"This is mutiny, sir!" cried Gran'pa. "I won't have such rebellious behavior on board of my ship. For two pins, I'd clap you in irons!" "Let me go! . . . I'll have you prosecuted! . . . D'you hear that?" "It--leaves--me--cold!" panted Gran'pa, struggling with him. "George! Give me a hand!" I elbowed my way through the surrounding crowd of other old men and tried to persuade our excitable friend that he was making himself very ridiculous. "Do remember where you are!" I scolded. "There are ladies aboard." (I couldn't see them, by the way.) "You might at least go and get decently dressed before continuing this discussion." "I'll give you a thousand pounds to put me back," he half sobbed. "I wouldn't do it for twenty!" cried Gran'pa. "It's a matter of principle. You're a coward, sir! _Pah! . . ._" Without further ado, we took hold of him very firmly by each arm and led him, still struggling and shouting, down below. "Now!" said Gran'pa, when the three of us were alone. "What the devil do you mean by making this infernal fuss? You've upset everyone aboard. What sort of an impression do you think those other old men will get? They'll be imagining all manner of unnerving things. If you don't shut up, I'll . . . wring your neck!" "You're a . . . damned great bully!" whimpered the rebel, feebly attempting to show some spirit. "Possibly! But someone has to be master here--and it's going to be me. Just get that into your thick skull. When we reach Africa you can go to blazes as far as I'm concerned. _I_ don't want to force you into rejuvenation. There are too many others deserving of it, without wasting our precious glands on a miserable coward who gets the wind up at the very commencement. Now get out of my sight, before I kick you out . . . !" As he crept shamefacedly away, I felt a little sorry for him. "After all," I said to Gran'pa, "there's some excuse--at his age." "Nonsense! The man's at least fifteen to twenty years younger than I am. Either he's beginning to feel sea-sick, or else he's funking the whole thing. Whatever it is, we can't have him demoralizing the rest of the old boys by such insane antics. Some of them were scared to death. An ill-balanced man like that aboard is a constant menace to the peace. He ought to have brought his nurse. . . . I must get Stringer to have a quiet little chat with him." So we put him into Stringer's capable hands--with the astounding result that next day the old man came and apologized to Gran'pa. "I . . . er . . . suddenly became very homesick. . . ." he explained, sheepishly. "I thought you were just . . . _sea_-sick," snapped Gran'pa. "However, you're all right now?" "Quite, thank you! I ask your pardon, Mr. Hadley." Gran'pa's features relaxed and he extended a hand of brotherly forgiveness. "Not another word, laddie!" he beamed. "I should have felt just the same at your age. . . ." It sounded like a father talking to a son--but it looked exactly the opposite.