“What do you want?” asked Two-Legs. “I have neither time nor inclination to listen to your drivel.”
“Now don’t be hasty, cousin,” said the orang-outang and sat down beside him. “I acknowledge your success. You have been lucky. It does not enter my head to deny your ability. You have managed things splendidly. That little business with the horse was really smartly done. And, now that you have outwitted the lion....”
“What do you want, you bothersome brute?” said Two-Legs.
“I want to join forces with you, cousin,” said the orang-outang. “We two as partners ought to conquer the world.”
“Are you mad?” said Two-Legs. “What should I do with such a ridiculous, stupid beast as you? You’re no more use to me than a pigeon. Away with you! Look sharp or I’ll give you a thrashing which you won’t forget in a hurry.”
The orang-outang retreated a few paces, but did not give up the game:
“You should think it over all the same, cousin,” he said. “However clever you may be, I can be of use to you still. I should be a good intermediary between you and the animals. I can do things you can’t; and what I can’t do I can easily learn. Up in the apple-tree where I sat, I have watched you and studied the way you went about your field; and I have already picked up many of your tricks. You must know that....”
Two-Legs stood up and caught the orang-outang by the arm:
“Come outside!” he shouted into the house. “I want to show you something!”