants, with a white handkerchief tiedloosely about his neck. A fine chestnut horse stood behind him. The reinwas looped over his arm. In his right hand this man held a long, business-like Colt's revolver pointed at the group before him. 

It was a fine picture, intensely dramatic, it amazed Nickie, and broughthim up short with a gasp, but it did not appeal to him as an artistparticularly. He stepped sharply into cover of a gum butt. His hand wentinstinctively to his breast where, in a small chamois bag next his skin, he carried a certain treasure the care of which was the one real concernof his present life. 

"See here, " said the gentleman with the long revolver, "the first of you, man, woman or child, that stirs a finger or utters a yelp gets leadpoisonin'. Understand?" He looked round. "This is the whole band?" hesaid. 

Professor Thunder nodded his head. 

"Yes, " said the intruder, "I was at your show at Big Timber, Professor, an' I took trouble t' size up the strength of the crowd. I guessed itwould be an easy thing, and it is. "

"Who are you?" asked the celebrated entrepreneur, much distressed to findhimself in a theatrical situation that was painfully real. 

"Don't ask questions of yer betters, Professor, an' you won't get hurt. Howsomever, yer bound t' hear at The Mills all about Dan Heeley, so Idon't mind admittin' I'm little Danny. "

"Heeley!" gasped Madame Marve, "the man that shot Hollander, the manthat's been sticking up the banks?"

Heeley's brow darkened. 

"Precisely, missus, " he said; "the man the Gov' mint offers £250 quidfor, cash on delivery. " He turned again to Professor Thunder. "I noticedyou was doin' pretty good at Big Timber, mate, " he said, "and I thoughtI'd follow on and pick up a little loose change. Fact is, I want yourcash box, Perfessor, and any little articles of value you don't happen tobe needin' for the moment. "

"I--I've got next to nothing, " faltered Thunder. "Most of my takings wentin expenses. "

Mat Heeley's revolver hand became rigid, his grim mouth, tightened, hischin set itself in prognathous ugliness. 

"You'll send your little girl for that cash box, Professor, " he saidcoldly, "and you'll tell her to gather up any bits and pieces ofjewellery and such like as would please me, and if the collection isn't agood one I'll maybe blow an arm off you, jist as a mark of mydispleasure. As for the rest, if you ain't good I'll riddle the brain-panof one of yeh jist to convince the others that I mean business. "

Professor Thunder was quite convinced; he had not the slightest doubt butthat Daniel meant business. He gave Letitia his keys, and a few words ofinstruction, and the girl went to the caravan, and presently returnedwith the Professor's zinc cash box and a chamois-leather bag containing afew rings and chains belonging to himself and Madame. 

Dan Heeley placed his revolver to his hand on the stump by his side, andtook up the cash box, but the next instant he snatched at his revolveragain, and turned it upon a large, ungainly figure, that loped out of thebush, and stood grinning and chattering where the firelight faded intogloom. It was Mahdi the Missing Link, in full dress. 

"What's that?" demanded Heeley, fiercely. 

The figure leaped about in a foolish way, and rolled on the grass inunwield play. Heeley burst into laughter. "It's that blanky monkey, " hesaid. "D'yeh mean t' say you leave four thousan' quids' worth o' monkeyrun round loose in the bush like this?"

Mr. Heeley grinned amiably, replaced the revolver on the stump, andturned his attention to the cash box once more. That cash box wasdecidedly heavy, but the Professor, whose heart had been in his boots atthe prospect of a big loss, was now tremulous with hope, and watched theMissing Link anxiously. Mahdi scraped and picked at the grass with adiverting show of monkey antics, sniffed at the boiler in which the legof mutton had been cooked, and backed away nearer Heeley, with a yowl ofconsternation as his nose encountered the scalding water. Dan Heeley wasdiverted, he laughed aloud, but he had a cautious eye on his victims thewhile, for all he held them cheaply. 

Mahdi, the man-monkey, sniffed about the stump, and capered foolishly. Helooked with ape-like curiosity at Heeley's horse, then made an impishjump at the animal, grinning and growling savagely. The horse threw uphis head, snorted in terror, and pulled back, dragging Heeley with him, broke free, and bolted into the night. Cursing wildly, Heeley ran for hisrevolver. He ran with his nose on to the barrel of it. 

One was there before him--the Missing Link. The revolver was held inMahdi's shaggy paw, pointed straight at Heeley's head, and the animalgibbered in guttural fury, snarling and showing ugly white fangs. It wasa sight to deter the boldest; it shocked Dan Heeley, the Bold Dan Heeley, who had never trembled at the sight of a living thing--when he had thedrop on it--and he drew up sharply and recoiled a step. 

Then he swore a big black oath, and his right hand went to his hip. Itwas an unwise action; the Missing Link anticipated the evil intention andfired. A second revolver fell from Mr. Heeley's right hand. Dan'sshooting arm was broken. 

The Missing Link advanced with movements and howls significant ofhorrible ferocity. Dan Heeley backed before it, white to the lips. Atthis point the Professor plucked up courage and advanced upon Heeley. 

Dan offered no resistance, his arm was broken, and he was completelyparalysed by the insistence of the monster attacking him. Five minuteslater Dan, Heeley, the Bold Birragua Boy, was securely tied to a tree, with about three fathoms of inch manila, and the Professor's cash box, with its proper contents increased by certain sums that were illegallyHeeley's, was safely bestowed in its locker again. 

"What was the price you said the Government had put on your head, Dan, myboy?" asked Professor Thunder. "Two hundred and fifty of the best? It'smine, Daniel. "

Heeley made no reply; his frightened eyes were fixed on the man-monkeycowering in the shade, with the revolver tight in its right hand. 

"The Missing Link will watch over you to-night, Dan, " continued theProfessor, jauntily. "He's as strong as ten men, so don't try tricks withhim. "

But the Professor did not get that £250. At day-break, to Heeley's greatamazement, the huge monkey cut him free, and made no attempt to resisthis flight. Nicholas Crips had very satisfactory reasons for not beingmixed up in a long, legal ceremonial such as the handing of Heeley overto the police would have entailed. Nicholas remembered a certain strangeadventure in Bigg's Buildings, and his desire was to give the police ofVictoria as wide a berth as the most exclusive officer could possiblylong for. 

CHAPTER XII. 

A CURIOUS MISCHANCE AT BULLFROG. 

PROFESSOR THUNDER freely admitted that Nickie the Kid was by far the bestMissing Link he had ever met. 

"There ain't your equal in the whole profession, my boy, " he said, clapping the man-monkey heartily between the shoulder blades, "and if yougo on improving your interpretation and developing the character, by theLord Harry, I believe it'll be worth our while to do a world's tour oneof these days. "

In consideration of Mahdi's perfections the Professor had twicegenerously raised his salary by half a-crown a week. 

"There isn't a Woolly Man o' the Woods or a Wild Man from Borneo now onthe roads' drawing the salary you are, Crips, " said the Professor. "Twopounds two and six a week is princely pay for a Missing Link. Let me tellyou there are stars playing Romeo and Hamlet that aren't getting suchgood money, my boy. "

Nickie certainly deserved his munificent salary, as he was the best drawin the museum, and was improving the attractiveness of the show weekly, with bright ideas and new schemes for inciting the interest of theProfessor's bucolic customers. It was Nickie suggested the idea of a ridethrough Bullfrog town ship in character. 

"I'm afraid, my boy, " said the Professor, "it's risky--very risky. You'llbe giving the game away one of them days, and once it gets about thatProfessor Sullivan Thunder's marvellous and only-living Missing Link is afake, the metropolitan press will be down on me like a ton of bricks, andI'll come to running a Punch and Judy show at baby parties in my oldage. "

"My dear Professor, have a bit of enterprise, " replied the Missing Link, "we are not drawing well! Bullfrog wants waking up. Run out the caravan, and take a turn through the township, with the cornet playing and meriding ahead on the black mare, and we are bound to make an impression. Get through at a good bat, and they won't have time to look twice at theman-monkey before it's all over. Just a dash through and back to thetent, and we can be under cover again before they're fairly out of theirhouses. I tell you, sir, it will make Bull frog wild with curiosity. "

Madame Marve, the Egyptian Mystic, favoured the scheme, and ProfessorThunder agreed. The caravan was prepared, and Madame Marve, wearing amuch bespangled, but rather seedy, pantomime, fairy costume, stood by thebox seat, playing a lively air on the cornet; Professor Thunder, with aflowing mane of hair and a Buffalo Bill rig-out, drove the horses. Fromthe sides of the big vehicle hung highly-coloured posters, while aboveflared the name of the show in long, red letters. 

The black mare Nickie rode was one of the three hired to drag the Museuminto Bullfrog. She was a rather spirited little beast, and had showngreat perturbation when Mr. Crips, in his full make-up as Mahdi, theMissing Link, approached to mount. Now she cantered ahead at a smartpace, still nervous about the monstrous thing upon her back. The caravancame rattling after, Professor Thunder keeping up a volley of whipcracks, and Madame tooting gaily. 

It was early in the day, and the township had lain drowsing in its dustunder the shimmer of a great yellow sun till this astonishing invasionstruck it, and startled it from its accustomed lethargy. There was a rushto windows and doors, men fell over each other struggling from Harvey'sbar, a sudden mutiny arose in the little wooden school, and childrenswarmed at the windows, and poured pell-mell from the doors. The peopleof Bullfrog caught only a fleeting glimpse of a huge monkey crouchedman-wise on a gaily caparisoned pony, of Madame Marve in her fairycostume, and the gaudy caravan, as the small procession dashed past. 

But Constable Cobb, who was drowsing against the shoemaker's doorpost, saw the amazing thing on the horse approaching as in a dream, andprofessional zeal uppermost in his mind, he dashed into the toad, andgrabbed at the rein. The mare, already much distressed, lost her headentirely at this rude intervention of the law, and rearing high on herhind legs as she beat the air with her hoofs, plunged wildly, and thenbolted, leaving Constable Cobb on the broad of his back, half stifled inthe dust, with the imprint of a horseshoe on his elegant helmet. 

The mare did the circuit of Bullfrog at a furious pace, with the MissingLink hanging about her neck, and slinging to her ribs with insistentheels. Never had Bullfrog experienced such a shaking up. People camerunning in all directions, eager to see this marvellous thing. Thetownship was almost obscured in its own dust, and through the clouds ofher own creating came the little mare, scattering the horrifiedinhabitants, who caught only fleeting glimpses of the huge, hairycreature sprawling in the saddle. 

When Nickie at length regained his stirrups, and worked himself into anupright position, he found the mare racing along a rough road betweenwalls of bush, heading towards Tollbar, whence she had come on theprevious day. 

Nickie the Kid was not expert as an equestrian. So far he had clung tothe horse with desperate tenacity, and now that he had recovered hismental grip to some extent he could think of nothing to restrain theanimal's wild career, but he did think of the awful possibilities of hisposition, one of which was an apparent certainty. The horse would carryhim back to Tollbar, to its owner's stable, the township would be drawntogether by the extraordinary spectacle of a horse bolting through theplace mounted by a gigantic monkey, the fraud would be discovered, andthen the inhabitants would deal in their own gentle, characteristic waywith the man who had been party to Professor Thunder's shockingimposition. Two days earlier Tollbar had patronised the museum. 

These cheerful thoughts occupied Nickie's mind while the mare wasnegotiating about five miles, and wearing much of the wool off Mahdi, andnot a little cuticle off Mr. Crips; but he was saved the dread ordeal heanticipated by another disaster. The mare caught a hoof in a rut and camedown heavily, and presently Nickie recovered consciousness, lying on hisback, blinking at the blue sky, gratified to find that he was not dead. 

The mare was out of sight, and the Missing Link was at large in the bush, with a damaged head, a sprained ankle, a cracked rib, and a pain in everylimb. He arose and shook some, of the dust off himself, and then limpedfrom the road and sat in the shade of a tree, with his back to the butt, to consider his lamentable situation and feel his injuries. 

Nickie's position was certainly an unpleasant one. He could not walk backto Bullfrog, because he would be certain to meet people by the way, andthe sight of a Missing Link prowling in the Australian hush might lead todisaster. In any case, the sprained ankle made a five-mile walkimpossible. Nickie could not strip off his monkey make-up, because of thevery scanty undergarments he possessed. 

"What the deuce am I to do now?" groaned the victim, gently chafing hisbruises. 

