r a Wild Man from Borneo now on
the roads' drawing the salary you are, Crips," said the Professor. "Two
pounds two and six a week is princely pay for a Missing Link. Let me tell
you there are stars playing Romeo and Hamlet that aren't getting such
good money, my boy."

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

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

"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 me
riding 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 the
man-monkey before it's all over. Just a dash through and back to the
tent, and we can be under cover again before they're fairly out of their
houses. I tell you, sir, it will make Bull frog wild with curiosity."

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

The black mare Nickie rode was one of the three hired to drag the Museum
into Bullfrog. She was a rather spirited little beast, and had shown
great perturbation when Mr. Crips, in his full make-up as Mahdi, the
Missing Link, approached to mount. Now she cantered ahead at a smart
pace, still nervous about the monstrous thing upon her back. The caravan
came rattling after, Professor Thunder keeping up a volley of whip
cracks, and Madame