He and the professor were talking in the workshop of the remarkable progress of Number Thirteen toward a complete mastery of English and the ways and manners of society, in which von Horn had been assisting his employer to train the young giant. The breach between the latter and von Horn had been patched over by Professor Maxon’s explanations to Number Thirteen as soon as the young man was able to comprehend—in the meantime it had been necessary to keep von Horn out of the workshop except when the giant was confined in his own room off the larger one. Von Horn had been particularly anxious, for the furtherance of certain plans he had in mind, to effect a reconciliation with Number Thirteen, to reach a basis of friendship with the young man, and had left no stone unturned to accomplish this result. To this end he had spent considerable time with Number Thirteen, coaching him in English and in the ethics of human association. “He is progressing splendidly, Doctor,” Professor Maxon had said. “It will be but a matter of a day or so when I can introduce him to Virginia, but we must be careful that she has no inkling of his origin until mutual affection has gained a sure foothold between them.” “And if that should not occur?” questioned von Horn. “I should prefer that they mated voluntarily,” replied the professor, the strange gleam leaping to his eyes at the suggestion of possible antagonism to his cherished plan, “but if not, then they shall be compelled by the force of my authority—they both belong to me, body and soul.” “You will wait for the final consummation of your desires until you return with them to civilization, I presume,” said von Horn. “And why?” returned the professor. “I can wed them here myself—it would be the surer way—yes, that is what I shall do.” It was this determination on the part of Professor Maxon that decided von Horn to act at once. Further, it lent a reasonable justification for his purposed act. Shortly after their talk the older man left the workshop, and von Horn took the opportunity to inaugurate the second move of his campaign. Number Thirteen was sitting near a window which let upon the inner court, busy with the rudiments of written English. Von Horn approached him. “You are getting along nicely, Jack,” he said kindly, looking over the other’s shoulder and using the