A New Face

: The Monster Men

As Professor Maxon and von Horn rushed from the workshop to their own

campong, they neglected, in their haste, to lock the door between, and

for the first time since the camp was completed it stood unlatched and

ajar.



The professor had been engaged in taking careful measurements of the

head of his latest experiment, the while he coached the young man in

the first rudiments of spoken language, and now the
ubject of his

labors found himself suddenly deserted and alone. He had not yet been

without the four walls of the workshop, as the professor had wished to

keep him from association with the grotesque results of his earlier

experiments, and now a natural curiosity tempted him to approach the

door through which his creator and the man with the bull whip had so

suddenly disappeared.



He saw before him a great walled enclosure roofed by a lofty azure

dome, and beyond the walls the tops of green trees swaying gently in

the soft breezes. His nostrils tasted the incense of fresh earth and

growing things. For the first time he felt the breath of Nature, free

and unconfined, upon his brow.



He drew his giant frame to its full height and drank in the freedom and

the sweetness of it all, filling his great lungs to their fullest; and

with the first taste he learned to hate the close and stuffy confines

of his prison.



His virgin mind was filled with wonder at the wealth of new impressions

which surged to his brain through every sense. He longed for more, and

the open gateway of the campong was a scarce needed invitation to pass

to the wide world beyond. With the free and easy tread of utter

unconsciousness of self, he passed across the enclosure and stepped out

into the clearing which lay between the palisade and the jungle.



Ah, here was a still more beautiful world! The green leaves nodded to

him, and at their invitation he came and the jungle reached out its

million arms to embrace him. Now before him, behind, on either side

there was naught but glorious green beauty shot with splashes of

gorgeous color that made him gasp in wonderment.



Brilliant birds rose from amidst it all, skimming hither and thither

above his head--he thought that the flowers and the birds were the

same, and when he reached out and plucked a blossom, tenderly, he

wondered that it did not flutter in his hand. On and on he walked, but

slowly, for he must not miss a single sight in the strange and

wonderful place; and then, of a sudden, the quiet beauty of the scene

was harshly broken by the crashing of a monster through the underbrush.



Number Thirteen was standing in a little open place in the jungle when

the discordant note first fell upon his ears, and as he turned his head

in the direction of the sound he was startled at the hideous aspect of

the thing which broke through the foliage before him.



What a horrid creature! But on the same instant his eyes fell upon

another borne in the arms of the terrible one. This one was

different--very different,--soft and beautiful and white. He wondered

what it all meant, for everything was strange and new to him; but when

he saw the eyes of the lovely one upon him, and her arms outstretched

toward him, though he did not understand the words upon her lips, he

knew that she was in distress. Something told him that it was the ugly

thing that carried her that was the author of her suffering.



Virginia Maxon had been half unconscious from fright when she suddenly

saw a white man, clothed in coarse, white, native pajamas, confronting

her and the misshapen beast that was bearing her away to what frightful

fate she could but conjecture.



At the sight of the man her voice returned with returning hope, and she

reached her arms toward him, calling upon him to save her. Although he

did not respond she thought that he understood for he sprang toward

them before her appeal was scarce uttered.



As before, when Sing had threatened to filch his new possession from

him, Number One held the girl with one hand while he met the attack of

this new assailant with the other; but here was very different metal

than had succumbed to him before.



It is true that Number Thirteen knew nothing whatever of personal

combat, but Number One had but little advantage of him in the matter of

experience, while the former was equipped with great natural

intelligence as well as steel muscles no whit less powerful than his

deformed predecessor.



So it was that the awful giant found his single hand helpless to cope

with the strength of his foeman, and in a brief instant felt powerful

fingers clutching at his throat. Still reluctant to surrender his hold

upon his prize, he beat futilely at the face of his enemy, but at last

the agony of choking compelled him to drop the girl and grapple madly

with the man who choked him with one hand and rained mighty and

merciless blows upon his face and head with the other.



His captive sank to the ground, too weak from the effects of nervous

shock to escape, and with horror-filled eyes watched the two who

battled over her. She saw that her would-be rescuer was young and

strong featured--all together a very fine specimen of manhood; and to

her great wonderment it was soon apparent that he was no unequal match

for the great mountain of muscle that he fought.



Both tore and struck and clawed and bit in the frenzy of mad, untutored

strife, rolling about on the soft carpet of the jungle almost

noiselessly except for their heavy breathing and an occasional

beast-like snarl from Number One. For several minutes they fought thus

until the younger man succeeded in getting both hands upon the throat

of his adversary, and then, choking relentlessly, he raised the brute

with him from the ground and rushed him fiercely backward against the

stem of a tree. Again and again he hurled the monstrous thing upon the

unyielding wood, until at last it hung helpless and inert in his

clutches, then he cast it from him, and without another glance at it

turned toward the girl.



