WE INSPECT ALFRED
It turned out later that Gran'pa had already approached half-a-dozen
medical men on the question of the operation, but they had all refused
to undertake such a case.
So the next day I had the following advertisement inserted in the Agony
Column of the _Times_:--
IN THE INTERESTS OF SCIENCE.--Old gentleman of ninety-five, with A1
brains but B1 physique, desires to get into touch with a reliable
and enterprising surgeon, who believes in the new theory of
rejuvenation, with a view to immediate Glandular Graftings.
I must admit that the wording was reminiscent of the typical
matrimonial appeal, but as the advertiser's identity was concealed from
the British public by means of a box number, it seemed to matter very
little what method was employed so long as the result was a success.
I am thankful to say that it was. In spite of my fears that
professional etiquette might stand in the way, I received over twenty
replies from medical men living in various parts of the country. All
of them were willing, and even anxious, to perform the operation, but
apparently not one was in possession of the necessary glands. This
was an annoying detail, but such setbacks appear to be inevitable
in the initial stages of all great enterprises. The day may come
when interstitial glands will form part of the medical, or rather,
physiological equipment of every practitioner in the land, but
meanwhile we had to hustle for ourselves.
So I advertised for a monkey as well.
"Gorilla, chimpanzee or ourang-outang wanted at once," I scribbled on a
scrap of notepaper.
Then I judiciously added:--
"For travelling showman. Must be healthy and virile. State price
and how long the animal has been resident in England."
A couple of days later half-a-dozen replies were received and Gran'pa
and I spent the evening in sorting out the most suitable doctor and
ape, preparatory to bringing them together in this novel "triangle" of
surgeon, man and monkey.
"You've done very well, George, so far," said Gran'pa. "That was a
bright idea of mine to offer you . . ."
"I've told you before, sir, that I should have helped in any case."
"Have it your own way, my boy. So long as I'm satisfied, what's it
matter?"
"Not a cent. But I won't have you thinking that greed is my only
motive. I'm keenly interested in the experiment for quite different
reasons. Firstly, you're a relative of mine, and I want to see you
happy and contented. Secondly, I feel like one of the pioneers or
patrons of modern science."
"You'll have the biggest chance of your life as still another sort of
pioneer, if this is a success."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Ah! It is just an idea, at present. But it'll set the world talking,
if I decide to take it up."
"Do tell me, Gran'pa!"
"No! One thing at a time, my boy. Just concentrate on getting that five
thousand dollars first, and . . ."
"Will you leave that infernal bonus out of the question!" I cried.
"I apologize! Just concentrate on my rejuvenation, then! Oh, by the
way, I want you to come round to my solicitor in the morning and sign
the agreement I've drawn up."
"You've done nothing so absurd, I hope, as to put this idiotic bargain
on paper."
"No! It's on parchment. I believe in everything being shipshape--in
case of accidents. Now, don't start arguing, George!"
Gran'pa is the most obstinate old man I know; so I refrained from
further discussion, and the following day repaired with him to his
solicitors at Lincoln's Inn.
There, we signed a contract which must have been unique in the annals
of legal literature. It ran thus:--
MEMORANDUM OF AGREEMENT made this eighteenth day of October, One
thousand nine hundred and twenty-one, BETWEEN GEORGE BARNETT
and CHARLES HENRY HADLEY, both of Northcote, Airesdale Avenue,
Richmond, in the County of Surrey.
WHEREBY IT IS AGREED as follows:--
1. George Barnett shall make himself reasonably conversant with
the possibilities of rejuvenation by means of the grafting of
interstitial glands; he shall do all that is in his power to hasten
the application of the process to the said Charles Henry Hadley,
to make arrangements for the operation; and to provide suitable
comforts and accommodation during the patient's convalescence.
2. Furthermore, George Barnett shall apply himself diligently
to helping the said Charles Henry Hadley to maintain a state of
healthy activity during the remaining years of the latter's life.
3. In consideration of which, Charles Henry Hadley shall pay to
George Barnett the following sums of money:
(_a_) Five thousand dollars on the receipt of a medical certificate
that the operation has been successful.
(_b_) Ten thousand dollars for each whole year during which the
said Charles Henry Hadley shall remain alive, commencing to reckon
as from this date, and payment being made within one month after
the expiration of each year.
(_c_) On the death of Charles Henry Hadley, the said George Barnett
or his heirs shall receive one-fiftieth part of the former's estate
for each completed year of life.
AS WITNESS the hands of both contracting parties.
We signed the document, and I turned to Gran'pa.
"Er--that clause about one-fiftieth part of the estate." I said. "Does
it mean that you expect to add another fifty years to your life?"
"It does!" he replied.
