He was about to return to our boat when he suddenly thought of the dead gorilla.
"We'd better have this fellow's glands put into cold storage. A pity to waste them. . . . If you'll just wait a moment I'll light up and you can come aboard. It's quite safe now, George. . . ."
I held my peace—mainly because I had no adequate reply—but even when we did go aboard I could feel cold shivers running up and down my back.
"Did you count the gorillas below?" I asked.
"What a man you are!" laughed Gran'pa. "Yes! I read the roll call twice. There was a full attendance."
I could see that he was in a taunting mood, so I flattered him a little.
"You had nerve," I said, "to come on this deck in the dark."
He put his hand on my shoulder good-humoredly.
"George," he replied, "you never seem able to see both sides of the question. That gorilla had scores of hiding-places; but I had just as many, minus one—the one being the particular spot he was in at any given moment. He may have had the beef, too; but I had the brains—and a loaded revolver. I was sorry for that poor, misguided brute the second my socks touched the deck."
How simple everything always was when Gran'pa explained!