"Y-e-s! I think I've pretty well solved it at last. Roughly, my plan is to wait in the cage with Stringer, call the gorilla to us, hold him for a moment or two with the magnetic gaze, and then let him have a whiff or two of gas!"
"Do you mean poison gas?" I gasped.
"Not exactly! We shall stupefy him and make him unconscious, if possible, but the stuff mustn't go beyond that. It won't have to leave any injurious effects behind. I've already ascertained that such a thing is possible."
"Your ingenuity is . . . limitless!" I exclaimed.
"It's necessary . . ." he answered, simply.
"I should think it is! Upon my word, Gran'pa!"
"Ah! Here's our friend the circus proprietor!"
He had just returned from issuing orders to some of his men and looked very pensive.
"I'm sorry all this trouble should have occurred, Mr. Boswell," said Gran'pa. "Particularly the episode with the knife. . . . If there is any monetary compensation I can make, I hope you won't fail to . . ."
"Well," interrupted the other. "I think you've knocked a good bit off his value. He's never been exactly gentle in his ways, but he's a thousand times worse now than ever he was." He paused and then said, expressively: "I've just had another look at him. . . ."