I whistled.
"Phew! I shall be a doddering old man myself by then."
"Nonsense! You'll avoid that by adopting my methods. Only you'll start
earlier in life."
"Never! When my glands give out--I shall!"
"The same sort of argument used to be brought forward about
vaccination--the 'Let-Nature-take-its-own-course' cry. . . . Even
to-day there are anti-vaccination cranks."
"That's different. Vaccination is a safeguard against disease."
"Quite so. And this is a safeguard against something much worse than
disease. It's an antidote to Death."
I could again feel the inclination to argue surging up in me, but I
remembered my dignity and desisted.
"I wish you would tell me about this other 'pioneer' stunt of yours," I
said, as we emerged into the sunlit courtyard.
"In the fulness of time."
"I'm terribly curious."
"You won't be able to contain yourself when you do know. It's been one
of your dreams--and mine. Well! You look like having your chance at
last, George. If only the new glands work," he added, in parenthesis.
There was a possibility, of course, that this other secret and alluring
project of Gran'pa's was merely a bait to keep my enthusiasm alive. I
suggested this to him, in the hope that he would relent and satisfy my
curiosity.
"No, George! You must be patient. If you'd lived as long as I have
you'd learn to take things in logical order. First the glands,
then--the glory!"
We had now reached the busy street again--a new world after the
peaceful vicinity of those old offices--and Gran'pa bought an evening
paper. He was always buying papers now!
Glancing hurriedly through the headings, he gave vent to a sudden
exclamation.
"Ah!"
"What is it?" I asked, looking over his shoulder.
He retreated into a doorway, sheltered from the stream of hurrying
pedestrians and there pointed to a heading:--
TEST CASE.
And underneath:--
EXPERIMENT ON AN AGED CONVICT.
I read the following details:--
"A _Herald_ dispatch from San Francisco states that after a convict
was hanged at San Quentin Penitentiary, yesterday, for the murder
of his mother-in-law, the murderer's interstitial glands were cut
out and transplanted in a sixty-year-old convict as an experiment
for the purpose of verifying the recent theory of rejuvenation
by this process. The doctors expect that new physical and mental
strength will be thereby given to the aged convict."
"There you are!" cried Gran'pa. "That's the Americans all over. They've
begun already." He looked at me wistfully. "I did hope that I might
have had the honor of being the first."
"You'll be a good second, anyhow," I said encouragingly. "Cheer up!"
He was about to fold the paper and put it into his pocket, when we
caught sight of the following:--
BOLT FROM THE BLUE.
"Considerable excitement was caused in Upper Richmond Road,
Richmond, this morning by a monkey suddenly dropping from the
overhanging branch of a tree into the lap of a lady seated on the
top of a passing 'bus.
"Pursued by the other passengers, it scrambled down the rail at
the rear and rushed across the street, where it tried to scale a
garden wall. After a few minutes exciting chase, it was eventually
captured by a constable, who, much to the amusement of the crowd,
took it to the police station.
"Questioned by our correspondent, the authorities stated that,
although no charge had been preferred against the animal for
causing an obstruction, it had been placed temporarily under lock
and key, and is now awaiting its owner."
"Well, I'm . . . er . . . poor little brute!" exclaimed Gran'pa.
"Are you going to claim it?" I asked.
He hesitated a moment, but, brief as his contemplation of the
matter was, I think that he immediately realized the impossibility
of an old man of ninety-five calling at a police station for a
monkey--particularly at a time like the present. Naturally, his secret
would be guessed at once.
"No!" he said, with quiet dignity. "I shan't want it in any case, now.
They'll probably send it to the Dogs' Home at Battersea, or Scotland
Yard--or the Zoo. Let them! . . . Er . . . as I was going to say,
George, about that sixty-year-old convict, the Americans are a very
go-ahead race. I should like _you_ to pop over to the States some
day. . . ."
Already, he was beginning to look into the rosy future!
"We _must_ travel," he went on, pensively. "I'm getting bored. I've
always wanted to see the world, but when I was younger I hadn't
the money; and when I grew older I hadn't the necessary health and
vitality. Life is full of anomalies like that, George."
"It is," I agreed, ruefully.
"But this business will do away with such difficulties. There's a big
future before us."
I responded to that last word. It had a generous sound about it and
awoke ambitions I had buried over a dozen years ago, when an unkind
fate had allowed me to pass into the soul-destroying ranks of the Civil
Service. Ugh! How I had vegetated since that ghastly day on which the
list of "successful" candidates had been published! How the spirit of
adventure had been slowly suffocated! How flabby-minded I had become!
How mellow! But now at last there was a door opening. My red-tape-bound
soul stirred in its prison and peered out at a strip of sunlit country
where free men made of life a joyous adventure.
