They hurried on. When they reached the crest of the rise Lockie lay before them, and they could see the monstrous figure crossing a tiny stream in the valley below.
They were gaining rapidly now. Dawn was breaking and the cold pale light allowed them a dear view.
The creature ahead of them was toiling painfully up the slope which led to Lockie. Suddenly a man issued from the house. It was Erckmann and in his hand he carried a formidable whip.
Less than two hundred yards away Dick and his companions halted spellbound. In some mysterious fashion they realised that they were to witness the last act in the terrible drama.
The end came swiftly. More and more slowly, almost crawling at last, the strange creature approached Erckmann and at length, evidently utterly exhausted, collapsed at his feet in a heap.
They heard the scientist shout something unintelligible. Then he raised his heavy whip and struck with fearful force at the unfortunate thing which lay before him.
It was a fatal mistake. With the speed of lightning the misshapen heap on the ground flashed into furious activity. All the horrified spectators saw was an instantaneous leap and a brief struggle, and Erckmann and the Thing locked in a deadly grapple and then drop motionless.
Dick covered the last hundred yards in a furious dash. But he was too late. Erckmann lay dead, with his adversary dead on top of him. The zoologist had been killed almost instantly by the grip of two large hands that still encircled his neck in a vice-like clutch, and in his throat the misshapen fangs of the creature were still buried deeply. Only with infinite trouble was the body of the scientist freed from that deadly grapple, and they were able to examine the monster that had spread terror and death through Argyllshire.
Unmistakably the body was that of a man, but incredibly dehumanised and ape-like. The muscular development was tremendous; the hands and arms were knotted masses of titanic muscle. But the crowning horror was the face—low-browed, flat-nosed, with a tremendous jaw and long pointed teeth, utterly unlike anything human. The body, stark naked, was covered thickly with hair and in the side was a terrible wound evidently made by the impact of a soft-nosed bullet from one of the automatic pistols. No normal human being could have survived it for more than a few minutes.
It was only later, when they searched Lockie, that they realised fully that Erckmann had fallen a victim to a monster he had himself created. His diaries proved that Chatry had spoken the truth. They were a repellent but horribly fascinating account of his experiments. Of the results he had written in a wealth of detail, but of the process he employed there was not even a hint. That awful secret he had kept to himself, and had taken with him to his grave.