Here was a problem indeed. Now that he had won her, what was he to do

with her? He was but an adult child, with the brain and brawn of a

man, and the ignorance and inexperience of the new-born. And so he

acted as a child acts, in imitation of what it has seen others do. The

brute had been carrying the lovely creature, therefore that must be the

thing for him to do, and so he stooped and gathered Virginia Maxon in

his great arms.



She tried to tell him that she could walk after a moment's rest, but it

was soon evident that he did not understand her, as a puzzled

expression came to his face and he did not put her down as she asked.

Instead he stood irresolute for a time, and then moved slowly through

the jungle. By chance his direction was toward the camp, and this fact

so relieved the girl's mind that presently she was far from loath to

remain quietly in his arms.



After a moment she gained courage to look up into his face. She

thought that she never had seen so marvellously clean cut features, or

a more high and noble countenance, and she wondered how it was that

this white man was upon the island and she not have known it. Possibly

he was a new arrival--his presence unguessed even by her father. That

he was neither English nor American was evident from the fact that he

could not understand her native tongue. Who could he be! What was he

doing upon their island!



As she watched his face he suddenly turned his eyes down upon her, and

as she looked hurriedly away she was furious with herself as she felt a

crimson flush mantle her cheek. The man only half sensed, in a vague

sort of way, the meaning of the tell tale color and the quickly averted

eyes; but he became suddenly aware of the pressure of her delicate body

against his, as he had not been before. Now he kept his eyes upon her

face as he walked, and a new emotion filled his breast. He did not

understand it, but it was very pleasant, and he knew that it was

because of the radiant thing that he carried in his arms.



The scream that had startled von Horn and Professor Maxon led them

along the trail toward the east coast of the island, and about halfway

of the distance they stumbled upon the dazed and bloody Sing just as he

was on the point of regaining consciousness.



"For God's sake, Sing, what is the matter?" cried von Horn. "Where is

Miss Maxon?"



"Big blute, he catchem Linee. Tly kill Sing. Head hit tlee. No see

any more. Wakee up--all glone," moaned the Chinaman as he tried to

gain his feet.



"Which way did he take her?" urged von Horn.



Sing's quick eyes scanned the surrounding jungle, and in a moment,

staggering to his feet, he cried, "Look see, klick! Foot plint!" and

ran, weak and reeling drunkenly, along the broad trail made by the

giant creature and its prey.



Von Horn and Professor Maxon followed closely in Sing's wake, the

younger man horrified by the terrible possibilities that obtruded

themselves into his imagination despite his every effort to assure

himself that no harm could come to Virginia Maxon before they reached

her. The girl's father had not spoken since they discovered that she

was missing from the campong, but his face was white and drawn; his

eyes wide and glassy as those of one whose mind is on the verge of

madness from a great nervous shock.



The trail of the creature was bewilderingly erratic. A dozen paces

straight through the underbrush, then a sharp turn at right angles for

no apparent reason, only to veer again suddenly in a new direction!

Thus, turning and twisting, the tortuous way led them toward the south

end of the island, until Sing, who was in advance, gave a sharp cry of

surprise.



"Klick! Look see!" he cried excitedly. "Blig blute dead--vely muchee

dead."



Von Horn rushed forward to where the Chinaman was leaning over the body

of Number One. Sure enough, the great brute lay motionless, its horrid

face even more hideous in death than in life, if it were possible. The

face was black, the tongue protruded, the skin was bruised from the

heavy fists of his assailant and the thick skull crushed and splintered

from terrific impact with the tree.



Professor Maxon leaned over von Horn's shoulder. "Ah, poor Number

One," he sighed, "that you should have come to such an untimely end--my

child, my child."



Von Horn looked at him, a tinge of compassion in his rather hard face.

It touched the man that his employer was at last shocked from the

obsession of his work to a realization of the love and duty he owed his

daughter; he thought that the professor's last words referred to

Virginia.



"Though there are twelve more," continued Professor Maxon, "you were my

first born son and I loved you most, dear child."



The younger man was horrified.



"My God, Professor!" he cried. "Are you mad? Can you call this thing

'child' and mourn over it when you do not yet know the fate of your own

daughter?"



Professor Maxon looked up sadly. "You do not understand, Dr. von

Horn," he replied coldly, "and you will oblige me, in the future, by

not again referring to the offspring of my labors as 'things.'"



With an ugly look upon his face von Horn turned his back upon the older

man--what little feeling of loyalty and affection he had ever felt for

him gone forever. Sing was looking about for evidences of the cause of

Number One's death and the probable direction in which Virginia Maxon

had disappeared.