"You're a great man, Gran'pa," I said. "You make me feel quite old
beside you."
He dug me good-humoredly in the ribs.
"There are times, George, when I have thought you were rather a
stick-in-the-mud. But I've put it down to your job, and the fact that
you are British."
"I wish my brains had fizzled out in the examination room and I'd run
away to sea."
"Ah! That's the spirit. You'll be useless on this new job I shall have
for you, unless you're full of fire. It'll require courage, initiative
and plenty of _go_. There's only one member of the whole family who has
those qualities at present."
I waited for what I thought would be the inevitable reference to
himself. But it didn't come.
"You can't guess who it is, George?"
"No----!"
"It's Molly, of course. It was she who first put me on to this gland
business. That, if you like, required courage and initiative. There's a
great future before Molly. She's being lost in England, and I hope when
the time comes that she'll join us in the venture."
He still wouldn't tell me what this Great Idea was, but when I reached
home that evening a thought suddenly struck me. I went in search of
Molly, caught sight of her sitting on the top branch of the walnut
tree, and shouted for her to come down.
She descended slowly and carefully.
"You shouldn't have gone up there," I said. "It is very dangerous. I
thought you couldn't climb the walnut tree."
"Nor did I, till I tried hard, Daddy."
"How often have you done this?"
"Only twice. I thought the monkey might have built a nest."
I dared not tell her of its present abode in case she began clamoring
for its return. So I asked, innocently:
"And had he?"
"I don't think so. But it was fun up there! I wish you'd come, Daddy.
Gran'pa says _he_ will when he's got those new glands."
"That reminds me," I said. "Has he told you anything about what he
intends doing when he has the glands? I mean anything more important
than just climbing trees."
Molly looked down in pensive consideration. She had evidently been
caught unawares.
"Out with it, my child!"
"Daddy--I can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because I promised Gran'pa I wouldn't tell. He made me swear, like
this."
She moistened her right forefinger with the tip of her tongue and drew
an imaginary cross in front of her throat and chest. (The wicked old
sinner, intimidating my twelve-year-old offspring in this manner!)
"Are we all in this--little adventure?" I persisted.
She held her lips tightly together and stared at me in mute appeal.
Evidently we _were_ all in it! Her eyes shone and I could see that she
would have gloried in telling me. Nevertheless, for her oath's sake, I
pressed her no further.
"It's all very, very mysterious," I murmured.
"Never mind, Daddy," she whispered. "You'll soon know all about it!"
It was very good of her to try and soothe my wounded feelings thus, and
I felt more determined than ever to hasten that operation on Gran'pa
and reap the rich reward which was apparently awaiting all three of
us. Far too much time had already been wasted. To Gran'pa it may
have represented only one little negligible week in a life of nearly
a hundred years, but to me it seemed ages since my enthusiasm had
been first awakened. I was eager to complete the contract, to handle
that five thousand dollars, to witness the rejuvenation of my aged
ancestor-in-law, and, above all, to escape from my Government prison
into the great wide spaces of the earth.
As if in answer to my wild desires, Gran'pa came out and joined us in
the garden, waving a letter aloft in childish glee.
"Just come by post, George!" he cried.
"What has?"
"A note from that man with the gorilla. He wants us to go round and see
it this evening."
I read the letter with feverish interest. It was written on a scrap of
dirty paper with a blunt pencil, and told us that "Alfred" had been
landed in England only five weeks previously. He was in "excellent
health," as "hard as nails," extremely "vichous," but capable of being
"broken in and trained"--if that was what we wanted him for!
"This is the very thing!" I exclaimed, presently. "We'll go at once."
"But--dinner, George?" stammered Gran'pa.
"Oh! That can wait. He says between seven and eight. It is nearly seven
now, and it's silly to risk getting there too late."
We hurried indoors, bustled into our hats and coats, and made for the
station.
Three-quarters of an hour later we were ushered into the presence of
the "Great Animal King," a travelling showman of huge and formidable
dimensions, but with the manners of a babe.
"This 'ere animull, gentlemen," he explained, as though he was
addressing an audience at a fair, "is one as I bought about four weeks
ago at an auction sale. I wasn't really in need of it, as you might
say, but it was goin' pretty cheap, and I thought it might come in
'andy later on. An' now I 'ave got it, I can't bring myself to like
it, somehow. All the other animulls know me and, if I might say so, we
has a slight affection for one another. But this brute's the queerest
cuss I ever struck--ups and snarls at me every time I approaches the
cage, an' begins rattling the bars like a maniac. He's as quiet as a
mouse with the other chaps. It's me he don't seem to like." He spat
expressively. "There's the truth in a nutshell. Now we'll go and take a
look at him."