He was answered by a shrill scream, an energetic and most piercingfeminine yell of terror, and lifting his startled eyes he beheld a younggirl, clad after the manner of a settler's daughter, standing a few yardsaway, staring at him with wild horrified eyes. The girl's fingers wereclutching her hair, her face was white, her limbs convulsed, she seemedglued to the spot, incapable of movement, but power of screaming remainedwith her, and she exerted it to the utmost--she screamed, and screamed, and screamed again, the bush resounded with the echoes of her agonisedcries. 

For a moment Nickie stared back in blank surprise. It had not struck himthat he was the occasion of this frantic demonstration, but presently herealised that a little screaming was excusable in an excitable young ladycoming suddenly upon a full-grown missing link drowsing under the gums inher native bush. 

Nickie arose, he advanced a step. His intentions were honourable he meantto offer a full explanation, with apologies, but the girl did not wait;at his first movement she swung round and fled through the trees, stillscreaming. 

The Missing Link sat down again with a sigh. Anyhow there must be aresidence near, he was not destined to perish in the bush; but the girlwould rush home with a shocking tale of some hideous monster in thepaddock, her male relations would come to hunt down that monster. Nickiehad had experience of such hunters; he remembered that they carried guns, and that they were not disposed to delay shooting in order to argue witha monkey about the sacredness of life. 

Mr. Crips had a ready mind, and his peculiar career had taught him thenecessity of prompt action. With eager hands he pulled off his monkeyskin, rolled it up, and stuffed it into a hollow log, with the head-pieceand mask; and then with his singlet he rubbed the make-up off his face, rubbing off a fair amount of hide in his eagerness. After this he set towork tearing up the grass tufts, and creating evidence of a struggle. Theblood from a cut in his head came in most useful; he made as big a showas possible with it. Nicholas Crips next lay down amid the ruin he hadwrought. 

Nickie had not long to wait. About twenty minutes later he saw an elderlyman and a youth coming hurriedly through the trees, looking about themeagerly. Each carried a gun. He sat up and beckoned, and they hastened tohim, not a little astonished to find a strange man clad only in tornsinglet and drawers lying there in the depths of the bush. 

"Hullo, mate, " said the elder man, "what's amiss?"

Nickie groaned aloud. "Horrible!" he gasped. "Horrible! Horrible!"

The man raised him. "I say, you've been knocked about, " he said. "Haveyou seen anythin'?"

Nickie nodded feebly. "Yes, " he said, "a monkey, an orang-outang, orsomething, as big as a man. An awful brute. "

"Well, I'm blowed!" gaspe the man. "Then Nell was right. My daughter camehome in a fit; she said a monkey bigger'n me had chased her. "

"It's true, " murmured Nickie. "It chased me. We had a terrible fight. Ittore all my clothes off about a mile and a half back there near thecreek. I escaped, and it chased me here, and we fought again. I thoughtmy end had come, when it must have heard you, and it made off through thebush towards the mountain, going like the wind. "

"By cripes!" ejaculated the youth in an awed voice. 

"Did he hurt yeh much?" asked the man. 

"My ankle's sprained, and I've got a broken rib and a cut head, " answeredNickie; "but losing my clothes is the worst. What is a man to do withouthis clothes?"

"You get up to the house, Billy, and bring down my Sunday things, " saidthe settler. "We'll fix you up all right, mister, " he added, addressingNickie the Kid, and Nickie smiled warily, and uttered feeble thanks. 

They dressed Nickie and took him up to the house and fed him, and thendrove him back to Bullfrog in their spring cart, delivering him into thehands of Madame Marve, who manifested great joy on receiving back theunparalleled Missing Link in fairly good condition. 

Nickie had explained to the settler that he believed the orang-outangthat attacked him had escaped from Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvelsand that he intended claiming damages. 

Later in the day Nickie and the Professor drove out and recovered Mahdi'soutfit from the hollow log, and that evening the Missing Link was againon view, and exciting much interest, although he sullenly refused to anyfurther demonstration for the edification of the people of Bullfrog. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE WIDOW AND THE LINK. 

THE Museum of Marvels was "resting" at Devil's Head. The Professor wasresting, personally and particularly, on a stretcher bed in a small, hot, fly-infested room in "The Devil's Head" Hotel, pending the mending ofdivers injuries sustained in a disaster that put the show temporarily outof action. Thunder did not travel with his own horses, finding it muchcheaper to hire a team to pull his caravan from one pitch to another. Thepair of bays engaged to tow the museum, and traps and wares from FieldHill to Corner Stone had been so upset by the eccentric conduct of afrenzied inebriate, who fled along the stone road in a woman'snightdress, being pursued by purely imaginary griffins, dodoes, unicornsand dragons, all in primary colours, that they wheeled and bolted withthe whole caboodle, and running into a bridge railing upset ProfessorThunder and Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels into Billy's Creek, greatly to the detriment of the show, and to the serious discomfort ofthe Professor who was pulled from under Ammonia, the gorilla, just whenthat amusing animal had almost succeeded in stifling him in the slurryfor which Billy's Creek was famous. 

While the Professor rested and underwent repairs, and whiled his timenegotiating for damages with the owner of the horses and the franticperson in the woman's nightdress, Matty Cann, the' Living Skeleton, andNicholas Crips, the Missing Link, were allowed their liberty. The LivingSkeleton went home to the bosom of his affectionate family, with sterninstructions to carefully regulate his diet, and Nickie went on toWinyip, sworn to preserve professional secrets, and bound to hold himselfin readiness for resumption of duties at a day's notice. 

Nickie wore a good suit of store clothes, he bore on his rascally headquite a reputable hat, his linen was fairly meritorious, his boots wereabove reproach, he wore socks like a man accustomed to luxuries, he wasclean-shaven, he jingled money in his pocket. In his varied career Nickiehad had ups and downs; true, his "ups" had been brief, but they werefrequent enough to keep him almost in touch with respectability. AtWinyip, a considerable township in its way, he passed quite easily for adramatic artist taking rest and change to dissipate brain fag, the resultof too studious application to his art. 

When the Professor was himself again he called his company together anddescended upon Corner Stone. The caravan remained at Corner Stone for anight and a day, and then moved on to Winyip. Nickie the Kid, for somereason of his own, strongly opposed the trip to Winyip; possibly becausehe was reluctant to appear as a mere man-monkey with a demoralised headand a rudimentary tail in a township in which he had recently figured togreat advantage as Crips Nicholas, the eminent Shakespearean actor. 

Winyip proved to be an excellent show town and Mahdi, the Missing Link, came in for a good deal of attention, although his performance was moresubdued than ordinarily, and he showed little of the actor's naturalanxiety to monopolise the limelight, but a local moral reformer wrote tothe "Winyip Advertiser and Porkkakeboorabool Standard" enlaring on theshocking action of a depraved showman in keeping this poor heathen, whichwas "almost a human creature, " confined in a cage like a beast of thefield. The disputation that followed was kept alive by Professor Thunder. 

People flocked to see the wonderful man-monkey, and on the afternoon ofthe second day came a tall, stern woman of about forty. She was nearlysix feet high, her nose was large, her chin small and sliding, and shewore glasses. Across her left arm she nursed a large, shabby umbrella, and her habitual expression was that of one who has discovered a smell ofdrains. 

This big woman was very curious. She peered into every hole and corner, she examined Bonypart, the Living Skeleton, very closely through herglasses, looking critically at his features, and was equally curious withthe monkeys. She even inspected Professor Thunder with such minuteness, and with such an air of one who has at last detected a shamefulimposition, that at length the celebrated showman exclaimed with somegrandeur: "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not an exhibit. "

"Oh, " gasped the female, "I beg your pardon. My name is Martha Spink; Ilive at 'The Nook. ' Do you happen to know a--eh--theatrical person namedNicholas--Crips Nicholas?"

Professor Thunder had learned caution. "I fancy I have heard the name, "he said. 

"You haven't such a person in your employ?" said the lady. 

"No, " said the Professor, thoughtfully, as if mentally running over thenames of numerous celebrities on his long pay-roll. "No, I am sure thereis no artist of that name in my company. "

"I'll find him, " said Mrs. Spink, decisively, firing up, and makingdangerous gestures with her umbrella. "Mark me, I'll find him, and when Ido--" The sweep of her bulky gamp nearly knocked Bonypart off hisplatform. 

"Carefully, ma'am, carefully, " said the Professor, "you came nearbreaking a valuable exhibit then. Living Skeletons have to be handledgingerly, madam. I am sure the ruffian deserves all you can give him. MayI inquire what villain's work he is guilty of?"

"He's been proposin' marriage, that's what he's been doin', " cried Mrs. Spink. "I'm a widder lady, and he's been proposin' marriage to Me. "

"Dangerous, dangerous--very dangerous, " said the Professor. 

The Living Skeleton looked apprehensively to wards the cage of theMissing Link, and Mahdi growled fiercely and retreated into the shadows. 

"He stayed at my house two weeks, " continued the widow, "paid nothing forboard and residence, but made me an honourable proposal of marriage, andthen ran off. But I'll find him. "

The Professor was called away to give his scholarly address on theDarwinian hypothesis for the edification of his patrons, and the fiercefemale hung on the outskirts of the audience, and examined the exhibitssuspiciously. When Thunder came to that scale of creation represented bythe Missing Link, Nickie exhibited great ferocity, growling and gnashinghis teeth in a most terrifying manner, but keeping sedulously to theshadows at the back of the cage. Madame Marve stirred him up with thelong stick kept for the purpose, and the Professor dwelt with feeling onthe worst features of the animal's character. Mrs. Spink peered withespecial eagerness. 

Mrs. Martha Spink paid twice for admission before sundown, and at nightshe came again. She betrayed extraordinary curiosity concerning thecharacteristics and peculiarities of missing links, and her concern had apowerful effect upon Mahdi. His diffidence was so marked that theProfessor was constrained to excuse it in his descriptive address. "Thepoor animal is afflicted with toothache to-day, " he said. "Like the bestof us he has his morbid moments. "

"S'pose she'll be lookin' yeh up agen t'day, Nickie, " whispered theLiving Skeleton through Mahdi's bars next morning. 

The Missing Link snorted. "I wish the Professor would bet out of thishole, " he said. "If that terrific creature discovers the truth, I amlost. "

Nickie had not left the cage all night, preferring to sleep in his skinrather than risk a sudden descent on the part of the enemy. 

"What'd yeh do it fer?" said the Skeleton; "a great lath-an'-plastershe-emu like that, too. "

"Not having anything else to do, Matthew, " moaned the Missing Link. "Ialways was tender with women. "

"Well, yiv gotter look out, ol' man. If she nails yer, yer a gone link, that's er cert. "

"For two pins I'd retire from the profession, " said Nickie. "It exposes aman to too much temptation. "

The lorn widow did not appear that morning. The afternoon passed, andMrs. Spink had not been heard from. There was a good crowd in athalf-past eight, and Professor Thunder was giving his instructive andentertaining description of the life and habits of the Missing Link inthe dark jungles of Central Africa. The Link had recovered confidencesomewhat. He ventured to show himself at the front of the cage, hecapered and gibbered, and at that point where Thunder dwelt upon thecourage and fierceness of the man-monkey in fighting for his young, Nickie jumped forward, clawing through the bars, and utteringblood-curling growls. 

At that moment his eye fell upon a face that thrust itself forward out ofthe press; his gaze encountered the eager scrutiny of a grim, green eye, behind glass. It was the eye of Widow Spink. 

"It's him, " cried the widow. She rushed for ward; she battered at theMissing Link with her umbrella, and the terrified animal retreated to hisstraw. "You villain!" screamed Mrs. Spink, "you double-dyed, lyin'villain, I've got you!" She was reaching as far as possible through thebars, prodding at the man-monkey, and the audience were gazing in stupidsurprise. 

"Madam, madam, my dear madam!" expostulated the Professor, "you must notirritate the animals. "

He pulled her back from the cage. 

"Don't tell me, " cried the justly-indignant widow. "I know him I'd knowhim out of a thousand, robber of the widow and the orphan that he is. "

The Professor spoke to her soothingly. 

"There, there, madam, do not excite yourself, you'll be all right in themorning. "

"Meanin' I'm drunk!" shrieked the widow, raising her ginghamthreateningly. "I know what I'm talking about. He promised me marriage. "

She made another lunge at the Missing Link. 

"Yes, he did; he said we'd be married in a fortnight, the villain, andI'll have the law on him. "

"Most distressing hallucination, " said the Professor, pressing Mrs. Spinkthrough the crowd. "Will nobody take charge of the poor lady?"

He pushed her towards the door, the crowd following, delighted with theunexpected diversion, confident that Mrs. Spink was drunk or mad. Thewidow retired, fighting, the people pressing her. 

