Monkey Business at Gibraltar

by

Guy Gilpatric

Version 1.2

 A STREAKY pall of smoke hung low over the bay. Most of it was coming from the funnels of the anchored convoy that filled the roadstead from the inner moles to well beyond Europa Point, while the rest-it formed the lighter streaks -had drifted across the strait from brush fires burning on the African mountainsides. Rising above it against the dazzling noonday blue, the Rock of Gibraltar loomed like a gigantic lion basking in the sun.
Mr. Glencannon stood straddled in the cockpit of a shorebound water taxi, balancing himself against the slap and surge and gazing up at the great limestone bulk as it dwarfed the arsenals, the dockyards and the clustering town. In the course of a long and distinguished career as an engineer of ocean tramps, he had beheld Gibraltar times without number, and always with profound emotion. Others might call it the hub of the world, a symbol of modern might, and, in particularly obnoxious cases, even liken it to a gigantic lion basking in the sun, but Mr. Glencannon had never subscribed to any such grandiloquent tosh. To him, Gibraltar's significance was personal, practical, real.
"Hail! Hail to thee, prood rock! Lang may ye wave!" he addressed it with simple reverence. "Within thy noble shadow, whusky sells for six bob less per bottle than anywhere else in the British Empire!"
At the North Mole landing stage, the native boatman was reluctant to accept a Japanese five-yen note in payment of the fare; this led to a brief exchange of views, at the conclusion of which Mr. Glencannon removed his brass knuckles and strolled leisurely up through the public market place. Placards in the windows of the several pubs fronting upon the square announced that by order of the provost marshal, the establishments would remain closed until evening gunfire at 1700, but to a sophisticated traveler with a sensitive nose, this intelligence was of interest only in exemplifying man's inhumanity to man. Turning into a dank alley somewhere beyond the Casemate Barracks, he halted at a doorway which bore carved upon its lintel the two-thumbed hand of Mohammed's daughter Fatima, reminder of the long-ago day when British Gibraltar was Moorish Djebel Tarik.
"Noo, here," he said, "if my memory sairves. is a vurra snug little shebeen in whuch to improve a shining hour." He rapped upon the nail-studded door in a special manner. After due interval, it was opened by an old lady with one tooth and three warts, who greeted him effusively in Spanish.
"Cheerio, senior, and a vurra bonus tart to usted!" he responded, dropping effortlessly into the pure Castilian. " I have como to get uno drinko o' whusky, or pairhops duo, three-o or four-o. Right-o?"
"Si, y bien lo sabe usted," she assured him flashing her tooth in a coquettish smile. He bowed his way past her into a narrow, pitch-black passage and waited until she had opened a door at the far end of it. Framed in the oblong of light, he saw a little two-wheeled cart painted in camouflage and marked with the stenciled broad arrow which identifies His Majesty's ordnance property.
Instead of the machine-gun ammunition which it had been designed to carry, the cart was loaded with bananas, kumquats, turnips and other vegetables.
"Ah, foosho'" cried Mr. Glencannon in dismay. "Have usted turned this place into a domn green grocerio, senior?' I didna come aqui to swillo el tomato juice! I-
He was interrupted by a low rumbling mutter which came through the doorway from somewhere beyond the vegetable cart It was a human voice, but what a voice!
"Ah, whurra, there's something rodically wrong!'' it was saying petulantly. Noo, two-and-six for kumquats plus five-and-eight for banonas mak's eight-and-two, plus five-and-four for turnips mak's theerteen-and-six, plus six-and-a-penny for carrots mak's nineteen-and-seven- weel, call it an even poond and buy another drink-plus-er -no, no, wait! Ah, great swith! I've left oot the six and four for the cobbages! Tsk, tsk, tsk! Weel. I bocht the cobbages before I bocht the turnips, and I bocht the turnips before I bocht the carrots, so noo I'll have to go clear back to the kumquats and figure it oot all ower again! Domn!"
Something dark shot out from behind the edge of the door and struck the cart with a resounding crash.   For an instant, Mr. Glencannon mistook the object for a valise, then recognized it as a hobnailed infantry boot of mammoth proportions.   The ankle   above it wore a gaiter like the cover of a ham, the leg - a veritable Pillar of Hercules - was sheathed in a green woolen stocking topped with the red-and-heather tartan of the Argyll and Dumbarton Highlanders.
