Presently the Professor appeared on the stairs, dragging the hairy monster after him.  He dragged it by the leg.  It bumped cruelly on the steps.  The Professor pulled the Missing Link to his feet, took him by his rudimentary 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 the unwelcome drunk.  The crowd followed, cheering still.

It was an inspiriting sight.  The Missing Link running on tip-toes, his eyes projecting, seemingly in imminent danger of falling on his nose, the Professor 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.  He kicked him into his cage, and ten seconds later was vociferating on his kerosene box again, strenuously inviting the crowd to roll up, roll up, roll up, and see the wonderful Missing Link, the only genuine man-monkey in captivity.

The rush that followed was unprecedented in the history of Professor Thunder’s Museum of Marvels.  The people flocked in.  Prices were put up to a shilling all round, but still the people flocked, and Letitia took nearly a bucketful of silver before public interest was exhausted.

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

Next day the papers contained an account of the excitement occasioned in the 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 double allowance of beer, and got both, in view of his increased importance as the 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 the vicissitudes of an artistic career and threatened on many occasions to resign his arduous role as the Missing Link, but despite his occasional eccentric departures from the manners and customs of Missing Links, Nickie had so far proved to be the most successful and profitable man-monkey ever associated with the Professor’s show, and Thunder was determined not to lose him.

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

Matty Cann, the bone man, was the most respectable and melancholy freak in the museum, but his melancholy was not native to him, it sprang from the cravings of appetite doomed to dissatisfaction—­he had his brighter moments.