"Yes! But not _spitefully_. Once a brute like that gets spiteful it's the very devil to pay. He'll start flinging earth about, screaming at people--doing anything he can to annoy or destroy." Gran'pa looked a little ashamed of himself (but very interested). "I can hardly believe that this affair will change his whole nature," he said. "At any rate, I sincerely hope not. I can only express my deepest regret, Mr. Boswell; and, as I said before, if there is anything I can do in the way of . . ." "It's knocked at least a good fifty pounds off his value . . ." observed the Menagerie Man, half to himself. "That's a rather high figure." "Well, we'll say forty. . . ." Gran'pa looked a little annoyed. But in the end he paid up, and half-an-hour later we were conveying the bruised and broken Stringer by car to a hospital, where he was eventually trussed up in splints and bandages and handed over to us again for removal to town. In the first class compartment which we reserved, he looked very quaint, sitting perfectly stiff and straight, with a couple of pillows behind his back. "THIS SIDE UP! WITH CARE!" I couldn't help thinking. "Any pain?" asked Gran'pa. "Not much! It's a numbed sensation--with a sharp twinge every now and again." He winced as we suddenly went rattling and swaying through a junction. "It was most unfortunate!" said Gran'pa. "Still, we live and learn. . . . I hope this hasn't made you change your mind." "No!" answered Stringer, biting his lip as we shot over a medley of joints in the line. I admired the man's courage. There was no doubt that he felt the pain far more than he cared to admit; and he had come through an ordeal such as few men would be willing to risk again. "You're the stuff we want on this expedition," said Gran'pa. "I'm proud of you, Stringer!" From Paddington Station we brought him home by taxi, put him to bed and then fought despairingly against the volley of questions which Molly had ready for us. "What's happened, Daddy?" she asked, a little wide-eyed at the vision of trussed humanity. "Oh! . . . A slight accident. Mr. Stringer has broken a rib or two, and we're letting him stay here until he's well again." "I know where you've been!" she said, when she had absorbed this item of news. "Who told you?" "I did, George!" answered Gran'pa. "Will you get it into your head that Molly is part and parcel of this expedition." "If you mean that she's coming gorilla-hunting with us . . ." I began, excitedly. "She'll come to Gaboon, anyway," he said, quietly. "It's absurd. The idea of a child of twelve . . ." "Daddy! You are _mean_!" she cried. "I shan't stop at home. If you leave me I . . . I shall run away . . . and I _won't_ go to school. . . ." "What's that, young woman?"