Mr. Glencannon knew that there could be but two such legs in Gibraltar, if not in the entire world. "Why, Cousin Dooglas!"  he cried,  hurrying  into  the room. "Foncy meeting you!"
"Cousin Colin!" boomed the giant, rising to greet him, but having a good six inches to go when his head thumped the ceiling. "Weel, weel, weel! Weel, weel, weel! Weel, weel, w-
"Yes, I know," said Mr. Glencannon. But guid heavens!   Cousin Dooglas, yere lips are all blue!   Have ye got the dengoo fever, lad?"
"M'm?" The Highlander wiped his mouth with his hand, considered the indigo smear on the palm and then wiped the palm on the seat of his kilt. "No," he growled, his sweat-beaded brow clouding. "No. 'Tis only the undullable pencil whuch I've been wurrking oot some vurra cumplex prublems in mothermometry with." He gestured helplessly toward a chewed pencil stump and a litter of printed government forms on the table "Cousin Colin, ye've come at an opportune moment! Pray sit ye doon, dear lad, and figure oot this mess for me, won't ye?"
"All in guid time, all in guid time! Dinna be so impatient!" said Mr. Glencannon settling into a chair "Hoo, senior!" he addressed the proprietress.  "Duo o' Duggan's Dewo! Si, and while usted are about it, ye micht as weel fetcho el bottle and leave it aqui. . .  And noo, Cousin Dooglas, ye can go ahead and tell me the news. Why, may I ask, have they sent ye back here from the front in Italy?"
"I'm-oh - weel, ye see, every time I started digging mysel' a foxhole. I'd strike bedrock before it was deep enough to fit me At feerst they thocht they'd sumply retire me for auld age, but when they realized what a scondal it wud be to lose the benefit o' my twunty-eight years' experience in the sairvice, they put me in commond back here."
"In commond?'' Why, Cousin Dooglas! Ye're only a sergeant!"
"What's so only aboot it?'" demanded the giant tartly. "Haven't ye heard that What's-His-Name -er - that nosty little Hun - oh. you know the twirp I mean! - anyway, he was only a corporal, wasn't he?"
"Aye, Dooglas, but dinna be evasive. What I meant was, what are ye in commond of?"
"A-weel " Cousin Douglas reddened with embarrassment and beneath the table his feet shuffled with a sound like cases of machinery being dragged across a wharf. "Er - " He gulped his drink as though to bolster his courage for a confession. " I'm in commond o' the apes, that's who I'm in commond of!" he blurted, glowering defiantly.
"The-er-Apes?" Mr. Glencannon raised his eyebrows. "D'ye mean lik' the Wrens-an auxiliary corps o' lady Highlanders or summat such?"
"No. I mean apes," said Cousin Douglas, still scowling. "Barbary apes. The kind that are pink and purple in the south. Surely, ye must have heard o' the wurrld-famous apes o' Gibraltar, Colin! "
Mr. Glencannon groomed his walrus mustache with his lower lip. "Aye, noo that ye speak o' it, I foncy I have. Noturally, I always dismussed it as a mere auld wives' tale, cooked  up to swundle the tourists in peacetime. D'ye mean to say it's really true?"
"O' course it's true!" cried Cousin Douglas, beginning to regain his confidence.  "Why, the apes o' Gibraltar are among the most cherished traditions o' the Empire!  There's even an auld provairb whuch says, quoot,  'When the I apes leave the Rock, the British will go with them.'"
Mr. Glencannon sniffed skeptically. "Go where''" he asked. "What for?"
"How shud I know?" said Cousin Douglas.  "Domn it all, Cousin Colin, I didna invent the provairb!  I'm only telling ye what Auld Stickychin told me, and he ocht to know!"
"Auld Stickychin?'' Weel, it s a fitting name for an ape who'd go aroond drooling silly provairbs to the ignorant soldiery!"
Cousin Douglas pushed back his Glengarry and dashed the sweat of exasperation from his brow.
"But Auld Stickychin isn't an ape! He's Major the Richt Reeverend Stickley Chenwith, Senior Choplain o' the Fortress o' Gibraltar! The War Office sent him down here to write a book aboot the history and traditions o' the Rock."
"H'mph! Worse and worse!" scoffed Mr. Glencannon. "Things have come to a pretty pass for us taxpayers, when the army sends a major choplain to Gibraltar to scribble books aboot ossinine traditions and a seeven-foot sergeant to be chambermaid to a pack o' apes!"
