ce. Mein Gott,
dot's der greadest sight I effer haff see me."

This was the strange and awful spectacle Mrs. Schmitz tumbled upon,
returning from a week's stay at Rattletrap. Her screams brought the
red-headed stable boy to the rescue.

Two minutes later, while Mrs. Schmitz was assuring one section of Rabbit
township that her poor, miserable husband had sold his soul to hell, and
was at that moment dancing fiendish dances with the devil himself in her
kitchen, a red-headed youth, almost beside himself with horror, was
stirring up the other section with the tale of Dutchy Schmitz howling mad
in the hotel, while a great, hairy, hideous jim-jam capered on the floor
before him.

Rabbit was stirred at last. Professor Thunder was made unpleasantly aware
of the fact when he discovered a crowd of patriots surrounding Schmitz's,
preparing to burn out the devils that possessed it, having peeped timidly
at the windows; and assured themselves of the unearthly nature of
Schmitz's guest.

The Missing Link, with Schmitz on his arm, came rolling from the back
door, roaring and brandishing a bottle. The crowd broke and fled before
them, and a minute later the bosom friends were rocking down the road
together, singing insanely.

How to recapture Nickie was the showman's real trouble now. He knew that
persuasion would be useless with Nickie in his present state, and
resolved to try force. He grappled with Nickie in the street, and Nickie,
now feeling like a king in his own right, and valiantly asserting his
majesty, resented this impudent interference, and fought with fine, royal
spirit. For a moment or two Dutchy failed to realise the situation, and
then, roaring like a bull, and swinging a bottle of stone gin, he went at
the Professor.

The bottle took Thunder in the back of the head. It ought to have killed
him, but it didn't--it merely stretched him on the road unconscious. When
he recovered he was on a couch in the hotel, with his head wrapped in a
tablecloth, and day was breaking. No body knew what had become of Dutchy
and the Missing Link, and the Professor returned to the tent, with a soul
seething bitterness. He found Nickie in his cage, sleeping soundly, and
alongside him on the straw lay the bulky form of Schmitz, the publican,
in whose hand was still clutched a bottle of stone gin. The Missing Link
had returned hospitality for hospitality, and side by side like brothers
dear the carousers slept.

CHAPTER XV.

HO