"What on earth could have killed this enormous brute, Sing? Have you

any idea?" asked von Horn.



The Chinaman shook his head.



"No savvy," he replied. "Blig flight. Look see," and he pointed to

the torn and trampled turf, the broken bushes, and to one or two small

trees that had been snapped off by the impact of the two mighty bodies

that had struggled back and forth about the little clearing.



"This way," cried Sing presently, and started off once more into the

brush, but this time in a northwesterly direction, toward camp.



In silence the three men followed the new trail, all puzzled beyond

measure to account for the death of Number One at the hands of what

must have been a creature of superhuman strength. What could it have

been! It was impossible that any of the Malays or lascars could have

done the thing, and there were no other creatures, brute or human, upon

the island large enough to have coped even for an instant with the

ferocious brutality of the dead monster, except--von Horn's brain came

to a sudden halt at the thought. Could it be? There seemed no other

explanation. Virginia Maxon had been rescued from one soulless

monstrosity to fall into the hands of another equally irresponsible and

terrifying.



Others then must have escaped from the campong. Von Horn loosened his

guns in their holsters, and took a fresh grip upon his bull whip as he

urged Sing forward upon the trail. He wondered which one it was, but

not once did it occur to him that the latest result of Professor

Maxon's experiments could be the rescuer of Virginia Maxon. In his

mind he could see only the repulsive features of one of the others.



Quite unexpectedly they came upon the two, and with a shout von Horn

leaped forward, his bull whip upraised. Number Thirteen turned in

surprise at the cry, and sensing a new danger for her who lay in his

arms, he set her gently upon the ground behind him and advanced to meet

his assailant.



"Out of the way, you--monstrosity," cried von Horn. "If you have

harmed Miss Maxon I'll put a bullet in your heart!"



Number Thirteen did not understand the words that the other addressed

to him but he interpreted the man's actions as menacing, not to

himself, but to the creature he now considered his particular charge;

and so he met the advancing man, more to keep him from the girl than to

offer him bodily injury for he recognized him as one of the two who had

greeted his first dawning consciousness.



Von Horn, possibly intentionally, misinterpreted the other's motive,

and raising his bull whip struck Number Thirteen a vicious cut across

the face, at the same time levelling his revolver point blank at the

broad beast. But before ever he could pull the trigger an avalanche of

muscle was upon him, and he went down to the rotting vegetation of the

jungle with five sinewy fingers at his throat.



His revolver exploded harmlessly in the air, and then another hand

wrenched it from him and hurled it far into the underbrush. Number

Thirteen knew nothing of the danger of firearms, but the noise had

startled him and his experience with the stinging cut of the bull whip

convinced him that this other was some sort of instrument of torture of

which it would be as well to deprive his antagonist.



Virginia Maxon looked on in horror as she realized that her rescuer was

quickly choking Dr. von Horn to death. With a little cry she sprang to

her feet and ran toward them, just as her father emerged from the

underbrush through which he had been struggling in the trail of the

agile Chinaman and von Horn. Placing her hand upon the great wrist of

the giant she tried to drag his fingers from von Horn's throat,

pleading meanwhile with both voice and eyes for the life of the man she

thought loved her.



Again Number Thirteen translated the intent without understanding the

words, and releasing von Horn permitted him to rise. With a bound he

was upon his feet and at the same instant brought his other gun from

his side and levelled it upon the man who had released him; but as his

finger tightened upon the trigger Virginia Maxon sprang between them

and grasping von Horn's wrist deflected the muzzle of the gun just as

the cartridge exploded. Simultaneously Professor Maxon sprang from his

grasp and hurled him back with the superhuman strength of a maniac.



"Fool!" he cried. "What would you do? Kill--," and then of a sudden

he realized his daughter's presence and the necessity for keeping the

origin of the young giant from her knowledge.



"I am surprised at you, Dr. von Horn," he continued in a more level

voice. "You must indeed have forgotten yourself to thus attack a

stranger upon our island until you know whether he be friend or foe.

Come! Escort my daughter to the camp, while I make the proper

apologies to this gentleman." As he saw that both Virginia and von

Horn hesitated, he repeated his command in a peremptory tone, adding;

"Quick, now; do as I bid you."



The moment had given von Horn an opportunity to regain his

self-control, and realizing as well as did his employer, but from

another motive, the necessity of keeping the truth from the girl, he

took her arm and led her gently from the scene. At Professor Maxon's

direction Sing accompanied them.



Now in Number Thirteen's brief career he had known no other authority

than Professor Maxon's, and so it was that when his master laid a hand

upon his wrist he remained beside him while another walked away with

the lovely creature he had thought his very own.



Until after dark the professor kept the young man hidden in the jungle,

and then, safe from detection, led him back to the laboratory.



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