"If you'll excuse me," he said, "I think I'll have a little nap. I'm very tired."
"Do so by all means!" answered Gran'pa.
We had the carriage to ourselves, and Stringer immediately stretched himself out on the opposite seat, placed my suit-case under his head and dropped off to sleep as easily and naturally as a child.
"Queer chap . . ." whispered Gran'pa. "But what can one expect? A man with a power like his must be abnormal."
"Yes. . . . I suppose so!"
"He simply doesn't know what fear is. He handled that gorilla and chimpanzee at the Zoo like a mother of ten managing her latest arrival. And yet he'd never seen anything bigger than a pet monkey before."
I was astonished—but refused to show it in front of Gran'pa.
"How did you discover him?" I asked.
"Advertised, and then wrote and arranged an interview. He used to be a lion-tamer. At the same time, I fixed up with those menagerie people at Bristol to allow me a few minutes intercourse with their gorilla. They have what is supposed to be one of the finest specimens in Europe; and, what is better still, it's wild. Every attempt at taming it has proved useless."
"A sort of Alfred the Second," I suggested.