mmies, then I'll come along
and recapture you. That should excite some curiosity, and perhaps bring
in money to-morrow'."

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

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

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

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

Mahdi faltered. Nickie was very partial to square gin, and although the
Missing 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 on
Mahdi's neck, and embraced him freely. "Mein goot friend," he gurgled, "I
like 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 vear
dot hairy overcoad dose hot nides. Haff er drink."

The Missing Link, standing grimly outlined in the darkness, raised the
bottle 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 two
seesawed towards Schmitz's hotel. The place was in complete darkness; the
bar door was wide open.

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

"Vere haf you gone mit yourseluf, mein goot f