"No," said Ewing firmly."I said
I'd teach him, and I will."
After that people saw to it that Johnny and McGinty never met. That was all right with Johnny. He was more interested in his own studies, and in the Central Park bears. Came the day when Ink approached him with a look that Johnny interpreted as signifying an internal struggle: whether physical or mental he couldn't say. Ink stood up, waved a paw at Johnny, and with infinite difficulty managed to groan: "You... Dzon-nee!"
Johnny sat up and banged his fore-paws together."Fine! On'y it's Johnny."
"Dzon-ny!" repeated Ink. Another internal crisis shook him, and then, indicating himself, he ground out: "Me... Hink!"
"Fine! Fine!" encouraged Johnny.
Ink opened his mouth soundlessly a couple of times, then gasped: "What... ' what—" He struggled over some question that was no doubt vital to him, but the words would not come. Johnny could sympathize. He remembered his own feeling of futile struggle to put into intelligible form all the thoughts that had swarmed into his mind when he recovered from his own Methuen treatment.
When one of Johnny's fellow students—human—suggested that he come out for football practice, Johnny's insatiable curiosity led him to go along. As it happened, Coach Cohn was feeling irascible. When he finished telling his first string that they ought to wear lace on their uniforms and bring knitting, he roared: "I bet even that bear could do better. Here, Johnny, take right guard in the scrub line for a little scrimmage."
Johnny, still curious, did as he was instructed. When the ball was snapped, they explained, he was to push through the opposing line and tackle the man with the ball. It was as simple as that.
It was almost too simple. Johnny pushed through the line and tackled the opposing fullback, a youth named Vleck, before Mr. Vleck knew what was happening to him. For that matter he didn't learn what had happened to him until a few minutes later, when he came to. Johnny, meanwhile, turned back to the group surrounding the varsity guard and tackle, between whom he had pushed. Both were lying still and pale, except that the guard, one Martinelli, moaned a bit because of a broken rib. The tackle would be all right when he recovered consciousness.
Cohn shook his head."Too bad. He'd make a perfect lineman. But nobody would play with us. Too bad. What we wouldn't do to Ford-ham—"
Ewing, for all his good intentions, couldn't keep Johnny and McGinty apart indefinitely. One day Johnny strolled into Ewing's office to report on his studies and found McGinty alone. McGinty was lying on his back on Ewing's desk and smoking four of Ewing's cigarettes at once, one in each hand. He jumped up, scattering sparks and ash, and cried: "Hello, Johnny, how's the old boy?"
Johnny was somewhat taken aback by McGinty's cordiality and linguistic fluency. But he merely said: "Fine. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I speak pretty well, don't I? Just like a man. Men are a bore, aren't they? Always wanting you to do things at certain times.".
"Werr," said Johnny, "you have to do sings at some time."
"Me, I like to do things when I feel like it. They don't understand me. When I want to throw inkwells out the window, I've just got to throw inkwells out the window."
"Have you been srowing inkwerrs out ze window?" asked Johnny, shocked.
"Sure; just the other day."
"Why?"
"You sound just like a man. -They're always asking me why I did this or that. I tell them I just felt like it, but that doesn't satisfy them. How should I know why I feel lifte throwing inkwells? Say!" McGinty suddenly looked sharply at Johnny."I remember why I threw them. It had to do with you. I'd gotten bored with spelling lessons and wanted to play. And Ewing told me you hadn't approved of giving me the brain treatment. I suppose he wanted to encourage me."
"So you srew ze inkwerrs?"
"So I threw the inkwells. But have you been poisoning Ewing's mind against me?"
"No, not at awr."
"No, huh? Did you say he oughtn't to give me the Methuen treatment?"
"No," Johnny lied stoutly.
But McGinty, a suspicious gleam in his yellow eyes, went on: "I bet you did. I just bet. It's like you. You're jealous because you aren't the only animal with brains any more."
"I never—" said Johnny.
But McGinty continued: "I remember when you jumped on me in the hall. I had to use that chain to protect myself. You bully! You bum!"
"What do you mean, protect—" "You stuck-up! You animated rug! You flea hotel!" McGinty's voice rose with each epithet until it reached a scream."I won't stand it! I won't! I won't! I'll fix you! I'll tear you to pieces!" Mc-
McGinty snatched the two inkwells off Ewing's desk. The first went wild. The second was well aimed, but Johnny's lightning reflexes came into play. He dodged and made for McGinty with a squall of rage.
McGinty leaped over Ewing's desk, yelling: "Don't you touch me! I'll tell Ewing! He'll fix you! He'll vivisect you!" He grabbed up two fistfuls of Ewing's papers and threw them futilely at Johnny. Johnny leaped through the storm of paper clear over the desk, fetching up with a crash against a filing cabinet. But McGinty ducked through the knee-hole under the desk and leaped to a chair and thence to the ceiling-light fixture, shrieking: "Help! He's killing me! Help, Dr. Ewing!"
Johnny disengaged himself from the wreck of the filing cabinet just as Ewing and his secretary entered the room. The light fixture came out by the roots just then, and down came McGinty in a shower of plaster.
"Oh, my Lord!" yelled Ewing, surveying his office.
McGinty ran over to him, hugged his waist, and buried his face in Ewing's midriff, crying: "Save me! Don't let him kill me!"
In answer to Ewing's questions, McGinty began pouring out a fanciful account of the preceding events. Johnny tried to break in once or twice. He gave that up, took out Ewing's typewriter, inserted a piece of paper, and with his claws typed:
REPORT ON THE PECULIAR BEHAVIOR OF McGINTY THE CHIMPANZEE
BY JOHNNY BLACK
After that, Ewing saw to it that Johnny and McGinty were not allowed to come within a mile of one another when out of their cages. Johnny, watching his bears' minds grow and burrowing into his own studies, wondered vaguely what McGinty would do next. But, he told himself, it wasn't his business. If McGinty did something horrible to his human mentors, or vice versa, it would probably serve both right.
The months rolled by, though Greater New York still was fascinated by the spectacle of a truck filled with eight bears, ranging from Kobuk, the sixteen-hundred-pound Kodiak, clown to Dato, the diminutive Malayan sun bear, making its four-times-weekly trip between the Central Park Zoo and the Bronx.
April came, and April is a special month in a bear's calendar. Theretofore the two female blacks, Susie and Nokomis, had been just a couple of bears to him—as he had been to them. Now things were different.
Ink objected violently."Rook here!" he squalled."I do not mind one of my girrs. But bot' is no fair."
Johnny, who outweighed Ink by one hundred and fifty pounds, was unimpressed."I can't he'p it if zey rike me better," he said loftily.
"Is zat so?" Ink bared his teeth and swung; not a playful cuff, such as they were always dealing out, but a slash that sent fur flying and drew blood.
Johnny pitched into Ink. Before much damage had been done, Kobuk came in from the adjoining cage. The keepers, at the bears' request, had left the intercage gates unlocked.
Ink scrambled free and scuttled into a corner, wailing: "No fair! No fair!"
"Don't make no difference," rumbled Kobuk."Johnny boss. He smart. What boss want he get, understand?"
Ink understood. Thus Johnny became the acknowledged leader of the bear faction. The other bears looked up to him, anyway, since he knew so much more than they, who could just about talk intelligibly. And if any of them became obstreperous, there was always Kobuk's support. Kobuk fairly idolized Johnny, and what he said went.