Sing Speaks

: The Monster Men

For a week Professor Maxon with von Horn and Sing sought for Virginia.

They could get no help from the natives of the long-house, who feared

the vengeance of Muda Saffir should he learn that they had aided the

white men upon his trail.



And always as the three hunted through the jungle and up and down the

river there lurked ever near a handful of the men of the tribe of the

two whom von Horn had murdered,
aiting for the chance that would give

them revenge and the heads of the three they followed. They feared the

guns of the white men too much to venture an open attack, and at night

the quarry never abated their watchfulness, so that days dragged on,

and still the three continued their hopeless quest unconscious of the

relentless foe that dogged their footsteps.



Von Horn was always searching for an opportunity to enlist the aid of

the friendly natives in an effort to regain the chest, but so far he

had found none who would agree to accompany him even in consideration

of a large share of the booty. It was the treasure alone which kept

him to the search for Virginia Maxon, and he made it a point to direct

the hunt always in the vicinity of the spot where it was buried, for a

great fear consumed him that Ninaka might return and claim it before he

had a chance to make away with it.



Three times during the week they returned and slept at the long-house,

hoping each time to learn that the natives had received some news of

her they sought, through the wonderful channels of communication that

seemed always open across the trackless jungle and up and down the

savage, lonely rivers.



For two days Bulan lay raving in the delirium of fever, while the

delicate girl, unused to hardship and exposure, watched over him and

nursed him with the loving tenderness and care of a young mother with

her first born.



For the most part the young giant's ravings were inarticulate, but now

and then Virginia heard her name linked with words of reverence and

worship. The man fought again the recent battles he had passed

through, and again suffered the long night watches beside the sleeping

girl who filled his heart. Then it was that she learned the truth of

his self-sacrificing devotion. The thing that puzzled her most was the

repetition of a number and a name which ran through all his

delirium--"Nine ninety nine Priscilla."



She could make neither head nor tail of it, nor was there another word

to give a clue to its meaning, so at last from constant repetition it

became a commonplace and she gave it no further thought.



The girl had given up hope that Bulan ever could recover, so weak and

emaciated had he become, and when the fever finally left him quite

suddenly she was positive that it was the beginning of the end. It was

on the morning of the seventh day since they had commenced their

wandering in search of the long-house that, as she sat watching him,

she saw his eyes resting upon her face with a look of recognition.



Gently she took his hand, and at the act he smiled at her very weakly.



"You are better, Bulan," she said. "You have been very sick, but now

you shall soon be well again."



She did not believe her own words, yet the mere saying of them gave her

renewed hope.



"Yes," replied the man. "I shall soon be well again. How long have I

been like this?"



"For two days," she replied.



"And you have watched over me alone in the jungle for two days?" he

asked incredulously.



"Had it been for life," she said in a low voice, "it would scarce have

repaid the debt I owe you."



For a long time he lay looking up into her eyes--longingly, wistfully.



"I wish that it had been for life," he said.



At first she did not quite realize what he meant, but presently the

tired and hopeless expression of his eyes brought to her a sudden

knowledge of his meaning.



"Oh, Bulan," she cried, "you must not say that. Why should you wish to

die?"



"Because I love you, Virginia," he replied. "And because, when you

know what I am, you will hate and loathe me."



On the girl's lips was an avowal of her own love, but as she bent

closer to whisper the words in his ear there came the sound of men

crashing through the jungle, and as she turned to face the peril that

she thought approaching, von Horn sprang into view, while directly

behind him came her father and Sing Lee.



Bulan saw them at the same instant, and as Virginia ran forward to

greet her father he staggered weakly to his feet. Von Horn was the

first to see the young giant, and with an oath sprang toward him,

drawing his revolver as he came.



"You beast," he cried. "We have caught you at last."



At the words Virginia turned back toward Bulan with a little scream of

warning and of horror. Professor Maxon was behind her.



"Shoot the monster, von Horn," he ordered. "Do not let him escape."



Bulan drew himself to his full height, and though he wavered from

weakness, yet he towered mighty and magnificent above the evil faced

man who menaced him.