"I'll have the law on him, " screamed Mrs. Spink. "I'll have a thousandpounds damages for breach of promise. I'll teach him, deceivin' a lonewidder, the villain!"

Outside she enlarged upon her wrongs, telling the crowd of the infamousconduct of these actors, who go about the country imposing upon innocenceand virtue. She went off, still flourishing her sturdy gamp, andreiterating her determination to have the law on the infamous MissingLink. 

"That widow means business, Crips, my boy, " said the Professor after theshow; "somethin's got to be done. She swears she'll see a lawyer, and shewill. Now look here, I can't have my Missing Link dragged into a lawsuit. If you get sued for breach of promise, you're no good to me, thegame's up so far as missing links are concerned, and my show's reputationgone. Is this to be the end of a long and honoured public career? What'sto be done?"

Madame Marve, Letitia, Matty Cann, Nickie, and even the educated pig satin council to consider ways and means of averting the pendingcatastrophe, and Nickie bore the fierce rebukes showered upon him withproper humbleness. Never was seen a more depressed and humiliated missinglink. 

The next day was Sunday and in the morning, dressed becomingly in hispart as the naturalist and teacher, Professor Thunder called upon theWidow Spink at "The Nook, " and held a long consultation with her. As aresult of the Professor's arguments, the lady was persuaded to visit theMuseum of Marvels and have a private audience with the Missing Link. 

The widow said she was going to town to see a lawyer on Monday morning, but agreed to Professor Thunder's proposal, and called on the MissingLink in his cage. 

"I think, madam, you will admit that you are mistaken, " said theProfessor, at the door of the cage, "and will see that you have cast aserious aspersion on the character of an innocent animal and thegenuineness of a reputable museum. " He stirred up the huge, hairy bodylying in the straw in the Missing Link's cage. "If you come inside thecreature may attack you, but you are welcome to do so. "

Mrs. Spink, after looking closer at the hideous head the Professor liftedout of the straw, and brought close to her own at the back bars, decidednot to enter the cage. She had a painful impression that perhaps she wasmistaken after all. 

"I admit, madam, that we build the animal up to some extent to make himlook large. That is a mere showman's trick, and innocent enough initself, but I am determined to convince you that this is a genuineman-monkey, as your story has done me much mischief in my profession. Pray look closely at the beast. "

Mrs. Spink did look closely. There was not the slightest doubt that theanimal she beheld, although somewhat faked, was one of the monkey tribe. She confessed her error, she became contrite and tearful, and promised anapology if the Professor would not persist in his threatened action fordefamation of character. 

"I was told the wretch was seen with your company, " said the tearful Mrs. Spink. 

When the widow was well out of range, Nickie crept from the tent of theEgyptian Mystic, and breathed a great sigh of relief. 

"I shall probably never make love to a widow again, " he said, sadly;"they are so ungrateful. "

He was dressed in his ordinary clothes, and the creature in the MissingLink's cage sprang towards him spitting and clawing spitefully. It wasAmmonia, the Gorilla, in the Missing Link's skin, padded and faked totwice his size to deceive a poor, weak woman. 

"I believe after all we ought to frighten something in the way ofcompensation out of the gorgon, " said Nickie, vengefully. Our reprobatehero was a man who knew no remorse of conscience. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

MARDI HAS A NIGHT OFF. 

PROFESSOR THUNDER was hurt in his professional pride by the signalfailure of his Museum of Marvels in Rabbit township. In the first place, the great impresario had been guilty of a grievous blunder in selectingRabbit for a two-night's pitch, but things had been going so remarkablywell of late, due mainly to the eccentric adventures of the Missing Link, that the boss was getting proud, and was beginning to feel that hisastounding galaxy of unparalleled attractions would draw well in the deadcentre of the Old Man Plain. Rabbit township was making his error plainto him. 

Usually when the caravan bounded into a township, with the little bellson the horses jingling gaily, and Madame Marve, dressed in a somewhatbrief and too youthful costume, enthroned on the box seat, playing arattling tune on the cornet, the people turned out in crowds to welcomeit, and the children swarmed, eager for a peep at the hidden mysteries. 

It was different at Rabbit township. 

The caravan dashed into Rabbit with the customary velocity and theregulation rattle, but Rabbit did not trouble itself. 

"Blarst my eyes!" growled the Professor, when the camp was made; "eventhe dogs didn't bark! What sort of a boneyard is this we've struck?"

As a matter of fact, Rabbit was a moribund township. The rabbits hadeaten up the surrounding country, and now they were beginning to eat upthe township. So voracious was bunny that when a man went missing it wasgloomily concluded that the rabbits had eaten him, and the township tookno action, subsiding in despair. Most of the people had left. Those whoremained did so because they couldn't afford to shift, or because theywere too lazy to go. 

Professor Thunder had been doing good business, and his expenses werelight. He could afford to play tricks, but he played a foolish prank intrying to amuse Rabbit township. Rabbit was incapable of being amused. 

There remained an open hotel at Rabbit, and the Professor called on itsproprietor to gather useful information concerning the inhabitants, theirtastes and habits. He found Schmitz, the portly proprietor, sprawling onhis own bar counter, embracing a bottle of squareface with a loving hug. The two arms of Schmitz caressed the bottle, his cheek was pressedamorously to the cork. The eye of Schmitz was small and round, and seemedto be filled with pink cobweb, his hair was in a state of tumult, and wasfull of chips, suggesting that he had recently slept on the wood heap. Schmitz had a fierce, red moustache, that looked as if it had beentrimmed on a block with an adze. 

The publican blinked stupidly at the world-famous showman for a moment, trying to pick him out from a number of unnatural curiosities careeringbefore him, and then he said, decisively: "Ged oud of mein 'ous'. "

"My dear fellow, " said the Professor, urbanely, "I suppose you will serveme with some little refreshment?"

"Refreshmend?" muttered the landlord. "Refreshmend?" His intellectstruggled to grasp the situation. Suddenly it became luminous. "Nein!" heyelled. "I vill nod you mid refreshmend serve! Nein! I keep him all formeinseluf. Ged oud!"

"But, Mr. Schmitz, " expostulated the Professor. 

"Ged oud of mein 'ous'. I know vot you want, ain't id? You want to buymein liquer. Veil, I don'd sell some liquer to nopody. Der ain'tsufficiency for mieinseluf. Ged oud! Tam you, ged oud kvick!" Schmitzcaught up a bottle in quick rage, and dashed it at Professor Thunder. 

The Professor pursued his investigations no further. The tent waspitched, the museum was arranged for an afternoon performance, and theunrivalled showman, to whose enterprise Rabbit owed this chance ofimproving its mind and enlivening its leisure, took his stand outside, and endeavoured to awaken the township to a sense of its opportunities. For three-quarters of an hour he poured forth a stream of eloquence atthe top of his pitch. After the first quarter of an hour he wasappreciated by a tired dog, which drifted up, and barked at him in adesultory way. Later, he was becoming discouraged when a tattered youth, wearing a hat that nearly engulfed him, came and stared at himopen-mouthed, stupidly, silently, for twenty minutes. This youth was thetownship idiot. Nobody else troubled to come out and see what all thenoise was about. 

"We're got to shake up the township, Nickie, " Thunder said. 

"Well, go out and shake it, Professor--I'm tired. "

"No, Nickie, you've got to do the shaking. See here, the place is dead. Idon't believe it ever heard of Professor Thunder and his world-famousMissing Link; I don't think it has discovered that anything unusual hashappened along. You must escape from your cage to-night, and scare thelife half out of some of these miserable mummies, then I'll come alongand recapture you. That should excite some curiosity, and perhaps bringin money to-morrow'. "

Nickie yawned lazily. "Oh, all right, " he said, getting back to hisstraw; "but mind there are no guns. I've an objection to being huntedwith guns--it's too wearing. "

That night a large, hairy animal of a species hither to unknown atRabbit, made its way along the deserted main street of the township. Theanimal walked upright, like a huge monkey, its long hands swung below itsknees. Mahdi had not gone a hundred yards when a large, stout man lurchedout of the shadow of a tree and fell upon him. 

The large, stout man smelt strongly of consumed drink. He clasped theMissing Link to his breast for a moment, then swayed back, holding onwith one hand. In the other hand he flourished a bottle. 

"Goot day, mein bruder; how are you?" he gurgled. Nickie growled his mostterrible growl, and the stranger made some little show of surprise. "Votis it der madder?" he said. "Blitzen, dot's a peaudiful winter overcoadvot you year mit der summer. Come'n haff er drink. " He held the bottletowards Nickie the Kid. It was a bottle of square gin. All kinds ofbottles were fascinating to Nickie. 

Mahdi faltered. Nickie was very partial to square gin, and although theMissing Link had a proper sense of duty, the inner man was weak. 

"Helup vourseluf, Sharlie, " said Schmitz. 

Nickie helped himself. He helped himself liberally. Schmitz fell onMahdi's neck, and embraced him freely. "Mein goot friend, " he gurgled, "Ilike you. You shplended fellow. Dot's so, sure. Come mit me, my 'ous' to, und ye make a night mid it. " He embraced Nickie again. 

"All der same, " he said, in a puzzled tone, "I don't know me vy you veardot hairy overcoad dose hot nides. Haff er drink. "

The Missing Link, standing grimly outlined in the darkness, raised thebottle in his two prehensile paws, and drank health to Schmitz. 

"Goot man, " said Schmitz, embracing him again. "Now con mit me to my'ous' to, und we make the night. " He grappled with Nickie, and the twoseesawed towards Schmitz's hotel. The place was in complete darkness; thebar door was wide open. 

Schmitz dragged Nickie through the bar, with much bumping and morebreaking of glass, into a back compartment, and there he fumbled formatches, forgot his mission, and sang a German song very drearily, stopping suddenly to say:

"Vere haf you gone mit yourseluf, mein goot friend? Vot is der madder mitder lightness. "

He fumbled again. Nickie was in no hurry, he had the gin bottle. 

Schmitz found the matches, and lit a candle on the shelf. He turneddrunkenly towards Nickie, and beheld what must have been a strange andmysterious sight to a commonplace Dutchman in his own home. Sitting on achair facing him, with the gin bottle raised to his lips, was a mightymonkey--a great, red, hairy ape, as large as a man. 

The publican scratched his head wonderingly. 

"Mein gracious!" he said. 

"Dot iss a sdrange ting dot haff happened mit you, Sharlie, " he said, ina wondering, small voice. 

"Sharlie!" he called. "Sharlie!" The Missing Link gave no reply. 

"Pless mein soul!" gasped the Dutchman. 

Suddenly a gleam of intelligence shot through the publican's boosy gloom. He pointed a finger straight at Nickie, lurched towards him, crossed theroom in a stagger, and drove his inquiring digit against the mysteriousvisitor. The mysterious visitor was solid. 

Schmitz was beaten. 

"Sharlie, " he said, "is it true dot you vos, or is it true dot youaind't?"

Nickie offered him the bottle in a friendly way, and Schmitz took it anddrank. The draught seemed to abolish all problems. 

"Now ye make dot night, Sharlie, " said Schmitz. He staggered into thebar, and returned with an armful of bottles--all full of liquor. With theadroitness of an expert he knocked the head off a bottle of schnapps. "Dot is for you, Sharlie, " he explained. The Missing Link assumedpossession. 

Schmitz knocked the head off another. 

"Dot one for me iss, " he said. 

Then the night began. The Dutchman drank and sang and danced, and ahundred times assured the Missing Link of his undying friendship. True, he had occasional spasms of reawakened amazement, when he would gaze atthe man-monkey in stupid wonder, saying: "I don't understand me, Sharlie, " but Nickie's extremely human manner of disposing of gin seemedto reassure him, and he would burst into song again. 

In due course Nickie grew jovial, and lost all sense of his make-up andhis professional reputation, and he sang, too, and caper exuberantlyabout Schmitz's kitchen, while Schmitz, reclining in a corner on thefloor, shook his fat sides with gargantuan roars of laughter. The sightof this gigantic ape dancing a Highland Fling stirred the drunkenDutchman to wildest merriment; he howled with delight. 

"Goot, goot! Some more Sharlie!" he yelled. "Dance, dance. Mein Gott, dot's der greadest sight I effer haff see me. "

This was the strange and awful spectacle Mrs. Schmitz tumbled upon, returning from a week's stay at Rattletrap. Her screams brought thered-headed stable boy to the rescue. 