"But- but domn it. Cousin Colin-these apes here on Gib are the only apes on the entire continent o' Europe! They're uniquee! Some think the Moors brocht them from Africa and some think they came ower through a tunnel under the strait-in any case, they've been here since time immoral. The great prublem noo, the thing whuch worrits the government so much, is that they dinna fructify. Consequently, they're getting fewer and fewer and are in danger o' becoming extink."
"Indeed?" Mr. Glencannon stifled a yawn with his glass. "Exockly how fewer and fewer o" them are there, Dooglas?"
The Highlander produced a notebook from his sporran and frowned at it importantly, "Ahem! As o' yesterday, they mustered a strength o' exockly theerty-seeven-er-no, wait! Um-" He counted on his fingers "Theerty-four and one mak' theerty-five and one more mak's theerty-six doesn't it? Aye, and that reminds me, Cousin Colin. Won't ye please help me figure oot these domn ration forms?' I've sumply got to get yon vegetables up to the Rock."
Mr. Glencannon sighed, drew one of the documents to him and scanned it listlessly. On it, in a smeared and almost illegible scrawl, were Cousin Douglas' calculations.
Mr. Glencannon ran his eye down the column of figures, then turned and scanned the contents of the vegetable cart appraisingly. "Why, Dooglas," he said, his interest visibly aroused, "am I to understond that they give ye cauld hard cash in bond to buy all yon ape fodder with?"
"Aye, and that's only the feerst o' my respunsibilites!  After I've bocht the stuff in the market, I have to drog it two miles through the broiling heat to O'Hara's Tower, where the apes hong oot Then, I --"
"How much cash do they give ye, Dooglas?'"
"One poond cash per ape per month. Ye see-"
"Foosh! Ye're domn richt, I see!" Mr. Glencnnnon's fist crashed down upon the table. "I see sitting before me the stuppidest gowk that e'er disgraced the blessed name o' Glencannon! Ye've been contenting yersel' with robbing the apes o' a few pitiful pennies while letting the vurritable wealth o' Crocus slip through yere clumsy fingers! Shame, shame upon ye, ye hulking lump!"
"Um?" Cousin Douglas shrank back against the wall and considered his fingers blankly.  His lower lip trembled. Two tears, each a brimming teaspoonful, rolled down his beefy cheeks and spattered-plop!  plop!-upon the floor.  Ah, please!" he begged.  "Dinna scold me, dinna be cross with me!"
"Vurra weel!" said Mr. Glencannon sternly. "Drink some more whusky and brace up, and try to onswer my questions."
"Whuch questions?" asked Cousin Douglas, drying his tears on his kilt and reaching for the bottle.
Mr. Glencannon sat back, frowning and blowing smoke toward the ceiling. "Weel, in the feerst place, ye're drawing doon theerty-six quid each month for feeding theerty-six apes. If there were more apes, ye'd draw more money. Is that richt?"
"Aye, but ---"
"Wait! I want ye to think vurra hard and tell me exockly what these theerty-six apes look lik'."
Cousin Douglas thought. "They look almost exockly lik' theerty-six apes," he said. "One end o' them ye already know aboot and the rest is hairy and even uglier."
"How big are they?"
"They 're roughly aboot as big as a dog."
"Roughly aboot as big as a dog aboot how big do ye mean?"
"Aboot as big as a dog aboot up to yere knee."
"Ah, precisely! And noo" - Mr. Glencannon leaned across the table impressively and shook his pipe stem in his cousin's face-"and noo, aboot how big wud ye say the baby ones are?"
"I cudna say because I've never seen one," said Cousin Douglas, blinking a gob of pipe gravy from his eye. "I dinna ken anybody who has. There's none been born for years and years."
"Copital! Copital! But noo, just supposing ye shud see one when ye go up there this afternoon, what wud ye do aboot it?"
"Oh, my orders in such an event are vurra clear. Feerst I'd have to lug the wee bairn doon from the Rock and get it exomined by Veterinary Sergeant Joe Pyle. If Joe was sober enough, whuch he sometimes is, he and I wud tak' it ower and show it to Auld Stickychin. Auld Stickychin wud register its birth in his history o' Gibraltar and have it entered on the ration roll, so's I cud draw one quid cash per month for it."
"Ha! And if ye brocht doon another wee ape a week from noo and still another one ten days after that, and so on at reasonable intervals, ye'd draw a quid more per month for each and every one o' them?"