"Shoot!" he said calmly. "Death cannot come too soon now."



At the same instant von Horn pulled the trigger. The giant's head fell

back, he staggered, whirled about, and crumpled to the earth just as

Virginia Maxon's arms closed about him.



Von Horn rushed close and pushing the girl aside pressed the muzzle of

his gun to Bulan's temple, but an avalanche of wrinkled, yellow skin

was upon him before he could pull the trigger a second time, and Sing

had hurled him back a dozen feet and snatched his weapon.



Moaning and sobbing Virginia threw herself upon the body of the man she

loved, while Professor Maxon hurried to her side to drag her away from

the soulless thing for whom he had once intended her.



Like a tigress the girl turned upon the two white men.



"You are murderers," she cried. "Cowardly murderers. Weak and

exhausted by fever he could not combat you, and so you have robbed the

world of one of the noblest men that God ever created."



"Hush!" cried Professor Maxon. "Hush, child, you do not know what you

say. The thing was a monster--a soulless monster."



At the words the girl looked up quickly at her father, a faint

realization of his meaning striking her like a blow in the face.



"What do you mean?" she whispered. "Who was he?"



It was von Horn who answered.



"No god created that," he said, with a contemptuous glance at the still

body of the man at their feet. "He was one of the creatures of your

father's mad experiments--the soulless thing for whose arms his insane

obsession doomed you. The thing at your feet, Virginia, was Number

Thirteen."



With a piteous little moan the girl turned back toward the body of the

young giant. A faltering step she took toward it, and then to the

horror of her father she sank upon her knees beside it and lifting the

man's head in her arms covered the face with kisses.



"Virginia!" cried the professor. "Are you mad, child?"



"I am not mad," she moaned, "not yet. I love him. Man or monster, it

would have been all the same to me, for I loved him."



Her father turned away, burying his face in his hands.



"God!" he muttered. "What an awful punishment you have visited upon me

for the sin of the thing I did."



The silence which followed was broken by Sing who had kneeled opposite

Virginia upon the other side of Bulan, where he was feeling the giant's

wrists and pressing his ear close above his heart.



"Do'n cly, Linee," said the kindly old Chinaman. "Him no dlead."

Then, as he poured a pinch of brownish powder into the man's mouth from

a tiny sack he had brought forth from the depths of one of his sleeves:

"Him no mlonster either, Linee. Him white man, alsame Mlaxon. Sing

know."



The girl looked up at him in gratitude.



"He is not dead, Sing? He will live?" she cried. "I don't care about

anything else, Sing, if you will only make him live."



"Him live. Gettem lilee flesh wounds. Las all."



"What do you mean by saying that he is not a monster?" demanded von

Horn.



"You waitee, you dam flool," cried Sing. "I tellee lot more I know.

You waitee I flixee him, and then, by God, I flixee you."



Von Horn took a menacing step toward the Chinaman, his face black with

wrath, but Professor Maxon interposed.



"This has gone quite far enough, Doctor von Horn," he said. "It may be

that we acted hastily. I do not know, of course, what Sing means, but

I intend to find out. He has been very faithful to us, and deserves

every consideration."



Von Horn stepped back, still scowling. Sing poured a little water

between Bulan's lips, and then asked Professor Maxon for his brandy

flask. With the first few drops of the fiery liquid the giant's

eyelids moved, and a moment later he raised them and looked about him.



The first face he saw was Virginia's. It was full of love and

compassion.



"They have not told you yet?" he asked.



"Yes," she replied. "They have told me, but it makes no difference.

You have given me the right to say it, Bulan, and I do say it now

again, before them all--I love you, and that is all there is that makes

any difference."



A look of happiness lighted his face momentarily, only to fade as

quickly as it had come.



"No, Virginia," he said, sadly, "it would not be right. It would be

wicked. I am not a human being. I am only a soulless monster. You

cannot mate with such as I. You must go away with your father. Soon

you will forget me."



"Never, Bulan!" cried the girl, determinedly.



The man was about to attempt to dissuade her, when Sing interrupted.