Two minutes later, while Mrs. Schmitz was assuring one section of Rabbittownship that her poor, miserable husband had sold his soul to hell, andwas at that moment dancing fiendish dances with the devil himself in herkitchen, a red-headed youth, almost beside himself with horror, wasstirring up the other section with the tale of Dutchy Schmitz howling madin the hotel, while a great, hairy, hideous jim-jam capered on the floorbefore him. 

Rabbit was stirred at last. Professor Thunder was made unpleasantly awareof the fact when he discovered a crowd of patriots surrounding Schmitz's, preparing to burn out the devils that possessed it, having peeped timidlyat the windows; and assured themselves of the unearthly nature ofSchmitz's guest. 

The Missing Link, with Schmitz on his arm, came rolling from the backdoor, roaring and brandishing a bottle. The crowd broke and fled beforethem, and a minute later the bosom friends were rocking down the roadtogether, singing insanely. 

How to recapture Nickie was the showman's real trouble now. He knew thatpersuasion would be useless with Nickie in his present state, andresolved to try force. He grappled with Nickie in the street, and Nickie, now feeling like a king in his own right, and valiantly asserting hismajesty, resented this impudent interference, and fought with fine, royalspirit. For a moment or two Dutchy failed to realise the situation, andthen, roaring like a bull, and swinging a bottle of stone gin, he went atthe Professor. 

The bottle took Thunder in the back of the head. It ought to have killedhim, but it didn't--it merely stretched him on the road unconscious. Whenhe recovered he was on a couch in the hotel, with his head wrapped in atablecloth, and day was breaking. No body knew what had become of Dutchyand the Missing Link, and the Professor returned to the tent, with a soulseething bitterness. He found Nickie in his cage, sleeping soundly, andalongside him on the straw lay the bulky form of Schmitz, the publican, in whose hand was still clutched a bottle of stone gin. The Missing Linkhad returned hospitality for hospitality, and side by side like brothersdear the carousers slept. 

CHAPTER XV. 

HOBBS VERSUS MAHDI. 

IT was shortly after noon, and the day was warm and still. No one wasstirring in Waddy. Professor Thunder had given up the idea that hiseloquence could conquer the general lassitude, and was snoring in thetent of the Egyptian Mystic. Madame Marve was shopping in the township, and Matty Cann, the Living Skeleton, had come down from his throne andwas curled up on a horse-rug. Ammonia, the orang-outang, sprawled on thefloor of his cage, and the other monkeys were chattering angrily. 

Nickie sat with his back to the wall of his compartment, sweltering inthe hot garb of the Missing Link, drowsing and day-dreaming of beer. Hethought he was sitting in a sylvian glade, with an attendant nymph, wherea cascade splashed over crystal rocks, and the cascade was beer--allbeer. 

"Ello there!" said a thick voice. Someone was shaking the bars of thecage. "Get up and do some thin', blarst yer eyes! What have I paid yehfor?" continued the voice. 

Tish had taken sixpence at the door, and admitted a patron without givingdue warning to the exhibits. It was a rule that the public was not to beadmitted to the Museum of Marvels without proper notice being given tothe company. The precaution was necessary to obviate the chance of theEgyptian Mystic being discovered in the act of preparing onions for thestew, or engaged upon some other menial task, to the destruction of herdignity and mystery as a distinguished foreigner with supernaturalpowers. Or the people might have come upon the Missing Link in heateddebate with the Living Skeleton, or in the hearty enjoyment of a longbeer, or possibly reading a sentimental novel. 

Nickie bared the long tusks of his mask in a malignant grin, but did notstir. He couldn't be expected to waste his arts and graces on a commondrunk. 

The man rattled the bars of the cage again. "'Ello! 'Ello!" he cried, "shake yourself up! Le's see what yer made of. Get goin'. Give us aspecimen of yer arts. "

The Missing Link yawned hideously, stretching his long hairy limbs, andblinked his little eyes at the visitor. 

"Tha's not so bad, " growled the man. "You're a bit of an artist, anyhow, but I reckon you ain't nothin' t' some of the Missin' Links I've comeacross in my time. I've been in the business myself, so you can't monkeyme, my man. "

Nickie sat up, growled in his best style, and scratched with the dulllaziness of a tired ape. 

"'Ere, 'ere, " cried the man, "'ere, 'ere, Bravo! Not too rotten That'sfirst rate monkey business, take it from Ivo Hobbs. Let me interdoosemyself. Mr. Mahdi. Ivo Hobbs, late o' Kitts and Killjammer's Whole WorldShow. "

Nickie walked along the back wall of his cage two or three times withsimian ungainliness, turning with a peculiar spring that Mr. Crips hadlearned from the Orang. 

"Good enough!" said. Ivo Hobbs. "Good enough. There's no ticks on you, you're a stoodent, I can see. How's the game mate?"

It was necessary to convince this beery intruder of his grievous error intaking Professor Thunder' celebrated Missing Link, Mahdi, from thetangled jungles of Darkest Africa, for a cheap fake. Nickie sprang to theperch with great agility, caught it with one hand, slowly drew up a leg, hooked a hind claw to the bar and hung so, blinking unconcernedly. 

"What oh!" said the audience, with enthusiasm. 

"That's a bit of all right. You're a husker. But there ain't no reasonfor this reticence with a brother professional. I was the bearded womanwith Kitts and Kiljammer's show for over two years, I was Shake, mate. "The visitor thrust a hand through the bars. 

Nickie dropped from his swing, landing lightly on four paws, ambleddaintily across the cage, ran up the bars, and seated himself on a limbpropped in a corner. 

The audience applauded generously. 

"Bli' me, " he cried, "you're a fool t' waste them talents on a side showlike this. You orter hitch on at one o' the great circuses. "

Nickie slid down the rope and resumed his leisurely scratching, prospected his ribs for a few seconds, and then made a sudden dash atAmmona, the orang, grappled with him through the bars, snatched away alittle fur, and maintained a fierce scratching and snapping squabble forhalf a minute or so. 

This was one of Nickie's most effective bits of business. Whenever heheard an audience casting doubts on his authenticity as a genuine memberof the monkey family, he work up a spluttering dispute with Ammonia andthe battle was so realistic that it dispelled all doubts. 

"Well I'm jiggered. " murmured Mr. Ivo Hobbs. "I could have sworn he was afake. " He pressed more closely to the bars, and peered at Nickie with acritical, if somewhat beery eye, and the Missing Link posed languidly ina monkey attitude. Suddenly Ivo jabbed at him with a stick. The stick waspointed, and it took Nickie in the ear. 

"Hell!" cried the Missing Link, bounding across his cage. 

Ivo burst into a roar of laughter. "That's all right, old bloke, " hesaid. "You're a bonzer, but we all have our weak moments. "

Nickie was furious. This assault, combined with the heat and burden ofthe day, had dispelled his natural apathy. There was always a loose barin the front of his cage, placed there for effect, so that the MissingLink might work up an occasional sensation by an apparent attempt tobreak away. Nickie dashed at this bar. It broke before him, and he camethrough, falling bodily on Ivo Hobbs, and bearing him to the ground. Ivouttered a yell of apprehension. His beery doubts seemed to fly beforethis animal attack, and when he realised that he was being bitten andclawed mercilessly, he howled for help at the top of his voice. 

Professor Thunder rushed from his slumber, and discovered his MissingLink and a total stranger rolling and tumbling on the ground. By thistime Nickie had inflicted no little grievous bodily harm upon the unhappyIvo, and he allowed Thunder and the Living Skeleton to drag him off, andthrust him back into the cage. 

Ivo arose in great wrath. 

"This is unprovoked assault and battery, " he cried, shaking his fist atthe Missing Link. "I'll have the law on you. "

"But, my dear sir, " protested the Professor, "you must have provoked thepoor animal. "

"Animal be blowed. You can't jolly me. Think I don't know a fake when Isee one, I'll have him run in in half a tick. "

Professor Thunder endeavoured to argue with Ivo, and hinted atcompensation, but the injured man fled from the tent in a state of blindanger. 

"Let him go. " said the Missing Link, vindictively. "He won't come back, He's had all the damages he wants. "

But he did come back. Ivo returned in a quarter of an hour and he broughta policeman with him, and on their heels came quite a crowd, ProfessorThunder, with business-like precision, charged a shilling a head to allseeking' admission. 

"There he is!" cried Hobbs, "There he is!" He pointed to the Missing Linkgrowling viciously and baring alarming fangs at the back of his cage. "Igive him in charge for grievous assault and attempted murder. "

"Come, what's all this, me friend?" asked Constable Dunne, addressing theProfessor. 

Hobbs had evidently had a few more beers to restore his faculties. He wasnow courageous enough, but vague in his mind and unsteady on his legs. 

"The man irritated my Missing Link, and the animal attacked him, as hedeserved, " said the celebrated showman. 

"Animal be blowed!" yelled Hobbs. "He's 'a man, and I give him incharge. "

"Nonsense!" laughed the Professor; "The fellow's drunk!"

Constable Dunne peered at the Missing Link through the cage, and thatintelligent animal never looked more malignant. 

"A man" said the officer, dubiously; "sure, he ain't lookin' it. "

"Arrest him!" said Ivo Hobbs. 

"Devil a wan o' me, " answered Dunne. "You'd better proceed by summons, meman. 'Tain't me juty to arrist monkeys, an 'twould not be becomin' t'the' dignity iv an officer iv th' law, anyway, t' be seen draggin' abaste iv thim proportions through the street. "

Mr. Hobbs protested indignantly, and beerily, but the constable explainedthat according to a strict reading of the Act, dogs were not liable toarrest, "and in the oye iv th' law, " he said, "monkeys is dogs. "Eventually, Ivo Hobbs went away in Constable Dunne's company to take outa summons. The policeman endeavoured to persuade him to summon ProfessorThunder, as the Missing Link's next of kin, but Hobbs stood drunkenly tohis belief that the monkey was a man, and so the summons was made outagainst Mahdi, and was solemnly delivered, citing the Missing Link toappear at the Waddy Police Court on the following morning at 10 o'clock. 

"Here's a pickle, " growled the proprietor of the world-famous Museum ofMarvels. 

The Missing Link scratched his head over the document. "I'm nothing of alawyer, " he said, "but I've had a good deal of experience of policecourts, and never knew a monkey to be proceeded against for assault--infact, nothing lower in the animal kingdom than a Chinaman is amenable tothe law. "

As a result of a long conference, Professor Thunder went out that eveningand cultivated the acquaintance of John Lidlow, J. P. John Lidlow, Esq. , J. P. , was the local butcher, and Professor Thunder found him a verycompanionable man with an amiable weakness for raw whiskey. Affectionately they made a night of it, and in the morning they had amutual pick-me-up. The pick-me-up was concocted of knock-me-down rum andcolonial beer, and ran into several editions. 

John Lidlow, Esq. , J. P. , was uncommonly sleepy and preternaturally solemnin court when the case of Hobbs versus Mahdi was called on for hearing. Ivo Hobbs explained his grievance clearly, and when the defendant wascalled upon, Professor Thunder stepped forward and explained:

"The defendant, Your Worship, is my justly-celebrated man-monkey, Mahdi, the Missing Link. "

"Is he a man or a monkey?" asked the court, drowsily, opening one eye. 

"He's a bit of both, but mainly monkey, Your Worship. "

"It's a lie, he's a man, " cried Hobbs. 

"Silence in the Court!" said His Worship, with portentous hauteur, "orI'll give you ten days for contempt. The defendant must be brought beforeus. "

"But, Your Worship, " exclaimed the Professor, "it would not be safe, Iassure you, The animal is wild. He was irritated by this man, it wouldnot be safe to take him from his cage. He might attack the court. "

"Eh, what's that?" ejaculated the magistrate. "Attack the court? We don'tallow that kind of thing here. I'd give the beggar twelve months. "

Constable Dunne whispered to the court, and Professor Thunder enlargedupon the shocking temper of the Missing Link when roused. 

"Very well, " said the Magistrate, "if he cannot be brought to this court, the court will go to him. Justice must be done. This court standsadjourned to Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels. "

Very gravely John Lidlow, J. P. , led the court to Professor Thunder'stents, and sedately he established himself behind a table before the cageof the Missing Link, and again the case was called on. 

"The Missing Link pleads guilty, Your Worship, " said Constable Dunne. Professor Thunder whispered to him. "Through his next iv kin, YerWorship, " continued Dunne. 

"With extenuating circumstances. Your Worship, " said the Professor. "Thisman attacked my Missing Link with a stick. "

The Missing Link at this moment bounded against the front of the cagewith a blood-curdling growl, making seemingly frantic efforts to get atIvo Hobbs. One of the bars broke before his terrific onslaught, andthrough the apperture Mahdi snatched and snapped at his adversary ofyesterday, growling horribly the while. 

