In horror and indignation, Meldrum continued to gaze. As fast as the baboon’s whisky was gulped down Needham filled its glass again. From the fact that he did not fill his own very frequently, Meldrum concluded that he did not drink every time he pretended to do so—apparently deceiving the befuddled creature.
Like a flash, Meldrum remembered Needham’s remark about the intoxicated baboon and autosuggestion. And with a fast beating heart he gripped his revolver and waited.
From being limp and sluggish, the ape now began to show signs of animation. It sat more erect, its eyes began to glitter, and occasionally it turned its head and gazed at Norton who still sat in apparent stupefaction. Every time it did this it seemed to grin at Needham with frightful suggestiveness, nodding its head as it had done when in the cage at the menagerie.
Fearing he knew not what mischief, Meldrum went quietly and hurriedly to the front door, opened it with extreme caution, and managed to make his way undetected to the door of the room in which the trio sat. Through the half open doorway, he could now get a view of Needham’s face, and its diabolical contortions were dreadful to behold. It was apparent that he was working the animal up to something, but what that something was the creature apparently did not quite seem to grasp.
Presently Needham made the strange clucking noise in his throat, at the same time stretching out his arms toward Norton. That gave the brute its clue. It rose unsteadily to its feet, and turning its evil eyes toward the recumbent figure of Norton, seemed about to spring at his throat.
With a crash, Meldrum kicked open the door and entered the room, covering Needham with his revolver. The baboon, its attention distracted by the noise of Meldrum’s entry and apparently finding Needham’s influence withdrawn, now appeared to feel the full effect of the whisky fumes once more, and sank back into the armchair more fuddled than ever. Norton had by this time fallen back in his seat, his head tilted toward the ceiling. Needham, however, has his wits about him, and his ghastly yellow face, convulsed with fury, attempted to force a sickly smile.
“Needham,” said Meldrum sternly, “I don’t know what abominable deviltry you are up to, but it must stop here and now. If you can right things here go ahead. If not, I shoot—either you or the brute, I am not particular which.”
Although outwardly calm, Meldrum’s heart was beating furiously and he was hunting desperately in his mind for the proper way to handle the situation. It was not clear to him as yet.
“Why, Meldrum!” said Needham in a thick voice, cunningly feigning drunkenness, although he was perfectly sober. “What’s all this? Revolvers? We are all friends. Norton had a drop too much—old man baboon dropped in and joined the party—I was going to get him to do some tricks....”
“That’s quite enough,” said Meldrum sharply. “You are no more drunk than I am. Open that window and let Norton have some air. Loosen his collar—”