CHAPTER IV

_Grim Awakening_

Bentley returned to consciousness with a dull headache. He rose to a

sitting posture and looked dully about him. Dimwittedly he tried to

recall all that had passed since he had last been awake. He knew he

had gone to sleep under the door in the room where Ellen had slept.

Yet he was not there now. He peered about him.

He recognized the room.

Yonder was the table where they had eaten last night, or yesterday

afternoon. Yonder was the bed he guessed Barter customarily used, and

he shuddered a little as he fancied a man sleeping in the same room

with that ghastly travesty which was neither ape nor human--Manape.

The creature's name was simple, being simply "man" and "ape" joined

together to fit the creature perfectly--too perfectly. Barter's bed

had been slept in, but Barter was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?

How came Bentley in this room? Barter had forbidden him to enter the

place at all, on any pretext whatever. Had he walked in his sleep,

drawn by some freak of his subconscious mind into the room of Manape?

Slowly, afraid to look yet forced by something outside himself, he

turned his eyes toward the corner where the beast's cage was.

The cage was empty!

The door of it was open!

Stunned by his discovery, wondering what had happened during the

night, Bentley looked about him. He noticed the long narrow table at

the end of the cage, and the white covering it bore. He recognized it

instantly as an operating table, and wondered afresh.

Where was Barter?

* * * * *

Bentley raised his voice to shout the scientist's name. But before he

could himself recognize the syllables of the scientist's name, through

the whole room rang the bellowing challenge of a giant anthropoid ape.

Bentley cowered down fearfully and looked around him. Where was the

ape that had uttered that frightful noise? The sound had broken in

that very room, yet save for himself the room was empty.

Bentley turned his head as he heard someone fumbling with the door.

Barter entered, and his face was a study as his eyes met those of

Bentley. Bentley noticed that Barter held that whip in his hand,

uncoiled and ready for action.

What was this that Barter was saying?

"I warn you, Bentley, that if anything happens to me you are doomed.

If I am killed it means a horrible end for you."

Bentley tried to answer him, tried to speak, but something appeared to

have gone wrong with his vocal cords, so that all that came from his

lips was a senseless gibberish that meant nothing at all. He recalled

the odor of violets, Barter's enigmatic good-night utterance with

reference to violets, and wondered if their odor, stealing into the

room where he had gone on guard over Ellen, had had anything to do

with paralyzing his powers of speech.

"I see you haven't discovered, Bentley," said Barter after a moment of

searching inspection of Bentley. "Look at yourself!"

Surprised at this puzzling command, Bentley slowly looked down at his

chest. It was broad and hairy, huge as a mighty barrel, and his arms

hung to the floor, the hands half closed as though they grasped

something. Horror held Bentley mute for a moment. Then he raised his

eyes to Barter, to note that the scientist was smiling and rubbing his

hands with immense satisfaction.

* * * * *

Bentley started across the floor toward a mirror near Barter's bed. He

refused to let his numbed brain dwell upon the instant recognition of

his manner of progress. For he moved across the floor with a peculiar

rolling gait, aiding his stride with the bent knuckles of his hands

pressed against the floor.

He fought against the horror that gripped him. He feared to look into

the mirror, yet knew that he must. He reached it, reared to his full

height, and gazed into the glass--at the reflection of Manape, the

great ape of the cage!

Instantly a murderous fury possessed him. He whirled on Barter, to

scream out at the man, to beg him to explain what had happened, why

this ghastly hallucination gripped him. But all he could do was

bellow, and smash his mighty chest with his fists, so that the sound

went crashing out across the jungle--to be answered almost at once by

the drumming of other mighty anthropoids outside, beyond the clearing

which held the awful cabin of Caleb Barter.

He started toward Barter, still bellowing and beating his chest. His

one desire was to clutch the scientist and tear him limb from limb,

and he knew that his mighty arms were capable of ripping the scientist

apart as though Barter had been a fly.

"Back, you fool!" snarled Barter. "Back, I say!"

The long lash of the whip cracked like a revolver shot, and the lash

curled about the chest and neck of Bentley. It ripped and tore like a

hot iron. It struck again and again. Bentley could not stand the awful

beating the scientist was giving him. In spite of all his power he

found himself being forced back and back.

* * * * *

He stepped into the cage, cowered back against its side. Barter darted

in close, shut the door and fastened it. Then he stood against the

bars, grinning.

"Nod your head if you can understand me, Bentley," he said.

Bentley nodded.

"I told you I would yet prove to the world the greatness of Caleb

Barter," said the scientist. "And you will bear witness that what I

have to tell is true. Would you like to know what I have done?"

Again, slowly and laboriously, Bentley nodded his shaggy head.

Barter grinned.

"Wonderful!" he said. "You see, you are now Manape. Yesterday you had

the brain of a black man, and to exchange your brain with Manape's of

yesterday would not have served my purpose in the least. So I had to

find an ape of more than average intelligence. That's why I spent so

much time in the jungle yesterday. I needed a brain to put in the body

of Lee Bentley's--an ape's brain. Your body is a healthy one and I did

not think it would die as the savage's did. I was right. It is doing

splendidly. It would interest you to see how your body behaves with an

ape's brain to direct it. Your other self, whom 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.

"Don't strike him again. See, you've ripped his flesh until he is

covered with blood! Strike me if you must strike someone--for with

all my heart and soul I love him!"