With a 'ell of terror Hobbs fled into a cement barrel. 

The Missing Link flopped from his cage, and advanced upon the J. P. 

The sight so upset the court in the person of John Lidlow that it sat fora moment, staring in blank horror across the table set for itsconvenience, then slowly tilted over in its chair, and fell heavily onthe back of its neck, picked itself up, and made a bolt for the open. Atthe tent door the court turned for a moment, and cried breathlessly:

"Fined five shillings or two days, " and then it dashed out and away. 

Professor Thunder paid the fine with the greatest goodwill, consideringthe advertisement an ample recompense. Besides this presentation at courtwas a useful testimony in support of the his claims of the Missing Link, and the Waddy Bugle's grave account of the trial under "Police CourtNews" was added to the archives of the Museum. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE KIDNAPPERS. 

LOO was a small triangular township, subsisting on agriculture, roadtraffic, and the patronage of thirsty shearers and station hands fromruns within a half-day's ride of Sawyer's "Emu Hotel, " which was theincisive point of the triangle. 

Thunder's tent was pitched on a small clearing facing the "Emu Hotel. "and Professor Thunder, clad somewhat after the manner of the bushrangerin lurid Australian melodrama, in high boots, cord trousers, a red shirt, and an immense cabbage-tree hat, stood on a borrowed rum keg at the doorof his show, and earnestly besought Sawyer's customers to visit hisunrivalled show and complete their education. 

"Roll up, gents, roll up, roll up, roll up!" cried the Professor, in avoice keyed to stir the whole town ship. "Bring your families to learnhow man sprang from the ape, and when the ape's got claws like mygorilla's he shows his good sense in springing. Walk in, walk in, walkin, all together, one after the other, and witness the most miraculousperformance of Madame Marve, the Egyptian Mystic, converse with theeducated pig, and behold for the first time the amazing Missing Link, thewonder of the universe, the only true authentic Missing Link now incaptivity, certified correct in every particular by the great Darwinhimself, and approved by all the crowned heads of Europe. "

It was Saturday noon, and the township of Loo was rapidly filling withconvivial shearers. The sheds were cutting out at Dim Distance, Devil'sBend, and the Emu, and the men were full of money, and eager for beer anddiversion. 

When a score or so had collected inside, the Professor came down from hiskeg, and assumed the office of lecturer, explaining the quaint physicalpeculiarities of Matty Cann, and the intellectual eminence of theeducated pig, and then passing to his trump card--the Missing Link. 

"Here we have, gentlemen, " he exclaimed, "a living exemplification of thetruth of the teachings o the great Darwin. Behold the descent of man inall its stages, from the smallest ape that capers on the rockydeclivities of the Himalaya Mountains, to the noble Missing Link himself, having the splendid proportions of the human man, and almost his god likeintellect. "

One party of four young shearers from Devil's Bend exhibited greatinterest in Mahdi. 

"D'yeh mean t' say that animal's worth four thousan' quid?" asked one ofthese. 

"Four thousand seven hundred pounds, fifteen shillings, is the exact sumwhat was offered me by the Anthropological Society of Berlin, " said theProfessor, "but I wouldn't part with him for ten thousand. "

The shearers marvelled together, and watched Mahdi's movements with deepattention, and Nickie, acting up to instructions, glowered in the shade. When a visitor wanted to look into details, the Missing Link displayedquite human astuteness in retreating into cover in the gloom. 

"Suppose he's like us in most iv his ways?" continued Bill. "Does hesmoke, 'r chew, 'r drink?"

"Its considered by the faculty and all the scientific gents that proof ofhis being a near relation to the human race is found in the fact that hehas a weakness for intoxicating liquors, " said the Professor, sadly. "We've tried to reform him, but he refuses to become teetotal, showinghow much a man he is. "

Bill and Ben and Mike and Fred applauded these sentiments. Then theyreturned to the Emu bar and had another drink. 

"Four thousan' bloomin' quid fer a blanky monkey!" said Bill, and helooked dreamily at his companions. "Four thousand quid!" he added. "It'sa sin. "

"Now, supposin' that monkey was to get away! There'd be four thousan' o'th' best tearin' round in th' bush fer anyone t' drop on. "

"He couldn't, " said Mike, "outer that iron cage. "

"He could, " said Bill, "if he was helped. " Ben, Mike and Fred woke up. They looked hard at Bill. Bill had a grave, still face. He winked hisleft eye suddenly. 

"If he did escape there'd be a reward. I reckon, " said Ben. 

"Precisely, " said Bill; "there'd be a reward. Now, if that Missin' Linkcould escape--if helped--and if there was a reward offered fer hiscapture, what's t' prevent us earnin' it?"

The shearers looked at each other gravely. Then they all winked. 

"The spoutin' bloke sez he likes his fill iv tangle, " said Bill, "wellhe'll get it t-night. I'm goin t' stand a spree fer me poor relation. "

That night at about ten o'clock, when Professor Thunder was concentratingthe attention of his patrons on the fascinating boniness of Matty Cann, Nickie, who was taking his ease on the straw, became aware of a slightdisturbance at his elbow, between the back of his cage and the tent wall. Blinking his eyes he discovered the shape of a man in the darkness. Theman held a pannikin in one hand, and was offering it through the bars. 

"Here, old boy. Here old fellow, " murmured the intruder, in a tone oneadopts in propitiating strange dogs. 

He shook the pannikin, and the Missing Link detected the familiar flavourof rum, good red-rum, bush rum. Nickie sniffed again, and backed away, growling a low, guttural growl. The Missing Link had a great tendernessfor rum, the smell of it excited profound longings, but he wanted time todeliberate. What was the game? "These fellows have heard Thunderdescribing Mahdi's fondness for liquor, " thought Nickie. "They want tomake him drunk, and see him play up. It's a lark. Shall I encourage them?I can do it safely to a moderate extent. It's like flying in the face ofProvidence missing drinks that are thrown at you. I'll encourage them tothe extent of one drink, anyhow. Here's luck. "

The Missing Link seized that pannikin of rum, the Missing Link took agood, long pull, and in less than half a minute was curled up on thestraw, dead to the world, a thoroughly hocussed man-monkey. 

When Professor Thunder came to shake up his justly celebrated Link, hefound the cage empty, and a bar wrenched from its place in the back wall. He drew his own conclusions--conclusions most unfavourable to Mahdi--andused his own language. He closed his show, and went raging about Lootownship in quest of his stray freak. 

Nickie the Kid awakened from a death-like sleep in the early hours of awarm summer Sunday. Dawn steeped the bush in crimson, the smoke of adying camp-fire curled high in the air and its top most spiral caught thered glow of the young sun. About that camp-fire, twisted on their rugsand blankets on the grass in the quaint attitudes of out-door drunks, layfour shearers, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Fred. Near them were scatteredvarious bottles, all empty. 

Nickie rubbed his eyes with his hairy paw, and stared at the recumbentfigures. His head seen as capacious as an iron tank, and every inch of itheld a special and independent ache. The Missing Link was trying tothink. 

Understanding came in a flash. He had been stolen from the show. Theserascals had given him hocussed rum, and had got him away, probably tiedto one of the horses. His aching limbs hinted at that, and he could seethe horses grazing among the trees. 

Nickie reviewed the situation. He was tethered to a tree, his bonds werestout, and his captors had not made sufficient allowance for the almosthuman intelligence of Professor Thunder's star performer. All about werescattered the utensils of a late supper, and with the aid of a stick theLink contrived to draw a knife within reach. With this he promptly cutthe rope. 

When free Nickie went quietly and deliberately to work to overhaul anopen swag. He took a coat, pair of trousers, a pair of boots, and a hat, and with these under his arm retired to the bush to make his toilet. 

An hour later three shearers, Bill, Fred, and Ben, riding at a gallopalong the high road to Loo, came upon a man with a bundle walkingcheerfully in the same direction. The horsemen pulled up. 

"Hi, mate, have you seen anythin' of a strange sort of animal on thisroad?" cried Bill. 

"Have I?" answered the man. "My word, I have! A great, big, red, hairybunyip 'r somethin' charged out o' th' bush 'bout a mile back, bowled meover an' went howlin' down th' road in a cloud o' dust. "

"Which way?" gasped Bill. 

The pedestrian pointed in the direction of Loo. "That's th' way he went, "he said. "Cripes, I'd a' thought I seen a fantod on'y I bin teetotal fera year. "

The shearers whipped up, and rode on at a gallop, and the man grinnedafter them with exquisite joy. "Well, life's worth living after all. "said Nickie the Kid. 

Before Sunday night it was known at Loo that the Missing Link, which hadbeen stolen or had escaped, was once more safely bestowed in ProfessorThunder's Museum, and when the show opened on Monday there was somethinglike a run on it. With the curious crowd came Bill, Ben, and Fred, Mikehaving been left to keep camp. At the sight of the shearers before hiscage, the Missing Link simulated a paroxysm of ungovernable rage. He bit, glared, roared, and reaching his mighty claws towards Bill, mademurderous sweeps in the air, as if desirous of disembowelling thathapless young man. 

"That's curious. " said Professor Thunder, regarding the shearer sternly. "My Link don't often go on like that, and when he does he has goodreason. See here, young gentlemen, what did you have to do with thepurloining of my man-monkey Saturday night?"

Bill protested fiercely. "Never put a hand on yer blanky monkey. Wouldn'ttouch him with er forty-foot pole. "

"Well, he as good as says you did. "

Bill grinned. "You can't send a bloke up on th' say so of a Missin'Link, " he said. "You can't put a monkey in the witness box t' swear aman's character away. "

"I don't know, " said the Professor. "That's a delicate point of law, butwe may as well have a word with the constable about it. "

The shearers didn't stay to take part in the consultation with theconstable--Professor Thunder had not expected them to. "They lit out in agreat hurry, " he explained to the Missing Link at lunch time. "With a bitof engineering I might have shaken a few pounds out of them in the way ofcompensation. I was too hasty. Now, we'll have to leave their punishmentin the hands of heaven, and there is no money in that. "

"Heaven has punished them already, Professor, " said the Missing Link, with a wide, simian smile. 

"How that?"

Nickie's smile deepened. "There was eleven pounds in the pocket of thetrousers I borrowed to come home in, " he said. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 

THUNDER'S Museum of Marvels was showing at Wildbee, and doing onlymoderately, much to the Professor's disgust. 

Nickie the Kid was hurt, too, at the scant attendance. 

He had been acknowledged by experts to be the best Link ever exhibited inAustralia, and Links included all sorts of hairy freaks, wild men of thewoods, and shaggy eccentrics from Borneo; but Nicholas Crips could notrest satisfied as a mere interpreter of monkey character. 

Nickie reached out and developed, and his newest device was a dinner inthe cage, an actual dinner, in which Madame Marve, bewitchingly dressedin a costume that was a cross between the uniform of a hospital nurse andthe garb of a French peasant girl, acted as waitress, and the MissingLink figured as the diner. Actual edibles were used, and a "practicable"bottle of beer. 

This turn gave the Living Skeleton great concern. "I wish yer wouldn't doit, Nickie, " said Matty, from his pedestal next the cage of the MissingLink. "Et's awful tryin' to a pore bloke what ain't 'ad nothin' ferdinner but a dry biscuit t' 'ave 't sit 'ere, patient as an owl, whileyou're hoggin' into ther grub, an' pourin' fresh beer into yersellregardless iv expense. "

"Get out, " replied the Missing Link. "Call yourself an artist. Every pro. Has to suffer for his art. You have to suffer for yours, going short inyour eating so as to keep in proper condition. You wouldn't have a fellowartist sacrifice his chance of becoming celebrated just because it isn'tquite pleasant to you to be a spectator at the banquet?"

"Art he blowed!" said the Living Skeleton. "Give we a yard o' tripe an' ascoopful iv mashed potatoos. "

"You aren't cut out for a public career. Matty you ought to abandonLiving Skeletons and get a good eating part. "

"Wish t' 'eaven I could, but there's ther missus an' ther kids t' thinkof. "

"Well, you can turn your head away when the banquet scene's on. "

"What if I do; can't I smell it?"

There was no escape--poor Matty Cann had to be sacrificed to therequirements of art. 

Professor Thunder spread himself to make the new act a success; heprocured a clean tablecloth, and napkin, a crush hat and black opera coat(both second-hand) were purchased for the Missing Link. A table, a chair, crockery, edibles, a bottle of beer, a walking stick, and an eyeglasswere the rest of the properties. 

