e mighty hands of Manape.

"God," he told himself, refusing to listen to the slobbering gibberish
which came from his thick lips when he addressed himself, "I can do
nothing to Barter--not until he restores me properly. If he is slain,
it is the end for me, and for Ellen! He is a master, no doubt of that.
He anesthetized me through the door with something of his own
manufacture that smelled like violets, and put my brain in Manape
after removing from Manape the brain of the savage. Then he removed an
ape's brain from a second ape and put it in my skull pan--all within
the space of a few hours! Yet his knowledge of surgery and medicine is
such that even in so short a time I suffer little from the operation,
save for the dull headache which I had on awakening, and which I now
scarcely feel at all."

* * * * *

He straightened, close against the bars, and began again to fumble
with the leather thong which held him prisoner. In his brain was the
hazy idea that he might after all make a break for it, and carry Ellen
away to a place of safety, taking a chance on finding his way back
here to force Barter to operate again and restore him to his proper
place. But would not Ellen die of fright at being borne away through
the jungle in the arms of an ape? Was there any possibility of forcing
Barter to perform the operation? No, for under the anesthetic again,
Barter, angered by the thwarting of whatever purpose actuated him,
might do something even worse than he had done--if that were possible.
Again, even if he reached civilisation with Ellen, every human hand
would be turned against him. Rifles would hurl their lead into him.
Hunters would pursue him....

No, it was impossible.

Bentley, Ellen, and the Apeman--his own body, ape-brained--were but
pawns in the hands of Barter. Barter might be actuated by a desire to
serve science, that science which was alike his tool and his god.
Bentley scarcely doubted that Barter believed himself specially
ordained to do this thing, in the name of science; probably,
unquestionably, felt himself entirely justified.

Plainly, now that Bentley recalled things Barter had said, Barter had
waited for an opportunity of this kind--had waited for someone to be
tossed into his net--and Ellen and Lee, flotsam of the sea, had come
in answer to the prayer for whose answer Barter had waited.

It was horrible, yet there was nothing they could do--at least, to
free them