"Aye, the more the merrier! As I told ye before, the government is woritting aboot them becoming extink, so-"
"So noo its worrits are ower! Haw!" His face wreathed in smiles. Mr. Glencannon reached up and slapped his cousin resoundingly upon the shoulder. He filled the glasses to the brim, raised them politely and drained them one after the other. " Dooglas, you and 1 are about to render a great and patriotic sairvice to the Empire! I want ye to listen vurra, vurra closely to the plon I'm a boot to unfold."
Shortly after five o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Glencannon again entered the nail-studded portal beneath the two-thumbed hand of Fatima and waited in the passage until the single-toothed lady with the three warts had opened the door at the far end of it. This time there was revealed no vegetable cart, no infantry boot the size of a valise, but a pair of thin and very bowed legs encased in cavalry breeches and puttees.
"Cousin Dooglas!" he cried, hurrying into the room as before   "I'm sorra I'm late, but - er - Oh, I beg yere pairdon, sir!"
"It's quite orl right, quite orl right!" said the owner of the legs, a horsy-looking gentleman of a certain age whose uniform identified him as a   veterinary sergeant of the 117th Lancers. "If it's Duggie Glencannon yer looking for,  'e should he 'ere any minute, sir.  'Appens I've got a dyte with  'im meself.   'Ere, 'ave a chair, won'tcher?"
"Why, yes, thonks, I will," said Mr. Glencannon, with a diffident but charming bow.   "I am Muster Colin Glencannon, Esquire, Sergeant Dooglas Glencannon's cousin.   I'm chief engineer o' the Inchcliffe Castle, one o' the mognificent ships oot there in yonder convoy. While we're waiting for Dooglas, I wonder wud ye care to join me in a modest sowp o' whusky, sir''"
"Coo, not arf I wouldn't!" said the other, with enthusiasm.   "This 'ere beer mykes me belly slosh abaht like a ruddy foundered 'orse's!  There, just listen to it! I'm Veterinary Sergeant Joseph Pyle, Mr. Glencannon - Honest Doc Pyle I was, in civil life, and I wish to 'ell I was back there now!   If yer 'appened to be down at Aintree fer the Grand National  in Nineteen Twenty-one, per'aps yer'll remember my nyme in connection with the big 'orse-doping scandal of that year."
"Aye. Why, o' course, o' course!" cried Mr. Glencannon, who had passed the whole of 1921 in the South China coastal trade. "Weel, weel, weel, it's a small wurrld, isn't it? What are ye doing here at Gibraltar, Sergeant Pyle?"
"H'mph! Cooling me ruddy 'eels and going to seed, that's wot I'm doing! I ain't 'ad me 'ands on a decent case o' glanders, spavin, epizootic or blind staggers since they mechanized the cavalry and tinned orl the 'orses fer bully-beef. The only veterinary practice I get nowadays is on the apes."
"The-er - Apes?" Mr. Glencannon raised  his eyebrows. "D'ye mean lik' the Wrens-an auxiliary corps o' lady horse doctors or summat such?"
"No, I mean apes- Barbary apes," said Sergeant Pyle sourly; "the narsty, 'airy beggars that the gov'ment 'as got mucking arahnd 'ere on Gibraltar Rock, though gorblime if I knows wot for.  Yer Cousin Duggie can  tell yer orl  abaht 'em, if yer intristid, which I most definitely ain't. As a matter of fack, Duggie telephoned down from O'Hara's Tower a while ago that a new ape's just been born, and that's wot I'm wyting 'ere to see 'im abaht."
"Congrotulations to one and all o' us!" said Mr. Glencannon, filling the glasses again." I haven't seen Dooglas since the feerst year o' the war but I sent a message ashore to him this morning on the odd chonce he cud meet me here. How is the dear lad, sergeant?'
"Welp, Duggie ain't no brighter than usual and even a sight less, to be perfickly candid with yer, Mr. Glencannon. If yer should 'appen to arsk my opinion as a medical man, I'd say e'd outgrown 'is brains in boy'ood and they've never caught up with 'im since."
Mr. Glencannon pursed his lips and nodded sagely. "A vurra shrewd and peenetrating diagnosis, sir." he said.
There was a knocking at the outer door that shook the house to its foundations and Cousin Douglas burst into the room He was carrying a khaki duffel bag, which he deposited upon the table.