When the Professor had explained to his patrons his gallant capture ofthe only living Missing Link in the jungles of Darkest Africa, and hadput Mahdi through his paces, to the great amazement of the bucolicaudience, he said:

"And now, ladies and gents. I have the pleasure of introducing to yournotice an entire change of programme, exhihiting Mahdi, the Missing Link, in his wonderful act, called 'Civilisation. ' You have, seen, ladies andgents, this here astonishing animal showing the natural qualities of thebrute creation; you will now be privileged to see that side of his naturewhich approaches more nearly to humanity. This act, I may tell you, ladies and gents, though a miracle of training, would not have beenpossible if wasn't that the Missing Link has a good deal of human naturein his composition. "

After this the opera cloak was handed in to the Missing Link, and he putit on with awkward, monkey movements; he donned the crush hat, put theeyeglass in his eye, and with the walking' stick promenaded the cage withsome uncouth affectations of humanity. Meanwhile, Madame Marve hadcarried the small table into the cage. She spread a cloth, put on a fewarticles, and offered Mahdi a chair. 

The Missing Link sat down, took off his hat, and closed it. Then heexamined the bill of fare, and pointed to an item. While Madame wasfulfilling the order Mahdi lounged in his chair, playing with theserviette, which he took from the ring, and spread on his lap. 

After this Nickie went through the process of ordering and eating adinner, the aim being to do the thing not too humanly, but as a trainedanimal might do it, throwing in a good deal of coarse humour, at whichthe audience roared. 

The turn was a success, the spectators applauded vociferously. 

"Ladies and gents. I thank you, " said the Professor, bowing. "You havewitnessed a triumph of teaching and training over brute animal nature, and I hope that when you go out you'll speak well of a show that has beenin some measure the victim of a hireling press here in Wildbee. "

"A marvellous performance, indeed, " said a thin, shabby, sandy man, coming forward with a notebook. "Almost miraculous. "

"True for you, sir. " said the Professor eyeing the man suspiciously. 

"Perhaps you can tell me. Professor Thunder, what branch of the Simianfamily this--this creature of yours belongs?"

"Well, " said the Professor, "he is said to be most closely connected withthe gorillas. "

"Nonsense, man! Gorilla, rubbish! Look at that pelvis, sir, look at thosearms. That's no more a gorilla than I am. "

"May I ask to whom I have the honour of speaking?" asked the Professor, in his coldly polite manner--his most superior professional attitude. 

"My name is Andrew McKnight, if that's any good to you. If that is agorilla, sir, where are his vertebral processes, tell me that? And howcomes it that his legs are almost as long as those of man?"

The Missing Link, who had doffed his airs of civilisation, and was nowcrouched in the straw, began snarling at this. It seemed almost as if Mr. McKnight's criticism were making the poor beast angry. 

"You must remember, sir, that this animal is not of any known species, "said Professor Thunder, who had a large collection of stock phrases forsuch discussions. "He is in a manner a creature apart. "

"I should say so. Would you permit me to take cerebral measurements ofyour so-called Missing Link? I am interested in this matter, havingopposed the Darwinian hypothesis for many years. "

Here Mahdi's snarling became diabolical, and he leaped about in aterrifying way. 

"Certainly, " said the Professor, "Certainly, Mahdi is always at theservice of science. But I warn you he is apt to be treacherous withstrangers. He almost tore the arm off Professor Fitzpoof, of Dresden, andhe nearly disembowelled a doctor in Dublin in 1895. "

"Oh, " said the gentleman with the notebook, doubtingly, "in that case Ihad better not, perhaps. "

Mr. McKnight did not go away for some time. He lingered, watching Mahdiwith great curiosity. He came back in the evening, too, and hung aboutthe museum for hours. The Professor observed him with growing resentment. He suspected the intentions of the sandy man, and he was not wrong. 

Next day, shortly after the show opened, McKnight came again, with thesame notebook and the same suspicious air. He brought five men with him, all solid men in Wildbee, one of them the local constable. This partyassembled near the cage of the Missing Link, and listened carefully whilethe Professor reeled off the familiar story of the taking of Mahdi. Theywitnessed the stirring and entertaining dinner, and when the Professorhad finished, and Mahdi had resumed his conch in the straw, McKnightstepped forward. 

"And do you expect us to believe all that rubbish, Professor?" he said. 

"I do, " said Professor Thunder, with dignity, "but I don't care if youdon't. "

"Well, we don't, sir, and what's more, we know you to be an impostor--arank impostor--and as editor of the Wildbee 'Guardian, ' it is my duty toexpose you and your shameless fraud upon the public of this town anddistrict. "

At this the Missing Link came out of his straw, growling, and springingto the perch hung by one hand, with his legs drawn up in a verymonkey-like attitude. 

"What the deuce do you mean?" thundered the Professor, manfully. 

"I mean this, " said McKnight, addressing the crowd "you have beenvictimised. That creature is no monkey. It is a human being of somekind. "

Nickie the Kid felt his heart sink, but he made a big bid for popularity. He capered about the cage and thrusting his face through the barsjabbered excitedly. 

"You're talking rubbish, man, " cried the Professor. 

"Am I?" retorted McKnight. "Then perhaps you will have the audacity totell us you have a monkey that can talk? Last night I crept under yourtent at the back there when there were no people in the show, and I heardyour absurd Missing Link talking, and what's more, he was teaching amagpie to talk. "

The Missing Link here made a fierce jump at Ammonia, who happened to beclinging to the dividing bars, caught him, and clawed viciously. Ammoniaclawed back, and they fought a yowling battle that went a long waytowards modifying the impression created by McKnight's remarks. 

The Professor was consternated for a moment, but the diversion Nickie hadcreated gave him a chance to collect his wits and presently he began tolaugh. He laughed uproariously. He clapped the Living Skeleton gaily onthe back. "Laugh, you idiot!" he hissed, under his breath. The LivingSkeleton laughed, and Madame Marve joined in the seeming merriment. Shedid not know why, but it seemed advisable. 

"Well sir, " snorted McKnight, "you've finished that idiotic cackle, perhaps you will explain how a monkey comes to be acquainted with theEnglish language. "

"Certainly, " said the Professor, cordially, "I might prefer to kick youoff the premises, but I will explain. Mahdi!" he called imperiously. "Forward, Sir. "

The Missing Link turned from his argument with Ammonia, and lurched tothe bars. 

"I have not been able to teach my Missing Link to talk, though I've triedhard. He can do almost anything else, but not that. However, I dare saywe can get him to address this intelligent audience. Mahdi, you see thisnice gentleman here. " Professor Thunder pointed to McKnight, "What do youthink of him?"

"I think he is an ass!" said the Missing Link, with emphasis. 

At this there was a yell of delight from the crowd, and even McKnight andhis party were astonished. 

"There, " cried McKnight, "what did I tell you? What does that prove?"

"You hear, Mahdi?" said the Professor; "the gentleman wants to know whatthat proves?"

"It proves I know an ass when I see one, answered the Missing Link. 

"You daylight robber! You unblushing fraud!" yelled McKnight. 

"Stay, " cried the Professor, with dignity. "Is it possible, sir, you havenever heard of the art of ventriloquism? I am a ventriloquist. The voiceyou heard was my voice thrown into the mouth of the Missing Link. In thisway we are teaching a magpie to speak to the man-monkey as a new featureof my marvellous entertainment. As to your libellous accusations, sir, you will probably hear further on that point from my solicitor, and nowgood-day. "

"Be me sowl, this bates cock-fightin', McKnight, " said the constable. "Th' monkey's right, Mack. Sure, it's an ass yiv made iv yersilf thisday. "

When McKnight and his party had gone, and the museum was empty ofpatrons, the Professor mopped his brow, and drew a great breath. 

"It's lucky we were prepared for that emergency, " he said. 

"I dunno, " said the man-monkey; "why shouldn't a Missing Link talk, anyhow?"

"Look here, Nickie, you're wantin' to be too talented, " said theProfessor. "Your overweening ambition will ruin everything. Why, bless mysoul, you be wanting to shave clean and have a vote presently. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

AN ADVENTURE AT 'TWEEN BRIDGES. 

"BONY, my friend, I am weary of this, " said the Missing Link. 

The Living Skeleton, who had been drowsing on his chair, beat the fliesoff and groaned. 

"So'm I. " he replied, "but what's a cove t' do?"

"Sneak my key out of the Professor's tent, and let's go and have a dropof something. "

"It ain't t' be thought of, Nickie, " said Matty Cann, "where'd my livin'be? The Professor ud give me the run, an' there's the missus an' thekids. "

"No fear, he can't pick up Living Skeletons at every Street corner. Living Skeletons are rarer than you think. Why, a man of your physiquecould get a Living Skeleton billet almost anywhere. What you want is alittle more impudence and self-respect Matty. An artist like you ought tobe able to make his own terms, and not be tied up like a calculating dogor a two-headed calf. "

"D'yeh think so?" said Matty, eagerly. 

"Of course I do. Now, you just pinch the key of my cage. We'll trot outand have a drink. No one will be a penny the wiser. "

It was early in the afternoon of a midsummer day. Professor Thunder'sMuseum of Marvels was on show at 'Tween Bridges. The show was open forany casual sixpence but business in agricultural centres is dead at thishour, and the Professor and his wile slept in the tent of the EgyptianMystic, and Miss Letitia, who was doorkeeper at the outer tent, overcomeby the heat and burden of the day dreamed of that splendid time when shewas to be acclaimed queen of the bare-back riders of all nations andgenerations. 

Nickie thirst had been nagging at him for two hours past. He alwayscontended that the Missing Link's skin was provocative of a greatdrought. He pleaded with Matty, the bone man, appealing artfully to hisprofessional pride, for Bonypart loved to feel in exalted moments thathis position as the living skeleton was not insignificant after all. 

"We can slip on overcoats, trot over to the Bridge Inn, have a drink, andreturn before the Professor wakes. " whispered Nickie. 

"I couldn't trust meself near th' counter-lunch. Nickie. I couldn't, " Matreplied. 

But in the end the Missing Link had his way. Bonypart pulled on trousersand coat over his tawdry tights, Nickie turned back the ingenioushead-piece and mask of Mahdi, the man-monkey, so that it hung between hisshoulders, donned an overcoat and a pair of the Professor's knee boots, and the two slipped under the tent, and made for Peter's Bridge Inn, onthe outskirts of a dusty township. 

An hour later the Missing Link and the Living Skeleton were sitting underthe pile bridge a mile above the township, with a bottle of whiskybetween them. Bonypart was eating bread and cheese with an avidity whichdemonstrated the abandonment of all professional instincts. NicholasCrips was drinking whisky slightly diluted with creek water. His drinkingcup was a rusty sardine tin. 

Two hours later the Living Skeleton and Mahdi, the man-monkey, snoredside by side in the shade of the bridge, the creek rippled at their feet, the sun blazed on the bushland on the left and right, and the whiskybottle stood between them. 

Meanwhile, Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels was decorated with aplacard, reading:

"Closed on account of illness in the family. "

Professor Thunder himself was racing about the township and through thesurrounding scrub, seeking his missing exhibits, fearing the worst, andpromising himself the satisfaction of a terrible vengeance when he laidhands on the recreant pair. He knew that Nickie had gone off in his skinas the Missing Link, and realised the danger of a possible exposure. Tocommunicate his loss to the people of 'Tween Bridge would practicallymean giving the game away. At the inn he had been given a description ofthe two strangers who had refreshed themselves with three long beers, andthen bought a bottle of whisky and certain edibles, and taken the road toOne Tree Hill. Thunder recognised the description, and his languageshocked Peters, the publican, who had once been a sinner and the championbullock driver of the Western District. 

"Bread and cheese!" groaned the Professor, as he thrashed about in thescrub. "That Living Skeleton 'll be as fat as a pig. "

At about ten o'clock that night Dan Reynolds, riding from One Tree Hillto 'Tween Bridges, and thinking of Annie, the Cockie's daughter, whom hehad left at the slip-rails, was amazed at a terrible apparition thatarose before him on the moon-lit road. It was a strange, shaggy creature, half monkey half-man, covered from the top of his head to the knees inthick, crisp, tufted hair. 

Dan's horse snorted and, came back on his haunches, remaining so for anappreciable space of time, sitting up, glaring at the curious monsterwith dilated eyes and inflated nostrils, and Dan clung to the nag's neckand glared too, even more astonished than his horse. 

Never had Dan Reynolds beheld such an animal, never had he heard of itslike, the horror of it out did all the fabled bunyips and Tantanoolatigers he had ever dreamed of. It was loathsome in its ugliness, caperingthere in the dust, brandishing a whisky bottle in the air, and utteringquaint, half-human yells and strangest feature of all, Reynolds noticedthat it wore high, piratical hoots, coming well above the knee. 