"You keepee still, Bulan," he said. "You wait till Sing tellee. You

no mlonster. Mlaxon he no makee you. Sing he find you in low bloat

jus' outsidee cove. You dummy. No know nothing. No know namee. No

know where comee from. No talkee.



"Sing he jes' hearee Mlaxon tellee Hornee 'bout Nlumber Thlirteen. How

he makee him for Linee. Makee Linee mally him. Sing he know what

kindee fleaks Mlaxon makee. Linee always good to old Sing. Sing he

been peeking thlu clack in wallee. See blig vlat where Thlirteen

growing.



"Sing he takee you to Sing's shackee that night. Hide you till

evlybody sleep. Then he sneak you in workee shop. Kickee over vlat.

Leaves you. Nex' mlorning Mlaxon makee blig hulabaloo. Dance up and

downee. Whoop! Thlirteen clome too soonee, but allight; him finee,

perfec' man. Whoop!



"Anyway, you heap better for Linee than one Mlaxon's fleaks," he

concluded, turning toward Bulan.



"You are lying, you yellow devil," cried von Horn.



The Chinaman turned his shrewd, slant eyes malevolently upon the doctor.



"Sing lies?" he hissed. "Mabbeso Sing lies when he ask what for you

glet Bludleen steal tleasure. But Lajah Saffir he come and spoil it

all while you tly glet Linee to the ship--Sing knows.



"Then you tellee Mlaxon Thlirteen steal Linee. You lie then and you

knew you lie. You lie again when Thlirteen savee Linee flom Oulang

Outang--you say you savee Linee.



"Then you make bad talkee with Lajah Saffir at long-house. Sing hear

you all timee. You tly getee tleasure away from Dlyaks for your self.

Then--"



"Stop!" roared von Horn. "Stop! You lying yellow sneak, before I put

a bullet in you."



"Both of you may stop now," said Professor Maxon authoritatively.

"There have been charges made here that cannot go unnoticed. Can you

prove these things Sing?" he asked turning to the Chinaman.



"I plove much by Bludleen's lascar. Bludleen tell him all 'bout

Hornee. I plove some more by Dyak chief at long-house. He knows lots.

Lajah Saffir tell him. It all tlue, Mlaxon."



"And it is true about this man--the thing that you have told us is

true? He is not one of those created in the laboratory?"



"No, Mlaxon. You no makee fine young man like Blulan--you know lat,

Mlaxon. You makee One, Two, Thlee--all up to Twelve. All fleaks. You

ought to know, Mlaxon, lat you no can makee a Blulan."



During these revelations Bulan had sat with his eyes fixed upon the

Chinaman. There was a puzzled expression upon his wan, blood-streaked

face. It was as though he were trying to wrest from the inner temple

of his consciousness a vague and tantalizing memory that eluded him

each time that he felt he had it within his grasp--the key to the

strange riddle that hid his origin.



The girl kneeled close beside him, one small hand in his. Hope and

happiness had supplanted the sorrow in her face. She tore the hem from

her skirt, to bandage the bloody furrow that creased the man's temple.

Professor Maxon stood silently by, watching the loving tenderness that

marked each deft, little movement of her strong, brown hands.



The revelations of the past few minutes had shocked the old man into

stupefied silence. It was difficult, almost impossible, for him to

believe that Sing had spoken the truth and that this man was not one of

the creatures of his own creation; yet from the bottom of his heart he

prayed that it might prove the truth, for he saw that his daughter

loved the man with a love that would be stayed by no obstacle or bound

by no man-made law, or social custom.



The Chinaman's indictment of von Horn had come as an added blow to

Professor Maxon, but it had brought its own supporting evidence in the

flood of recollections it had induced in the professor's mind. Now he

recalled a hundred chance incidents and conversations with his

assistant that pointed squarely toward the man's disloyalty and

villainy. He wondered that he had been so blind as not to have

suspected his lieutenant long before.



Virginia had at last succeeded in adjusting her rude bandage and

stopping the flow of blood. Bulan had risen weakly to his feet. The

girl supported him upon one side, and Sing upon the other. Professor

Maxon approached the little group.