"Joey!" he boomed "The apes! They've fructified! They've- they've-er-Eh? Oh, why, hello there Cousin Colin. They just noo delivered me yere message, and ye've come at a hoppy and historic moment! Pairdon me half a jifiick, dear lad, till I show Sergeant Pyle what the angels have brocht!"
He loosened the strings of the bag and stood back dramatically. Out of it leaped a little gray beast with the face of a very old and very evil Irishman. Pausing only to sink its teeth in Cousin Douglas' thumb, it sprang to the lamp bracket, swung by its tail for a moment and then dropped down upon Mr. Glencannon's shoulder. It perched there chattering volubly and searching his scalp for fleas.
"Weel, weel, weel! What an itsy bitsy-witsy 'ittle darling!" he exclaimed twisting his head and beaming at it. "Kitchy-witchy-wee!" He tickled it in the ribs. "No - haw-haw-please, sweetie! Uncle's mustosh is oot o' bounds!"
"Um, mum -playful little beggar isn't he?" mumbled Cousin Douglas sucking his thumb. "Weel, Joey, ye can plainly see he's a pairfict physical specimen, so what d'ye say we have a drink or two and then lug him ower to Auld Stickychin's? I foncy I ocht to restore him to his parents as soon as possible."
"Oh, do yer?" Veterinary Sergeant Pyle's horsy front teeth were bared in a derisive grin. "Well, ain't that just too lovely of yer! The only trouble is, I'm afryde yer'll find it's a long swim to Brazil!"
"Brazil?" said Cousin Douglas vacantly. "What kind of a Brazil?"
"The kind of a Brazil where that there full-grown, long-tyled Brazilian monkey came from, that's wot kind of a Brazil!" said Sergeant Pyle. With a disdainful snort, he turned his back upon the Highlander and confronted Mr. Glencannon. "Now look 'ere, chum. I don't know much abaht apes, but I do know they 'aven't got no tyles. I don't know much abaht you, neither, but I've been around touts, 'orse tryders and dog thieves orl me life, and I can spot a crook as far as I can see one. You might as well come clean and tell me wot yer gyme is!"
"My-er-game?" Mr. Glencannon's mien was severe and his tone as cold as ice. "I dinna comprehend yere meaning, sir, but I am forced to point oot that yere monner is distinctly offensive."
"Oh, come, climb down off yer 'igh 'orse!" said Sergeant Pyle, winking and poking him in the ribs most insolently. "I suspected there was sumping fishy cooking when Duggie phoned me from the Rock! Do yer really think I can't see through this little swindle-you and yer cousin and yer precious monkey? Why, yer've simply brought Jocko ashore from yer ship, so's Duggie can palm 'im off as a baby ape whenever 'e feels like it and draw down an extra quid a month each time! Maybe Old Stickychin won't know the difference, but me-welp, I wasn't born yestiddy."
Mr. Glencannon stiffened. His brows beetled with righteous indignation and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down like a glass ball in a shooting gallery.
"Noo, see here, my guid mon," he said severely. "I feel it my duty to warn ye that yere thinly veiled insinuations, insofar as they impugn my ain pairsonal integrity, are o' a nature to entail the gravest consequences to yersel'. And while, o' course, I canna obsolutely vouch for Sergeant Dooglas Glencannon, for, after all, no mon is his brother's keeper, much less his cousin's, and Dooglas, unfoortunately, has for many years been exposed to the demoralizing influences o' the brutal and licentious soldiery o' whuch you, Sergeant Pyle, are a depraved but typical exomple- still, a-hem! as I was aboot to say, I have every confidence that he, too, can look ye unflinchingly in the eye and state that everything ye've said is sheer fobrication and a tissue o' scurrilous lies. . . . Cousin Dooglas!" He turned to the Highlander and addressed him very slowly and distinctly. "I osk ye to look this mon unflinchingly in the eye and state that everything he has said is sheer fobrication and a tissue o' scurrilous lies."
"Sheer fobrication and at issue a squirrel's lies. There, how's that?" demanded the giant, beaming proudly. "Oh, but, Joe, there was one thing ye said whuch ye were wrong aboot, though! That monkey really doesna belang to Cousin Colin at all. Haw-haw-haw! Losh, no! He went back aboard his ship just a while ago and stole it off the mate. . . . Aye, didn't ye, Cousin Colin?"
Mr. Glencannon uttered a strangled cry. He cast the monkey from his shoulder and started for the Highlander, a set of brass knuckles on each fist and a deadly glint in his eye.
