Bentley.

Ellen remained as close to Apeman as the she would permit her.
Manape-Bentley crouched close by. After a time Apeman slept, and
Bentley was pleased to notice that the agony sweat no longer beaded
Apeman's body, and that Apeman was recovering with superhuman
swiftness--thanks to the ministrations of the unnamed she who had
taken charge of him. Apeman now rarely groaned, sleeping or waking.

Ellen watched the sleeping Apeman with her heart--and her fears--in
her eyes. Satisfied that he slept, and that his sleep was healthy,
Ellen again approached the creature she knew as Manape, Barter's
trained ape.

"If only you could talk," she said to him. "If only you were able to
give some hope. If only there were some way I could cause you to
understand my wishes--understand and help me."

* * * * *

Bentley did not answer. He knew that to be useless. But his brain
remembered something. His brain recalled that moment in the cage in
the dwelling of Barter, when his human brain had tried to force
obedience from the great clumsy hands of Manape, when he had tried to
force those mighty fingers to unfasten the knots which held the cage
door secure.

Could he force those hands to something else?

Did he dare try?

It was a terrible risk to take with Ellen's sanity, but Bentley felt
it must be taken. She was watching him hopelessly, and her lips moved
as though she prayed for a miracle--as though by some weird necromancy
she might force Manape to understand her words, and to answer her,
allaying her fears, destroying her hopelessness.

When Ellen watched him, Bentley searched about nearby until he found a
dried stick perhaps eight feet in length. He held it up, sniffed at
it, fumbled it with his heavy, grotesque fingers. He focussed the
attention of Ellen upon that stick, while his excitement mounted and
mounted, and his fear of possible consequences kept pace with his
excitement.

Then, his decision reached, he began again that species of hypnosis
which seemed necessary to compel the hands and fingers of Manape to do
things no ape's hands had ever done before, no ape's brain had ever
thought of doing.

He pressed one end of the stick against the ground at his sprawling
feet. With his left palm he smoothed out an area of dust several feet
in either direction--a rough dusty rectangle.

Interested, her brows puckered in concentration. Ellen watched as
Manape went through these gestu