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The Black Box by E. Phillips (Edward Phillips) Oppenheim
page 87 of 451 (19%)
She followed him silently. A few turns of the wrist and the door yielded.
Keeping Lenora a little behind him, Quest gazed around eagerly. Exactly in
front of him, clad only in a loin cloth, with hunched-up shoulders, a
necklace around his neck, with blazing eyes and ugly gleaming teeth,
crouched some unrecognisable creature, human yet inhuman, a monkey and yet
a man. There were a couple of monkeys swinging by their tails from a bar,
and a leopard chained to a staple in the ground, walking round and round
in the far corner, snapping and snarling every time he glanced towards the
new-comers. The creature in front of him stretched out a hairy hand
towards a club, and gripped it. Quest drew a long breath. His eyes were
set hard.

"Drop that club," he ordered.

The creature suddenly sprang up. The club was waved around his head.

"Drop it," Quest repeated firmly. "You will sit down in your corner. You
will take no more notice of us. Do you hear? You will drop the club. You
will sit down in your corner. You will sleep."

The club slipped from the hairy fingers. The tense frame, which had been
already crouched for the spring, was suddenly relaxed. The knees trembled.

"Back to that corner," Quest ordered, pointing.

Slowly and dejectedly, the ape-man crept to where he had been ordered and
sat there with dull, non-comprehending stare. It was a new force, this, a
note of which he had felt--the superman raising the voice of authority.
Quest touched his forehead and found it damp. The strain of those few
seconds had been intolerable.
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