We withdrew from the elaborately fitted caravan in which we had
foregathered, and began picking our way through a maze of ropes,
tent-pegs and that general litter of obstacles which invariably
surrounds the tents of a travelling circus or menagerie. As we
approached the largest of the tents, a deep-throated roar burst on
us like a sudden clap of thunder. It was followed by a medley of
trumpet-like calls and bellowings. The whole place, which had been as
silent as the grave when we had first arrived, was now a den of enraged
and ravening animals. It was as if they were trying their utmost to
scare us away.
"They seem to be very--noisy," I ventured.
"Queer things," answered the Great Animal King. "They spots a stranger
at once at this time o' night. Must be the smell."
I glanced at Gran'pa, trotting along by my side, and wondered whether
it was he or I who most irritated their sensitive nostrils.
"Here we are!" said our companion, lifting a great flap of canvas and
allowing us to enter.
We passed into the huge arena, waited a moment until the electric light
was switched on, and then began gazing at the startled animals pacing
backwards and forwards behind the iron bars of their prisons.
"That's a fine brute," said the King, pointing to a great lion, which
suddenly paused and eyed Gran'pa with interest.
"Y-e-s!" I said.
I didn't like the business a bit. There was something so uncanny in
the spectacle of us three poor little humans surrounded by all his
collection of carnivorous and hungry-looking beasts. It didn't feel
safe, and the object of our visit didn't seem right and fair. It may
have been an epitome of brains _versus_ beef--civilization _versus_
barbarism--but the whole affair savored too much of wicked cunning and
evil intentions. The right and gentlemanly thing would have been for
Gran'pa to have gone into that gorilla's cage unarmed--and fought for
his glands. . . .
I turned and looked at the old man. He was very quiet and
solemn--obsessed, no doubt, by the same thoughts as myself.
"This way, gentlemen," said our companion.
We went forward again and a few moments later the first part of our
Quest for Youth was over.
"There!" said his Majesty, with a contemplative expectoration. "That's
Alfred!"
For fully half a minute, there was no movement in the cage, and we
merely stood gazing at a heap of slowly rising and falling straw.
Then an arm and leg protruded and stretched themselves. They were
followed by one of the most hideous-looking faces imaginable.
Deep-sunk, wicked little eyes glared at us from beneath heavy,
overhanging ridges of bone; a cavernous mouth yawned wide open, with
dreadful rows of huge teeth fringing its black-gummed edges; a thick
tuft of hair oscillated up and down above the low forehead; and
suddenly a nerve-shattering roar reverberated against the wooden walls
of the cage.
With a bound the animal sprang forward, flung its arm between two
of the iron bars and tried to grab Gran'pa by his most cherished
adornment--his long white beard.
"Look out!" I cried.
The old man jumped nimbly aside, giving a shout of amazement and
clumsily treading on my toes.
I steadied him.
"You really ought to be more careful," I said, glancing at the Animal
King, who was chuckling to himself.
"That chap's the very devil when he's roused," said his owner.
"_Quiet_, Alfred!"
Alfred restrained himself for a moment or two, watching Gran'pa as a
cat watches a mouse. There was evidently something in the old man which
aroused his curiosity, as well as his anger. Or it may have been an
instinctive understanding of the reason of the visit. Who knows?
"George," said Gran'pa, with heartless precision, "we shan't do better
than this."
A roar from the cage greeted this remark, and Alfred flung himself at
the bars and rattled and shook at them in abandoned fury.
"May I ask, gentlemen, if you're going to try and train it?" inquired
the King. "Or do you want it wild?"
Gran'pa looked at him for a second or two, abstractedly.
"I don't care how wild it is. In fact the wilder, the stronger, and the
more vicious--the better."
"Then you've the goods in that cage. I've handled some of these brutes
in my time. But this 'un takes the biscuit."
"No trace of consumption, I suppose?" asked Gran'pa, like a young
bridegroom who has been converted to Eugenics.
"I'd eat me 'at! Look at 'im!"
Roar upon roar beat the air, as Alfred told us in his dumb, animal-like
way exactly what he would do if he had only a chance.
"Quite so!" said Gran'pa. "Let's get out of here!"
Ten minutes later arrangements had been made for the safe custody of
the animal up to and including the following Wednesday, when we hoped
to have Gran'pa ready to receive a couple of Alfred's glands.
It was indeed a great day's work, and when we left that home of brute
barbarism I couldn't help patting the old man's back.
"Satisfied?" I asked.
He answered with the deepest emotion.
"George!" he said. "I'm not a greedy man. All I ask for is about a
quarter of that brute's energy. Then I'll be happy!"