Dan uttered a yell of mortal fear, Dan's horse gave a snort of terror, and bounding forward bolted at top speed down the track, rattled over thebridge, and dashed into Peter's yard, tearing down a gate and upsetting awater-butt in his rash flight, and Dan clung to his neck all the way, tobe brushed off when the terrified steed climbed into the stable over halfthe door. 

The racket brought rush of men from Peter's bar. They gathered DanReynolds out of the garbage, and carried him into the kitchen. After along beer Dan was able to describe the bunyip he had seen in themoonlight on the One Tree Road. 

Costello said it was a true jim-jam; he knew the breed well. He asked tobe put on to the brand of whisky Reynolds had been drinking. 

"Jim-jam, be jiggered!" cried Reynolds. "By ripes, I ought t' kno ajim-jam when I see one, I've met plenty. Tell yeh, I'm ez sober ez aturtle, an' I seen bin with me own naked eyes, not three yards off, jumpin' round on th' road, howlin' somthin' awful an' shakin' a bottle inthe air. "

Peters thought it might be a bunyip. He had heard of a bunyip in PigCreek. 

Then Watkins had an inspiration "By gum, " he cried, "I know what!" Heturned eagerly to Reynolds. "'Bout my height was it?" he said, "withreddish hair all ever him, an' long arms reachin' to his feet almost?"

Reynolds nodded, "Yes, yes, " he said, "it's Perfessor Thunder's Missin'Link from the show up back o' the school. I was in there--I seen him. He's a terrible-lookin' big monkey, next to a man. The show's closed, an'the Perfessor's' bin huntin' all over th' place after some-thin'. That'swhat--it's his Missini' Link fer a quid. "

Reynolds gave further explanations, there was more excited talk, and thenWatkins suggested an expedition to capture the monster. 

"You can bet the showman 'll be glad to pay a bit t' have him back. Hemus' be scared about losin' him, else he wouldn't have kep' it dark. It'll be a lark, an' it means drinks round at least. "

So it came about that a party, armed with guns and club and carryingstrong ropes, started out from the Bridge Inn, under the guidance of DanReynolds, to capture the Missing Link, supposed to be at large in thevicinity of McCarthy's paddock. 

Nickie the Kid had awakened from his slumber under the bridge, hadpartaken further of the whisky, then divesting himself of his overcoatand replacing the mask and head-gear of Mahdi the man-monkey, had goneforth into the bush to proclaim his kingship to the trees, and awaken theechoes of the hills with Bacchic song. He was enjoying a song and dancenear the spot where Reynolds came upon him, when the hunters discoveredhim. The sight filled them with proper awe and great discretion. 

Mahdi looked a truly formidable brute, capering there in the shadow ofthe gums, and his cries, stifled and made animal-like by the mask, addedto the qualms of the Party. 

Nickie saw the hunters on the chock-and-log fence ready to retireprecipitately should he advance with homicidal intentions, and a vagueidea that he was performing professionally before an attentive audiencetook possession of his bleary mind. He capered fantastically, and made afoolish attempt to climb a tree. Then he jumped up and down like a monkeyon a stick, throwing out his long arms, and growling ominously. 

"By cripes, he's er dangerous beggar, " said Scott. "He'd tear yer limbfrom limb. Better cripple him. I think. "

Scott raised his gun and fired. Fortunately, Scott was nervous, andmissed, but the miss was a narrow thing, and Nickie heard the ping of thebullet and the plunk as it buried it in the bark of the tree behind him. 

Suddenly a spasm of comprehension came to Nickie, despite the whisky, andhe made a leap the gum-butt, and hastily entrenched himself. He was beingfired at, and it was neither pleasant nor healthy to be fired at, thatmuch he realised. He peered, monkey-like, from behind the tree, and madean effort to grasp the situation. Scott was taking aim again. 

"No no, " said Watkins, "we mustn't kill him unless it's necessary. He'svery valuable. The Professor says he's worth a matter o' four thousandpounds. Let's scatter an' surround him, come up on him from all points, an' knock him out with the sticks. Scott and Peters holdin' their gunsready t' pot him if he gets hold of anyone. "

This plan was adopted after some argument, and the party of huntersscattered, and commenced to close in towards Mahdi, the man-monkey, goingvery warily. Nickie had forgotten everything by this, however, andsitting with his back to the tree was drowsing, and faintly assertingthat he was a king, the most mighty and dazzling' of all monarchs knownto man, when the valiant hunters fell upon him. 

The rush came suddenly, and in a twinkling half-a-dozen clubs werebattering at Mahdi's unhappy head and thumping on his unfortunate ribs. Every man wanted to get a lick at the monster, and every man got it. Luckily, Nickie's skull was thick, and the Mahdi head-dress offered itsome protection, otherwise there would have been an instantaneous andfatal termination to the artistic career of Nicholas Crips. 

As it was, Nickie's senses were battered out of him, and within a fewminutes, he was so bound round with rope that he looked like a hugeCocoon. Two saplings were cut, and suspended between these, and borne onthe shoulders of eight men, the Missing Link was carried back through thetownship of 'Tween Bridges. The hunters shouted jubilantly, fired theirguns, and yelled triumphant songs as they went, and the whole of theinhabitants turned out and made a triumphal march of it, pressing forwardto see the monstrous ape dangling between the saplings. 

So Mahdi, the Missing Link, was brought home to the Museum of Marvels. When Nickie was dumped on the floor of the tent, Madame Marve screamedbelieving he was dead. 

"We shot him first, " Watkins explained, "an' then we got at him with oursticks. "

"Great heavens!" gasped the Professor, thought of manslaughter flashingupon him. "You might have murdered him. "

"He might 'ave murdered us, " replied the veracious Watkins, "Why, hisstruggles was somethin' awful, an' he roared like a lion an' bit an'tore. It took ten of us t' down him, an' then he bit through Orton's leg, all' knocked Billy Tett sick and 'epless. I reckon it's worth a flyer, mister. "

"But if he's killed--if he's killed!" cried the tremulous Professor. 

Thunder and Madame Marve carried Nickie into he Mystic's tent; the cutaway the ropes that were choking him, and discovered that although goryand bruised, he still lived and breathed, and then the Professor, alwaysquick to seize, an opportunity, stood the hunters a whole barrel of beer, and till well on to daylight 'Tween Bridges was agitated by drink andreiterations of the sensational story of the capture of the man-eatingMissing Link. 

At sunrise, Bonypart returned to the show, contrite and trembling for hisbillet, and by this time Nickie the Kid, his bruises painted with iodine, and his battered head liberally patched with court plaster, was sleepingoff the effects of his overdose of whisky. 

The truants had to be on duty early that day, for the story of the escapeof the man-monkey and, his capture by the heroes of 'Tween Bridgesbrought people from all over the district to inspect the marvel, butMadhi remained on his straw in the dark recesses of his cage, stiff, soreand filled with bitterness, while Professor Thunder explained to his awedpatrons the animal's amazingly human viciousness, his love for drink, andhis utterly depraved nature. 

"D'yeh think I'm fallin' into fat. Nickie?" whispered the LivingSkeleton, from his pedestal that evening. "I ate an awful lot o' cheese. "

The Missing Link shook his head and groaned. "Next time I get tight Iwon't do it in character, " he said, "my realisation of the part is tooconvincing. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE LINK'S LAST APPEARANCE. 

IT is not forgotten that Mr. Nicholas Crips was a man of amatoryinstincts; he had a very warm if not particularly sincere regard for thesex, and in his brighter moments, when a relapse from his naturaldilatoriness induced him to have a clean-shave, a perfunctory combing, and a general trimming-up, ladies of a certain class approaching themiddle-ages found him not wholly forbidding. 

Nickie's close application to an artistic career as the leading featureof Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels had lifted him out of what hadbecome an habitual impecuniosity, and in his brief unprofessional momentshe wore a whole suit and boots that did not openly advertise his socklesscondition. 

In addition, Nickie was leading a fairly fat and easy life; he had put oncondition; he was quite at his best; and a flirtatious matron might havefound him a fairly presentable person. Madame Marve, the Egyptian Mystic, was a good wife to Professor Thunder, and a good mother to Letitia, according to the lights of show people at the conventions of the game, but she was still young enough to appreciate genuine admiration, and hadsufficient of the vanity of the profession to roll a lively, dark eye foreffect now and again. 

Naturally, the lively, dark eye rolled in Nickie's direction once in away, and Nickie responded with the beams of a tender, grey orb. He had away of languishing a little when only Madame Marve was near, and hebreathed sighs of simple eloquence. 

Mr. Nicholas Crips had the primitive instincts of the pure individualist;fine notions of honour and delicate concepts of propriety had noinfluence on his modes of conduct. 

It may be inferred in these circumstances that Mr. Crips had nocompunction, about coveting his neighbour's wife. 

Madame Marve had a light heart and a plump waist, She did not takeNickie's advances very seriously, but she found a certain piquancy in thesituation, and was not above a reciprocal sigh or a responsive handpressure. 

This unlooked-for development in the internal economy of the Museum ofMarvels might have provided Professor Thunder's patrons some amazingnovelties had they been permitted peeps behind the scenes. For instance, there were occasions when the public was deaf to Professor Thunder'sappeals, and resolutely passed by on the other side. On such occasionsthe Egyptian Mystic might have been discovered in the small, back tent, with white, well-shaped arms bare to the shoulder, busily engagedfabricating an Irish stew for the evening meal. The Museum was verypartial to Irish stew, even the Living Skeleton liked the smell of it. Ten to one the Missing Link would be found hovering about Madame at sucha time, garbed in his simian costume, but with the mask-like make-upturned back, exposing Nickie's florid countenance and rakish grin. Possibly at such moments Nickie would presume to squeeze Madame's waist. He might even venture to steal a kiss. If so, Madame's protest might beforcible, but it would not be vindictive. 

Madame was not disposed to quarrel with Nickie; he was a profitableadjunct; the Museum had never possessed so versatile a missing link, and, as for a little philandering--pooh, it was all in a lifetime. 

The tents were pitched at Catcat. The situation was similar to thatdescribed above, but Professor Thunder had the bad taste to intrude whenNickie was in the act of forcibly extracting a kiss in revenge. MadameMarve having playfully covered him with flour. 

Professor Thunder was a jealous man, and an inflammatory one. He uttereda roar that would not have discredited the Missing Link in its nativejungle in the wilds of Darkest Africa. 

"You infernal blackguard!" he yelled. 

"Now, Jim, " cried Madame Marve in sudden alarm, standing between the menwith her paste pin. 

"Out of my way, woman!" cried the Professor, tossing her aside. 

Professor Thunder fell upon Nicholas Crips, and smote him hip and thigh. He was not content to smite--he kicked. He kicked hard--and often. Hisfury increased with the measures he took to wreak it. 

"Jim! Jim!" pleaded Madame Marve, "you'll ruin the skin. "

The Missing Link's skin was an expensive item, but the Professor forgothis cupidity in vindicating himself as an outraged husband. He continuedto kick, and then, taking Nickie by the scruff and the back, he rushedhim from the tent, and pitched him headlong into the garish day. 

There were a few youths and half a score of children loitering about. Fortunately, the mask-like structure covering Nickie's nose, cheeks andchin, had fallen into place, and what the loiterers saw was infuriatedman kicking a gigantic monkey, and assailing him with vehement profanity. The sight was sufficiently amazing. The children fled, screaming, tocarry the astonishing news through the township. The youths stood off andyelled. 

The Missing Link rolled to some distance, and backed against a tree. 

"Don't show your nose inside my show again, you dirty crawler!" said thegreat entrepreneur. "If you do, by the Lord Harry, I'll break every bonein your body. "

People were coming from all directions, and a small crowd had alreadygathered from the adjacent houses. The inhabitants of Catcat drew as nearas they dared, and gazed in open-mouthed amazement from Thunder to theMissing Link. 

"I'll teach you to come creepin' and sneakin' into a man's home, tryin't' ruin his happiness, " the Professor roared, and he made another dash atNickie. 

The Missing Link slipped round the tree, and Madame Marve caught herhusband, by the arm and dragged him hack. 

"What's he done, mister?" asked a bystander. 

"What's he done?" bellowed Thunder, the actor instinct in him coming outstrongly. "What's he done, sir? This infamous scoundrel has tried towreck my home, sir, to blight my peace of mind. "

"What, th' bloomin' Missing Link?"