"Gempmen! Gempmen! Please!" Sergeant Pyle thrust himself between them. "Wot's orl this ruddy 'ullabaloo abaht, anyway? Gorblime, Mr. Glencannon, from the way you tyke on, a body'd think you was the first bloke in the world to get caught springing a ringer. Why, it's 'appened to some of the smartest sportsmen on the turf, and I 'ope yer won't think I'm bragging when I say so."
Mr. Glencannon's fists unclenched and his arms drooped limp at his sides. "Weel, I'm licked!" he admitted, slumping down into a chair. "I'm licked, and I know it. Ah, whurra! I thocht I had at last assured mysel' o' a modest but steady income from the government, lik' being in the Civil Service, and then this kilted oaf comes blundering alang and fooshes up the whole dom business for me! It's-it's just too sod!" He buried his face in his hands.
"Aye, but look ye here!" rumbled Cousin Douglas, in sudden panic. "What am I going to tell Auld Stickychin? I phoned him I was fetching doon a baby ape, and noo he's in a frichtful dither to see it."
"Right, me bucko, and see it 'e will!" Sergeant Pyle promised him confidently. "Now that I'm in on this thing, we can myke it the coziest sure-thing propersition since the time at Ascot I fed Golden Chieftain the bushel of celluloid oats!"
"Urn? What d'ye mean, noo that ye're in on it?" demanded Cousin Douglas truculently. "Even as it was, I was to get only five shillings in the poond, and if--"
"Shut up, Dooglas! Mind yere monners and let the gentlemen talk!" said Mr. Glencannon sharply, . . . "Aye, Sergeant Pyle, I readily concede that having a veterinary specialist o' yere talents associated with us gives the project a new and much more favorable ospect. As a basis for discussion, what do ye say we split the proceeds fifty-fifty and mak' suitable arrangements with Cousin Dooglas at a subsequent date? Is that sotisfactorra?"
"Wot could be fairer? Let's drink to it! Cheers, dears! " Sergeant Pyle drank and then cleared his throat professionally. "Now, first, as to regarding this 'ere monkey, 'ere. As I said before, Old Stickychin probably couldn't tell 'im from a baby ape, but yet agyne, 'e might. . . . Come 'ere. Jocko, lemme look yer over. H'm! Welp, 'is color is a bit too gray, but I can fix that some other time with a pot of strong tea; just fer tonight, it don't matter. Nope, nope; it's this 'ere long tyle that's our real problem."
"Weel, just as a suggestion, cudn't ye explain to the worthy choplain that apes, lik' todpoles, are born with tails whuch drap off when they attain puberty?"
" I could explyne it, yus, but would 'e believe it? Also, Mr. Glencannon, yer mustn't forget that a lot of the orfficers arahnd "ere 'ave served in India, Africa and orl o' them monkey countries, and they know wot's wot."
"Um-er-but look," said Cousin Douglas. "As lang as everybody but me is splitting up the profits o' this thing, why dinna ye sumply declare Auld Stickychin in on the deal and offer him his cut?"
Mr. Glencannon looked up at him with something approaching admiration. "Indeed"-he nodded thoughtfully- "there's almost a modicum o' sense in yere suggestion, Dooglas. Unfoortunately, however, the choplain micht misconstrue the offer as a bribe and snitch to the higher authorities. Some clergymen are not entirely honest, lad."
"Yus, yus, I fancy the only way we can get arahnd this 'ere monkey's tyle is to cut it off," said Sergeant Pyle, pinching the root of it exploringly. " It's only a minor operytion, of course, and I can perform it in a jiffy right 'ere and now."
"B-but how aboot the stump?" protested Cousin Douglas, his face deathly pale. "Auld Stickychin expects to see the baby ape this vurra evening, but surely we canna show him the puir little beastie with his stump all sore! "
"No, by crikey, we can't! I'd forgot abaht the stump," Sergeant Pyle agreed. " M'm! I say, though! 'Ow would it be if we simply let Jocko sit on Duggie's shoulder and shoved 'is tyle down out of sight inside the neck of his tunic?"
"Eek! Eeky! It wud tickle!" The giant squirmed and shuddered. "No, I canna stond the thocht o' it! A better idea wud be to put diapers on him and hide his tail underneath. After all, he's supposed to be a newborn baby, isn't he?"
"Dooglas, dinna be vulgar!" Mr. Glencannon admonished him. "Kindly remember ye're in the presence o' gentlemen and that the digniturra we're shortly going to visit is a clerk in holy orders."
