Those of the inhabitants of Catcat who had had no hint of the partial disruption of Thunder’s unparalleled show ran to their doors, and beheld the hunt with speechless wonder.  They saw a huge, monkey-like creature speeding up the street, pursued and pelted by a clamorous throng.

Nickie’s physical condition was not good, he was ill-trained for a footrace, his wind was bad; he felt that he must presently succumb, and then Constable Daniel Mack loomed before him as a possible saviour.

Constable Mack had stepped from Hogan’s store, drawn forth by the yells of the pack.  He looked and beheld a terrific creature rushing towards him, erect like a man, but covered with thick, short, reddish hair, and displaying a face of demoniacal ugliness.  Constable Mack had his good points; one of them an appreciation of the fact that discretion is the better part of valour.  He turned to run for his valuable life, but too late; the monster was upon him, it grappled with him, it hung on, and the pair rolled in the dust together.

The zealous and intelligent officer thought his last day had come, but awoke presently to the knowledge that no harm was being done, and a voice was 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 Missing Link.

“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 out of 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’s lagel arristin’ monkeys.”

Nickie was run in.  Next morning he appeared to answer a charge of insulting behaviour, inciting a breach of the peace, and assaulting the police.  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 fined two pounds.

Nicholas Crips paid his fine, collected his belongings from the Museum of Marvels, 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 and orderly citizen.  He had accepted office as a billiard-marker in a township hotel while his whiskers grew; and now, full-bearded, dressed in a new suit of sedate, grey tweed, wearing an excellent hat and whole boots, he re-entered the city.  His pockets were fairly-well lined, much of the proceeds of his professional engagement under Professor Thunder having been stored by Nickie as a provision for a long journey he was contemplating.  Nickie the Kid had mapped out for himself a well-considered and wholly excellent scheme of life as a man of comparative affluence, but that life must be lived under alien skies.