"I do not know what to make of all that Sing has told us," he said.

"If you are not Number Thirteen who are you? Where did you come from?

It seems very strange indeed--impossible, in fact. However, if you

will explain who you are, I shall be glad

to--ah--consider--ah--permitting you to pay court to my daughter."



"I do not know who I am," replied Bulan. "I had always thought that I

was only Number Thirteen, until Sing just spoke. Now I have a faint

recollection of drifting for days upon the sea in an open boat--beyond

that all is blank. I shall not force my attentions upon Virginia until

I can prove my identity, and that my past is one which I can lay before

her without shame--until then I shall not see her."



"You shall do nothing of the kind," cried the girl. "You love me, and

I you. My father intended to force me to marry you while he still

thought that you were a soulless thing. Now that it is quite apparent

that you are a human being, and a gentleman, he hesitates, but I do

not. As I have told you before, it makes no difference to me what you

are. You have told me that you love me. You have demonstrated a love

that is high, and noble, and self-sacrificing. More than that no girl

needs to know. I am satisfied to be the wife of Bulan--if Bulan is

satisfied to have the daughter of the man who has so cruelly wronged

him."



An arm went around the girl's shoulders and drew her close to the man

she had glorified with her loyalty and her love. The other hand was

stretched out toward Professor Maxon.



"Professor," said Bulan, "in the face of what Sing has told us, in the

face of a disinterested comparison between myself and the miserable

creatures of your experiments, is it not folly to suppose that I am one

of them? Some day I shall recall my past, until that time shall prove

my worthiness I shall not ask for Virginia's hand, and in this decision

she must concur, for the truth might reveal some insurmountable

obstacle to our marriage. In the meantime let us be friends,

professor, for we are both actuated by the same desire--the welfare and

happiness of your daughter."



The old man stepped forward and took Bulan's hand. The expression of

doubt and worry had left his face.



"I cannot believe," he said, "that you are other than a gentleman, and

if, in my desire to protect Virginia, I have said aught to wound you I

ask your forgiveness."



Bulan responded only with a tighter pressure of the hand.



"And now," said the professor, "let us return to the long-house. I

wish to have a few words in private with you, von Horn," and he turned

to face his assistant, but the man had disappeared.



"Where is Doctor von Horn?" exclaimed the scientist, addressing Sing.



"Hornee, him vamoose long time 'go," replied the Chinaman. "He hear

all he likee."



Slowly the little party wound along the jungle trail, and in less than

a mile, to Virginia's infinite surprise, came out upon the river and

the long-house that she and Bulan had searched for in vain.



"And to think," she cried, "that all these awful days we have been

almost within sound of your voices. What strange freak of fate sent

you to us today?"



"We had about given up hope," replied her father, "when Sing suggested

to me that we cut across the highlands that separate this valley from

the one adjoining it upon the northeast, where we should strike other

tribes and from them glean some clue to your whereabouts in case your

abductors had attempted to carry you back to the sea by another route.

This seemed likely in view of the fact that we were assured by enemies

of Muda Saffir that you were not in his possession, and that the river

we were bound for would lead your captors most quickly out of the

domains of that rascally Malay. You may imagine our surprise,

Virginia, when after proceeding for but a mile we discovered you."



No sooner had the party entered the verandah of the long-house than

Professor Maxon made inquiries for von Horn, only to learn that he had

departed up stream in a prahu with several warriors whom he had engaged

to accompany him on a "hunting expedition," having explained that the

white girl had been found and was being brought to the long-house.



The chief further explained that he had done his best to dissuade the

white man from so rash an act, as he was going directly into the



country of the tribe of the two men he had killed, and there was little

chance that he ever would come out alive.



While they were still discussing von Horn's act, and wondering at his

intentions, a native on the verandah cried out in astonishment,

pointing down the river. As they looked in the direction he indicated

all saw a graceful, white cutter gliding around a nearby turn. At the

oars were white clad American sailors, and in the stern two officers in

the uniform of the United States navy.



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