I call Apeman, is
unusually handsome. Miss Estabrook, however, who does not know what
has happened, has taken a strange dislike to the other you! Splendid!
I shall study reactions at first hand that will astound the world!

"But remember, whatever your fine brain dictates that you do, don't
ever forget that I am the only living person who can put you to rights
again--and if I die before that happens, you will continue on, till
you die, as Manape!"

* * * * *

Barter stopped there. Bentley stiffened.

From the room where he knew Ellen Estabrook to be came her voice,
raised high in a shout of fear.

"Lee! Please! I can't understand you. Please don't touch me! Your eyes
burn me--please go away. What in the world has come over you?"

Bentley listened for the reply of the creature he knew was in the
other room with Ellen Estabrook.

But the answer was a gurgling gibberish that made no sense at all! His
own body, directed by the brain of an ape, could not emit speech that
Ellen could understand, because the ape could not speak. The ape's
vocal cords, which now were Bentley's, were incapable of speech.

How, if Barter continued to keep Ellen in ignorance of what had
happened, would she ever know the horrible truth--and realize the
danger that threatened her?

"Don't worry for the moment, Bentley," said Barter with a smile. "I am
not yet ready for your other self to go to undue lengths--though I
dislike intensely to leave the marks of my whip on that handsome body
of yours!"

Barter slipped from the room.

Bentley listened, amazed at the clarity with which he heard every
vagrant little sound--until he remembered again that his hearing was
that of a jungle beast--until he knew that Barter had entered that
other room.

Then came the crackling reports of the whip, wielded mightily by the
hands of Barter.

A scream that was half human, half animal, was the result of the
lashing. Bentley cringed as he imagined the bite of that lash which he
himself had experienced but a few moments before.

"Professor Barter! Professor Barter!" distinctly came the voice of
Ellen Estabrook. "Don't! Don't! He didn't mean anything, I am sure. He
is sick, something dreadful has happened to him. But he wouldn't
really hurt me. He couldn't--not really. Stop, please! Don't strike
him again!"

But the sound of the lash continued.

"Stop, I tell you!" Ellen's voice rose to a cry of agonized entreaty.
"Do