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This was the proper way for a tramp to enter such a house. It was accepted as a quaint effort of humour. Weary Willie was applauded, and his appearance, when he rose to his feet, occasioned fresh merriment. The "make-up" of Mr. Crips was certainly very effective, but with the exception of the false nose it was nothing but his ordinary habit.
The familiars of Mr. Nicholas Crips were a limited circle, and all "beats," that is to say, gentlemen sitting on the rail dividing honest toil from open crime. They were not workers, neither were they thieves, excepting in very special circumstances, when the opportunity made honesty almost an impertinence. The sobriquet coming from such a source acquires peculiar significance.
AFTER taking to the show business, Nicholas Crips often complained of the vicissitudes of an artistic career and threatened on many occasions to resign his arduous role as the Missing Link, but despite his occasional eccentric departures from the manners and customs of Missing Links, Nickie had so far proved to be the most successful and profitable man-monkey ever associated with the Professor's show, and Thunder was determined not to lose him.
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!
Every man wanted to get a lick at the monster, and every man got it. Luckily, Nickie's skull was thick, and the Mahdi head-dress offered it some protection, otherwise there would have been an instantaneous and fatal termination to the artistic career of Nicholas Crips.
He uttered a roar that would not have discredited the Missing Link in its native jungle in the wilds of Darkest Africa. "You infernal blackguard!" he yelled. "Now, Jim," cried Madame Marve in sudden alarm, standing between the men with her paste pin. "Out of my way, woman!" cried the Professor, tossing her aside. Professor Thunder fell upon Nicholas Crips, and smote him hip and thigh.
The black mare Nickie rode was one of the three hired to drag the Museum into Bullfrog. She was a rather spirited little beast, and had shown great perturbation when Mr. Crips, in his full make-up as Mahdi, the Missing Link, approached to mount. Now she cantered ahead at a smart pace, still nervous about the monstrous thing upon her back.
They would come, he imagined, along with the familiar penalties. One of the young men did remark, with cheerful enthusiasm: "You're in fer it all right, blokie," but Nickie the Kid only sighed. Crips recognised the farm-house they drove to as that of the farmer with rheumatism in the back, his first customer.
Nicholas Crips had the primitive instincts of the pure individualist; fine notions of honour and delicate concepts of propriety had no influence on his modes of conduct. It may be inferred in these circumstances that Mr. Crips had no compunction, about coveting his neighbour's wife.
"By Jove, that was dooced awkward of me yes, I beg your pardon, I'm sure. Should have looked where I was going what? said Romeo. "Not at all," answered Nickie politely. "My fault in blocking the path. My fault, entirely." "By Jo-o-ve!" gasped Romeo; "that's a stunnin' make-up, old chap what? Nevah saw a bettah, by gad." "Make-up?" said Nicholas. Mr. Crips had for gotten his false nose.
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