Nicholas Crips was not satisfied he would survive the time. The place was
stifling.

"Yar-r, get to blazes!" snorted the Darwinian hypothesis, and hurled his
water tin at Ammonia.

Ephraim, the pig, grunted pitifully, and Matty Cann, the bone man,
drowsed in his chair. Madame Marve was sleeping, too, and the ripple of a
monotonous snore came from the Egyptian tent.

There were no patrons, the town was still, prone under the great heat.
Professor Thunder entered, mopping his brow, and the Missing Link pressed
against the bars.

"How is it for a drink?" he said. "You've got to be generous, Professor,
or I resign. There you are, a drink, or my resignation--the loss of the
most versatile Link in the profession."

The Professor entered the Egyptian tent, and presently returned with a
pint pannikin which he passed through to Mr. Crips. Nickie seized it
greedily, raised it to his lips, and then changed his mind, and hurled it
at Thunder with a furious imprecation.

"Water!" snarled the Missing Link, "Water! You have the heart to insult a
Christian thirst with water on a day like this, you blastiferous heathen!
Let me out! I resign. Let me out of this monkey house."

Professor Thunder laughed and returned to his post at the door, and the
baffled Link pushed his face through the bars and poured a torrent of
frantic objurgations in the direction of the street door.