te presently."

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN ADVENTURE AT 'TWEEN BRIDGES.

"BONY, my friend, I am weary of this," said the Missing Link.

The Living Skeleton, who had been drowsing on his chair, beat the flies
off and groaned.

"So'm I." he replied, "but what's a cove t' do?"

"Sneak my key out of the Professor's tent, and let's go and have a drop
of something."

"It ain't t' be thought of, Nickie," said Matty Cann, "where'd my livin'
be? The Professor ud give me the run, an' there's the missus an' the
kids."

"No fear, he can't pick up Living Skeletons at every Street corner.
Living Skeletons are rarer than you think. Why, a man of your physique
could get a Living Skeleton billet almost anywhere. What you want is a
little more impudence and self-respect Matty. An artist like you ought to
be able to make his own terms, and not be tied up like a calculating dog
or a two-headed calf."

"D'yeh think so?" said Matty, eagerly.

"Of course I do. Now, you just pinch the key of my cage. We'll trot out
and have a drink. No one will be a penny the wiser."

It was early in the afternoon of a midsummer day. Professor Thunder's
Museum of Marvels was on show at 'Tween Bridges. The show was open for
any casual sixpence but business in agricultural centres is dead at this
hour, and the Professor and his wile slept in the tent of the Egyptian
Mystic, and Miss Letitia, who was doorkeeper at the outer tent, overcome
by the heat and burden of the day dreamed of that splendid time when she
was to be acclaimed queen of the bare-back riders of all nations and
generations.

Nickie thirst had been nagging at him for two hours past. He always
contended that the Missing Link's skin was provocative of a great
drought. He pleaded with Matty, the bone man, appealing artfully to his
professional pride, for Bonypart loved to feel in exalted moments that
his position as the living skeleton was not insignificant after all.

"We can slip on overcoats, trot over to the Bridge Inn, have a drink, and
return before the Professor wakes." whispered Nickie.

"I couldn't trust meself near th' counter-lunch. Nickie. I couldn't," Mat
replied.

But in the end the Missing Link had his way. Bonypart pulled on trousers
and coat over his tawdry tights, Nickie turned back the ingenious
head-piece and mask of Mahdi, the man-monkey, so that it hung between his
shoulders, donned an overcoat and a pair of the Professor's knee boots,
and the two slipped under t