“He’s been proposin’ marriage, that’s what he’s been doin’,” cried Mrs. Spink.  “I’m a widder lady, and he’s been proposin’ marriage to Me.”

“Dangerous, dangerous—­very dangerous,” said the Professor.

The Living Skeleton looked apprehensively to wards the cage of the Missing Link, and Mahdi growled fiercely and retreated into the shadows.

“He stayed at my house two weeks,” continued the widow, “paid nothing for board and residence, but made me an honourable proposal of marriage, and then ran off.  But I’ll find him.”

The Professor was called away to give his scholarly address on the Darwinian hypothesis for the edification of his patrons, and the fierce female hung on the outskirts of the audience, and examined the exhibits suspiciously.  When Thunder came to that scale of creation represented by the Missing Link, Nickie exhibited great ferocity, growling and gnashing his teeth in a most terrifying manner, but keeping sedulously to the shadows at the back of the cage.  Madame Marve stirred him up with the long stick kept for the purpose, and the Professor dwelt with feeling on the worst features of the animal’s character.  Mrs. Spink peered with especial eagerness.

Mrs. Martha Spink paid twice for admission before sundown, and at night she came again.  She betrayed extraordinary curiosity concerning the characteristics and peculiarities of missing links, and her concern had a powerful effect upon Mahdi.  His diffidence was so marked that the Professor was constrained to excuse it in his descriptive address.  “The poor animal is afflicted with toothache to-day,” he said.  “Like the best of us he has his morbid moments.”

“S’pose she’ll be lookin’ yeh up agen t’day, Nickie,” whispered the Living Skeleton through Mahdi’s bars next morning.

The Missing Link snorted.  “I wish the Professor would bet out of this hole,” he said.  “If that terrific creature discovers the truth, I am lost.”

Nickie had not left the cage all night, preferring to sleep in his skin rather than risk a sudden descent on the part of the enemy.

“What’d yeh do it fer?” said the Skeleton; “a great lath-an’-plaster she-emu like that, too.”

“Not having anything else to do, Matthew,” moaned the Missing Link.  “I always was tender with women.”

“Well, yiv gotter look out, ol’ man.  If she nails yer, yer a gone link, that’s er cert.”

“For two pins I’d retire from the profession,” said Nickie.  “It exposes a man to too much temptation.”

The lorn widow did not appear that morning.  The afternoon passed, and Mrs. Spink had not been heard from.  There was a good crowd in at half-past eight, and Professor Thunder was giving his instructive and entertaining description of the life and habits of the Missing Link in the dark jungles of Central Africa.  The Link had recovered confidence somewhat.  He ventured to show himself at the front of the cage, he capered and gibbered, and at that point where Thunder dwelt upon the courage and fierceness of the man-monkey in fighting for his young, Nickie jumped forward, clawing through the bars, and uttering blood-curling growls.