Dr. Croft joined in.
"There is no reason," he said, "why we should not tell them that this is merely the first consignment of glands—the remainder to follow later."
"No!" exclaimed Gran'pa. "Why should we lie to them? Within the next twenty-four hours this business is finished as far as I'm concerned. If the unrejuvenated like to go gland-hunting on their own, they're welcome to any information we can give them. That is an idea quite worth mentioning."
We had now reached the sanatorium, and adjourned the discussion until we had refreshed ourselves with food and drink. During the meal Sally Rebecca and Stringer arrived, looking rather hot and tired after their twenty-four-hour train journey. Their appetites, however, appeared to be much keener than usual, so they joined us immediately.
Feeling much brighter after our meal, we left Molly and Sally in charge of the matron and proceeded to the gymnasium, where Gran'pa was to deliver his eagerly-awaited speech.
Gran'pa, looking very spruce and cheerful, headed the procession, and as we filed in through the narrow doorway a low murmur of hope and joy rose from the assembled multitude. The noise increased in volume until at last it broke into wave upon wave of cheers.
Under happier circumstances, it would have been a scene to make one's heart glow with pride. Seventy-nine of the Club's members were there in all stages of dress and undress—a fine, well-nourished, brown-skinned, clean-shaven, athletic-looking gathering of hale old men, with a total of well over 5,000 years to their credit! The contrast, when one compared this with the inaugural meeting at Battersea, was indeed startling. Gone was the bushy assortment of whiskers, the array of bent backs, the staccato accompaniment of coughings, the throaty undertone one usually associates with excited old men. Sun, fresh air, colloidal potashes, and plenty of physical jerks had already produced marvellous results. Would that we could have gone still further, and wrought a miracle by providing a sufficiency of the little glandular engines of complete youth. . . .
One by one, we mounted the platform which had been erected for the occasion, bowed and then sat down.
So we faced one another, the Saviours, the Saved—and the Lost. . . .
Gran'pa took from one of his pockets a handful of little red beans and, from another, a much smaller supply of white ones. He placed them in two separate heaps on the table in front of him and, from the way some of the old people behaved, I believe that they were under the impression that these objects were the actual glands! In any case, the uproar became more deafening than ever!