A NARROW ESCAPE.
THUNDER'S Museum of Marvels was showing at Wildbee, and doing only
moderately, 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 in
Australia, and Links included all sorts of hairy freaks, wild men of the
woods, and shaggy eccentrics from Borneo; but Nicholas Crips could not
rest satisfied as a mere interpreter of monkey character.
Nickie reached out and developed, and his newest device was a dinner in
the cage, an actual dinner, in which Madame Marve, bewitchingly dressed
in a costume that was a cross between the uniform of a hospital nurse and
the garb of a French peasant girl, acted as waitress, and the Missing
Link 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 do
it, Nickie," said Matty, from his pedestal next the cage of the Missing
Link. "Et's awful tryin' to a pore bloke what ain't 'ad nothin' fer
dinner but a dry biscuit t' 'ave 't sit 'ere, patient as an owl, while
you're hoggin' into ther grub, an' pourin' fresh beer into yersell
regardless 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 in
your eating so as to keep in proper condition. You wouldn't have a fellow
artist sacrifice his chance of becoming celebrated just because it isn't
quite pleasant to you to be a spectator at the banquet?"
"Art he blowed!" said the Living Skeleton. "Give we a yard o' tripe an' a
scoopful iv mashed potatoos."
"You aren't cut out for a public career. Matty you ought to abandon
Living Skeletons and get a good eating part."
"Wish t' 'eaven I could, but there's ther missus an' ther kids t' think
of."
"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 the
requirements of art.
Professor Thunder spread himself to make the new act a success; he
procured 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 eyeglass
were the rest of the properties.
When the Professor had explained to his patrons his gallant capture of
the only living Missing Link in the jungles of Darkest Africa, and had
put Mahdi through his paces, to the great amazement of the bucolic
audience, he said:
"And now, ladies and gents. I have the pleasure of introducing to your
notice an entire change of programme, exhihiting Mahdi, the Missing Link,
in his wonderful act, called 'Civilisation.' You have, seen, ladies and
gents, this here astonishing animal showing the natural qualities of the
brute creation; you will now be privileged to see that side of his nature
which approaches more nearly to humanity. This act, I may tell you,
ladies and gents, though a miracle of training, would not have been
possible if wasn't that the Missing Link has a good deal of human nature
in his composition."
After this the opera cloak was handed in to the Missing Link, and he put
it on with awkward, monkey movements; he donned the crush hat, put the
eyeglass in his eye, and with the walking' stick promenaded the cage with
some uncouth affectations of humanity. Meanwhile, Madame Marve had
carried the small table into the cage. She spread a cloth, put on a few
articles, and offered Mahdi a chair.
The Missing Link sat down, took off his hat, and closed it. Then he
examined the bill of fare, and pointed to an item. While Madame was
fulfilling the order Mahdi lounged in his chair, playing with the
serviette, which he took from the ring, and spread on his lap.
After this Nickie went through the process of ordering and eating a
dinner, the aim being to do the thing not too humanly, but as a trained
animal might do it, throwing in a good deal of coarse humour, at which
the audience roared.
The turn was a success, the spectators applauded vociferously.
"Ladies and gents. I thank you," said the Professor, bowing. "You have
witnessed 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 been
in 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 Simian
family this--this creature of yours belongs?"
"Well," said the Professor, "he is said to be most closely connected with
the gorillas."
"Nonsense, man! Gorilla, rubbish! Look at that pelvis, sir, look at those
arms. 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 a
gorilla, sir, where are his vertebral processes, tell me that? And how
comes it that his legs are almost as long as those of man?"
The Missing Link, who had doffed his airs of civilisation, and was now
crouched 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 for
such discussions. "He is in a manner a creature apart."
"I should say so. Would you permit me to take cerebral measurements of
your so-called Missing Link? I am interested in this matter, having
opposed the Darwinian hypothesis for many years."
Here Mahdi's snarling became diabolical, and he leaped about in a
terrifying way.
"Certainly," said the Professor, "Certainly, Mahdi is always at the
service of science. But I warn you he is apt to be treacherous with
strangers. He almost tore the arm off Professor Fitzpoof, of Dresden, and
he nearly disembowelled a doctor in Dublin in 1895."
"Oh," said the gentleman with the notebook, doubtingly, "in that case I
had better not, perhaps."
Mr. McKnight did not go away for some time. He lingered, watching Mahdi
with great curiosity. He came back in the evening, too, and hung about
the 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 the
same notebook and the same suspicious air. He brought five men with him,
all solid men in Wildbee, one of them the local constable. This party
assembled near the cage of the Missing Link, and listened carefully while
the Professor reeled off the familiar story of the taking of Mahdi. They
witnessed the stirring and entertaining dinner, and when the Professor
had finished, and Mahdi had resumed his conch in the straw, McKnight
stepped 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 you
don't."
"Well, we don't, sir, and what's more, we know you to be an impostor--a
rank impostor--and as editor of the Wildbee 'Guardian,' it is my duty to
expose you and your shameless fraud upon the public of this town and
district."
At this the Missing Link came out of his straw, growling, and springing
to the perch hung by one hand, with his legs drawn up in a very
monkey-like attitude.
"What the deuce do you mean?" thundered the Professor, manfully.
"I mean this," said McKnight, addressing the crowd "you have been
victimised. That creature is no monkey. It is a human being of some
kind."
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 bars
jabbered excitedly.
"You're talking rubbish, man," cried the Professor.
"Am I?" retorted McKnight. "Then perhaps you will have the audacity to
tell us you have a monkey that can talk? Last night I crept under your
tent at the back there when there were no people in the show, and I heard
your absurd Missing Link talking, and what's more, he was teaching a
magpie to talk."
The Missing Link here made a fierce jump at Ammonia, who happened to be
clinging to the dividing bars, caught him, and clawed viciously. Ammonia
clawed back, and they fought a yowling battle that went a long way
towards modifying the impression created by McKnight's remarks.
The Professor was consternated for a moment, but the diversion Nickie had
created gave him a chance to collect his wits and presently he began to
laugh. He laughed uproariously. He clapped the Living Skeleton gaily on
the back. "Laugh, you idiot!" he hissed, under his breath. The Living
Skeleton laughed, and Madame Marve joined in the seeming merriment. She
did 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 the
English language."
"Certainly," said the Professor, cordially, "I might prefer to kick you
off the premises, but I will explain. Mahdi!" he called imperiously.
"Forward, Sir."
The Missing Link turned from his argument with Ammonia, and lurched to
the bars.
"I have not been able to teach my Missing Link to talk, though I've tried
hard. He can do almost anything else, but not that. However, I dare say
we can get him to address this intelligent audience. Mahdi, you see this
nice gentleman here." Professor Thunder pointed to McKnight, "What do you
think 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 and
his 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 what
that 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 have
never heard of the art of ventriloquism? I am a ventriloquist. The voice
you heard was my voice thrown into the mouth of the Missing Link. In this
way we are teaching a magpie to speak to the man-monkey as a new feature
of my marvellous entertainment. As to your libellous accusations, sir,
you will probably hear further on that point from my solicitor, and now
good-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 this
day."
When McKnight and his party had gone, and the museum was empty of
patrons, 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 the
Professor. "Your overweening ambition will ruin everything. Why, bless my
soul, you be wanting to shave clean and have a vote presently."