The raid was going to express itself forcibly; it did refer to "iniquitous frauds," "shameful imposition," "scoundrels," &c., but the Professor's big, penetrating voice, his heavy-as-lead manner, triumphed.
"Most unfortunate, gentlemen, a most lamentable disaster," he said.

"My valuable Missing Link is more seriously injured than I imagined, and I may lose him, which would be a heavy blow, indeed, as the College of Naturalists of London, values the beast at four thousand and seventy pounds." "It's a fraud--a blanky imposition!" cried a fierce little man.
"Gentlemen will you favour me by stepping into the museum, and judging for yourself," said Thunder gravely.

"You will find the Missing Link in a low state, but Madame Marve has done all that surgical skill could do.
The murderous attacks of the gorilla scalped the poor creature, and tore the skin from his body, but the wounds have been stitched up--there is still hope.

This way, gentle men, and quietly, if you please." The surprised and subdued deputation found Mahdi, the Missing Link, lying moaning on his straw, his wounds--artfully bloodstained--all stitched up.
There were white bandages about his head and his injured arms.
"But the girls say it was a man gasped the fierce deputationist.
"A not unnatural mistake, my dear sir," said the Professor, "Strip the poor creature of its hairy hide and its resemblance to a human creature would deceive the most expert naturalist." "Wonderful!" said the local publican.
"But all the same, me mahn," said Quinn, regretfully, "I have half a moind t' prosecute yeh fer croolty t' animals." The trick worked, however, the situation was saved, and that night all Bunkers flocked to see the Missing Link that had been flayed in its life-and-death struggle with an infuriated gorilla..