"Yes, sir, the perfidious Missing Link; the ungrateful Missing Link thatI warmed in this bosom, and that has turned and stung the hand that fedhim. But now I know all, the villain is unmasked, and if the slimy trailof the serpent enters the abode of peace again, by Heaven! I'll beat thelife out of him. "

A crowd had now collected, and when Madame Marve dragged her husband intothe tent all attention was turned upon Nickie, who cowered against thetree, his mind busy on a way out of the peculiarly unpleasant situation. Thunder was still storming inside, and presently he reappeared, andhurled an armful of shirts, boots, trousers and other human habilimentsinto the air. These were the belongings of Nicholas Crips. 

The people of Catcat maintained a respectful distance, not knowing forcertain what so formidable an animal might do next. 

"Better mind out, " said one youth; "he bites! He bit the bloke inside. Didn't yeh 'ear him say?"

On the whole the attitude towards the Missing Link was hostile. It wasfelt that here was a dangerous brute at large. Several armed themselveswith stones and sticks. Inside Professor Thunder was still raving todrown Madame's rational arguments. Twice he burst into the open withfresh invectives for Nickie, and some trifling piece of dress or propertyto hurl at him; but Madame Marve and the Living Skeleton hung on hiscoat-tails and dragged him back. 

Nickie had a thought of lifting his mask and letting his humanity beknown to the crowd, but there were many present who had paid to see theshow, and these might take it into their heads to resent the imposition. Besides, Professor Thunder might relent. On the whole, it seemed betterto await developments. Crouched against the tree, the Missing Linkglowered at the people. If they came too near, he bared his fangs andgrowled ominously, and the venturesome ones backed away precipitately. 

Somebody threw a clod of earth, and it smote Mahdi on the side of thehead. The Missing Link sprang towards the crowd with a fearful cry. Hisantics were most alarming. The people ran, but they edged back again, andanother clod thrown. Then came a stone. A second stone hit Nickie on theshin, and with a yell of pain he took cover behind the butt. 

There was a burst of laughter from the crowd, and a rush for stones. Missiles fell about Nickie in a shower. Suddenly the situation hadassumed a dangerous complexion. The crowd opened in a circle to get atthe monster; stones rattled about his head. 

With a horse cry, with eyes rolling and teeth bared in a shockinggrimace, the Missing Link dashed at the spot where the circle wasweakest, broke through, and went bounding up the township's singlestreet. 

Believing now that the great monkey was afraid, the crowd trooped afterhim, yelling as they ran, snatching up stones and other missiles from theroad. Terror lent wings to the Missing Link. He raced up the dusty roadin the white heat of a blinding summer day, and the stones flew about himas he ran. 

Those of the inhabitants of Catcat who had had no hint of the partialdisruption of Thunder's unparalleled show ran to their doors, and beheldthe hunt with speechless wonder. They saw a huge, monkey-like creaturespeeding up the street, pursued and pelted by a clamorous throng. 

Nickie's physical condition was not good, he was ill-trained for afootrace, his wind was bad; he felt that he must presently succumb, andthen Constable Daniel Mack loomed before him as a possible saviour. 

Constable Mack had stepped from Hogan's store, drawn forth by the yellsof the pack. He looked and beheld a terrific creature rushing towardshim, erect like a man, but covered with thick, short, reddish hair, anddisplaying a face of demoniacal ugliness. Constable Mack had his goodpoints; one of them an appreciation of the fact that discretion is thebetter part of valour. He turned to run for his valuable life, but toolate; the monster was upon him, it grappled with him, it hung on, and thepair rolled in the dust together. 

The zealous and intelligent officer thought his last day had come, butawoke presently to the knowledge that no harm was being done, and a voicewas crying crying in his ear:

"For God's sake, run me in! Arrest me! They'll kill me!"

Constable Mack sat up in the dust, and stared stupidly at the MissingLink. 

"Blarst me if it ain't Perfessor Thunder's man-monkey!" he said. 

"Yes, yes, " gasped Nickie. "Run me in. Be quick about it. "

The crowd was forming about them, only refraining from using missiles outof respect for the law. 

"Be th' holy, th' baste can spheak!" murmured the policemen. 

"They'll kill me. Put me in the cell, " pleaded the Missing Link. 

"Troth an' I will, " answered Mack; "but niver a one iv me knows iv ut'slagel arristin' monkeys. "

Nickie was run in. Next morning he appeared to answer a charge ofinsulting behaviour, inciting a breach of the peace, and assaulting thepolice. Thanks to Matty Cann, a change of raiment was made in the cell, and Nickie Crips appeared in court in his proper person, and was finedtwo pounds. 

Nicholas Crips paid his fine, collected his belongings from the Museum ofMarvels, and went forth into the great world again, a man amongst men. His career as an artist was ended. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE RETURN. 

NICHOLAS CRIPS came back to Melbourne, the image of a reputable andorderly citizen. He had accepted office as a billiard-marker in atownship hotel while his whiskers grew; and now, full-bearded, dressed ina new suit of sedate, grey tweed, wearing an excellent hat and wholeboots, he re-entered the city. His pockets were fairly-well lined, muchof the proceeds of his professional engagement under Professor Thunderhaving been stored by Nickie as a provision for a long journey he wascontemplating. Nickie the Kid had mapped out for himself awell-considered and wholly excellent scheme of life as a man ofcomparative affluence, but that life must be lived under alien skies. 

In the small chamois bag lurking next his heart was the talisman that wasto make an existence of comfort and good living possible to the vagabondand outcast. The diamond is the true philosopher's stone. 

Nicholas put in a few days sauntering about Melbourne, swinging aneatly-rolled silk umbrella, smoking very excellent cigars. He passedseveral frowsy acquaintances of other days, and on two he bestowed smallalms. He felt great satisfaction in the fact that none of his formercompanions recognised Nickie the Kid in the well-groomed, well-dressed, sleek, whiskered citizen. 

On the third afternoon Mr. Crips entered a jeweller's shop, and placing asmall stone on the pad before the man behind the counter, said:

"Would you be so good as to tell me the value of that diamond, sir? Ipicked it up on the floor of a first-class railway carriage the otherday, and having no means of testing it, I thought I might, eh, venture toask an expert. "

The jeweller took up the stone, examined it, subjected it to a simpletest, and handed it hack to Mr. Crips:

"A good carbon, but practically valueless, " he said. 

Had Nicholas Crips received a blow full in the face he would not havebetrayed greater consternation. His cheeks turned grey, he gripped thecounter, all his assumed ease fell from him, he dropped every precaution, forgot the grim necessity for care and cunning. 

"It is not a diamond?" he gasped. 

The jeweller shook his head. "It an awful disappointment, " he said, "butyou may be sure you'll hear of it pretty quickly if you ever have theluck to pick up a true diamond of that size. "

Nicholas hadn't the spirit to thank the man. He turned into the street. The buildings swam in a garish light, he felt his head rocking, and hisfeet seemed scarcely to touch the paving stones rising and dipping underhim like a choppy sea. He drifted into a bar, and drank brandy, and wentforth again with renewed strength and revived hopes. 

The jeweller was mistaken or ignorant, the diamonds must be genuine. Nickie selected another stone, and told the same tale at a pawnbroker'sshop in another part of the city. The benignant Hebrew passed judgmentafter a glance. 

"Paste, my boy, " he said, "not vorth ninepenth. "

Grown rash in his anguish and anxiety, Nicholas Crips visited othershops. The experts all told the same tale. The chamois bag held nothingbut carbon counterfeits! The prospect of a life of ease and elegancefaded away. It had been a vision, an illusion. Nickie's philosophy wasnot proof against this stroke. He felt broken, beaten. In the seclusionof his small room in a respectable suburban boarding-house, Nicholas weptand brooded. And now that the possibility of the splendid reward wasgone, Nickie dwelt upon the fearful risk he had run more than he had donein all the long months since he knelt by the murdered man in Bigg'sBuildings. He realised that in offering these sham stones for inspectionhe had probably done a mad thing. The act might bring the noose about hisneck, if he were arrested, who would believe the absurd story he had totell. 

Nickie had been careful to betray no particular interest in the greatmurder case in the presence of his friends in the Museum of Marvels. Heknew that the fictitious Rev. Andrew Rowbottom had been inquired for bythe police as a man who might provide a clue, but the search for him hadnot been warmly followed up, it being assumed that he was some trumperyimposter. In any case, his importance was forgotten in a splendiddramatic idea entertained by the detectives, inculpating a clever andnotorious criminal. The notorious criminal proved an alibi, and afterbeing a nine days' wonder the great diamond robbery and murder case wassupplanted in the public mind by an even more sensational crime. Nickiein his terror of being associated with the murder had been careful, up tonow, to betray no interest. He had evaded conversation about it, and onlyoccasional papers had come into his hands at the show. Now he was eagerto know all the evidence, anxious to account for the presence of thepaste stones in the pocket of a reputable diamond dealer. 

Mr. Crips determined to seek out "Mary Stuart. " All hope of a comfortablefuture was not lost. "Mary Stuart" must provide for her scape-goat. Itshould be her pleasing duty to clothe and feed that hapless animal forthe remainder of its days. 

In pursuit of his inquiries Nicholas turned up at Whitecliff on thefollowing Sunday afternoon. To the immense astonishment of the master andmistress of that stuccoed mansion, Nickie was neat and clean, spick andspan: he wore pince-nez glasses and spoke like a gentleman. 

Nickie greeted his brother William with chastened melancholy, his mannertowards his sister-in-law was courteous and kindly. He talked ofreformation and a new life, of the honourable and onerous position he nowoccupied in a reputable Sydney business, and of his approaching marriagewith an excellent, middle-aged, maiden lady of means. Deftly he workedround to a tall, aristocratic woman who had appeared a Mary Queen ofScots at the memorable fancy-dress ball at Whitecliff. 

Brother William groaned, sister Jean sat up very straight, and sniffedominously. "The creature!" she said. 

"That woman was no friend of ours, Nicholas, " said brother William, hastily. 

"I met her in your house, " said Nicholas, "and from a brief conversationI had I was deeply interested. It has occurred to me lately that if shestill holds the same views she would be of vast assistance to my firm ina transaction we are meditating. "

"Have nothing to do with her, " cried William. "The creature was anadventuress; she worked her way into our confidence with trickery andfraud, presenting herself in society here as a lady of title. It wasafterwards proved that she had come to the country as the companion of aninfamous scamp who at that very time was serving a sentence of sevenyears for attempted burglary and firing on the police. The womandisappeared shortly after the occasion you mention. She left the country, I imagine. At any rate, the police were pursuing her for some time forpassing valueless cheques. Please do not mention her name in this house;it awakens painful recollections, Nicholas. "

Mrs. William sniffed more significantly than before. "Williams cashed oneof those cheques, " she said bitterly, with a venomous glance at her lordthat told volumes. 

Nicholas recognised in that moment that the prospect of an easy, well-clothed, well-fed, middle age at the expense of Mary Queen of Scotswas out of the question. He consoled himself to some small extent byborrowing ten pounds from brother William after dinner. 

Mr. Crips employed himself on the following day reading up the murdercase in back numbers of the Age in the newspaper annex of the PublicLibrary. He had to read a great deal of superfluous matter, and of manyidle schemes and excursions on the part of the police before he came uponan illuminating little item in the shape of a casual hit of testimonyfrom a friend of the dead man. The friend explained that the diamonddealer always carried in a small leather bag in his breast pocket a fineassortment of paste brilliants, with the deliberate intention ofdeceiving thieves who might attack him at any time. His idea was that thethieves would seize this case and make off without prosecuting a furthersearch. But the murderer, whoever he was, was not content with the falsestones; he had secured £5, 000 worth of pure diamonds!

The story of the paste jewels was not repeated, and nobody seemed to havefound any significance in it. At this late hour Nicholas Crips discoveredso much meaning in it that he went out into the wide Domain to be aloneamong the trees to think it over. His thoughts came back always to thecrucial point. 

"I got the paste brilliants, " he muttered. "She got the real diamonds. She had them about her when I entered. She knew of the carbons, and shestalled me off with them. Lord, what a mug I was!"

Even in his great bitterness of spirit Nicholas could not help admiringthe woman who had so completely sold him, and raising his hand in a mocksalute, he said aloud:

"Mary Queen of Scots You're a DAISY!!"

From Prince's Bridge that night Mr. Crips emptied a small bag ofglittering mock diamonds into the river, and, two days later, he lookedover the rail of an out going steamer, watching Australia receding in thedistance, and, to his fertile imagination, the outline on the horizontook the shape of a gallows with a pendant noose. 

THE END