laced
before them; yet even these were endowed with superhuman strength; and
when aroused battled the more fiercely for the very reason of their
brainlessness. Others, like Number Twelve, were of a higher order of
intelligence. They spoke English, and, after a fashion, reasoned in a
crude sort of way. These were by far the most dangerous, for as the
power of comparison is the fundamental principle of reasoning, so they
were able to compare their lot with that of the few other men they had
seen, and with the help of von Horn to partially appreciate the
horrible wrong that had been done them.

Von Horn, too, had let them know the identity of their creator, and
thus implanted in their malformed brains the insidious poison of
revenge. Envy and jealousy were there as well, and hatred of all
beings other than themselves. They envied the ease and comparative
beauty of the old professor and his assistant, and hated the latter for
the cruelty of the bull whip and the constant menace of the ever ready
revolver; and so as they were to them the representatives of the great
human world of which they could never be a part, their envy and
jealousy and hatred of these men embraced the entire race which they
represented.

It was such that Number Thirteen faced as he emerged from the
professor's apartment.

"What do you want here?" he said, addressing Number Twelve, who stood a
little in advance of the others.

"We have come for Maxon," growled the creature. "We have been penned
up long enough. We want to be out here. We have come to kill Maxon
and you and all who have made us what we are."

"Why do you wish to kill me?" asked the young man. "I am one of you.
I was made in the same way that you were made."

Number Twelve opened his mismated eyes in astonishment.

"Then you have already killed Maxon?" he asked.

"No. He was wounded by a savage enemy. I have been helping to make
him well again. He has wronged me as much as he has you. If I do not
wish to kill him, why should you? He did not mean to wrong us. He
thought that he was doing right. He is in trouble now and we should
stay and protect him."

"He lies," suddenly shouted another of the horde. "He is not one of
us. Kill him! Kill him! Kill Maxon, too, and then we shall be as
other men, for it is these men who keep us as we are."

The fellow started forward toward Number Thirteen as he spoke, and
moved by the impulse of imitation the others came on wi