Th' Missin' Link, he comes next; but as I was sayin' he's out iv it just now, bein' ill, an' Perfesser Thunder ud give ez much ez two quid er week fee a good, reliable Missin' Link what wouldn't over-eat hisself." The Living Skeleton was allowing an inquiring eye to roam over Nickie the Kid.
"I was thinkin' yon was just bout th' build fer a Missin' Link," he said.
"What, me ?" cried Nickie.
The Skeleton nodded, and Nickie was silent for a moment, lost in thought.
It was very necessary that Nickie should sink his identity for a time.
Here was a magnificent opportunity.

"Has the Missing Link much to do ?" he asked.
"No," replied Matty Cann.

"He's just gotter he careful not t' over-eat hisseif, as I was savin'.

Yeh see, people what come in t' th' show gives him buns, an' lollies an' things, an' if he's a glutton he' bound t' be knocked out." "What else does he do ?" "Oh, prowls round in the cage." "Anything else ?" "An' scratches hisself." "Yes." "An' growls." "That seems easy." "Well, it all depends.

If yer gifted that way it's easy enough, but real scratchin' an' natural growlin' takes a bit o' doin'." "How's this ?" asked Nickie.
He scratched himself in approved monkey style, hopped briskly over the stone, then sat up, and growled a deep, guttural growl.
"That's it--that's it, t' th' life!" cried Bonypart in amazed admiration.
"Why, you're er natural born artist, that's what you are.