"Yus, and "e's a ruddy major, which is worse!" said Sergeant Pyle grimly. "Think 'ow it would look fer a couple of noncoms to barge into a major's quarters with a monkey dressed in diapers! Fer 'eavens' sykes, Duggie, use yer 'ead!"
Cousin Douglas grunted sullenly. "Oh, vurra weel, if that's the way ye feel aboot it, I won't say another wurrd! I won't even suggest what I was aboot to suggest aboot togging him oot in a little pair o' breeks."
"Breeks? Why, o' course!" cried Mr. Glencannon. "Breeches-troosies- ponts-they're the vurra thing! Losh, what a hoppy inspiration! Oh, I knew I'd hit upon something, if I thocht aboot it lang enough! "
"And sure enough, gorblime, so yer 'ave!" said Sergeant Pyle admiringly. "Call in the old 'ag, Mr. Glencannon, and start 'er sewing a pair at once. Tell 'er to myke 'em good and droopy in the seat, like them silly plus fours the Algerian camel jockeys wear. Better tell 'er to fetch another bottle, too, while yer abaht it."
Cousin Douglas consulted the Messerschmitt dash clock that served him as a wrist watch. "Um! Tell her to fetch two bottles," he mumbled. "Joey and I have got to be at Auld Stickychin's in a little less than an hour."
"Oh, dinna worrit. I'll see that ye get there on time," Mr. Glencannon assured him. "I have implicit confidence in yere honesty, gentlemen, and I intend to prove it by coming richt alang with ye."

Beyond the Rock, the moon rose dripping from the sea. Britannia's lion, which had basked so grandly in the noonday sun, was now an even grander silhouette as it crouched alert to the unseen menaces that lurk and prowl in nights of war. Its shadow, cast upon the town, made the narrow streets perhaps the blackest on all the blacked-out continent of Europe.
It was partly due to this almost palpable darkness that our trio of conspirators were having difficulty in reaching the chaplain's house.
"I canna see my hond before my face," complained Cousin Douglas, who was groping his way on all fours." I literally canna tell front from back nor up from doon."
"Weel, at least ye can pull doon the back o' yere kilt, ye shameless booby!" Mr. Glencannon rebuked him sharply. "What kind o' an exomple are ye setting for this little monkey here? . . . No, here. I thocht he was on my other shoulder."
"Lawks, poor Jocko!" chuckled Sergeant Pyle. "Look, 'e can't even balance 'imself, with 'is tyle inside 'is nice red breeches! If I didn't know I didn't know 'e didn't drink, I'd say 'e'd been drinking. Anyway, get ready, because 'ere we are." He led the way along a brick-paved walk between flower beds, raised the polished brass door knocker and banged it once. "Now, brace up military, Duggie; get yer bally backbone into it," he whispered. "Hup! " The pair came to attention and stood rigid as ramrods.
The door swung open and a little pink cheeked old gentleman stood blinking and beaming out at them. Under his uniform tunic he wore a clerical vest and collar, but even had he been dressed in spangled tights, there would have been no mistaking him for anything but an English clergyman.
"Ah! Well, well! Come in, men, come in!" he invited, an excited throb in his voice. "So it's happened at last, eh. Sergeant Glencannon? Eh, Sergeant Pyle? Er-where is --- I mean to say -- Ah, yes, yes, to be sure; this other gentleman has it! Well, well! My, my, my! What a little beauty, and all dressed up in red silk breeches! Bring it in, please. Yes, come in, all of you. The commanding officer and his staff are waiting."
"Um!" said Cousin Douglas dismally. He and Sergeant Pyle marched behind Major Chenwith and Mr. Glencannon into a somber oak-paneled study. The room was lit only by candelabra and filled with old, dark furniture and red-tabbed officers.
"A-hem!"  The chaplain tapped a glass on the table. "General Ennersleigh and gentlemen! It is a privilege-indeed, I may say, er, a most distinguished honor-to introduce to you a new and welcome arrival upon the Rock." He paused, smiled and then raised his glass. "Sir and gentlemen, let us drink the health of this diminutive living symbol of Britain's secure and enduring tenancy of the Fortress and Crown Colony of Gibraltar!"
"Hear! Hear!" said a dozen voices.
Someone switched on the phonograph. The record was Land of Hope and Glory. At the first solemn note, the monkey leaped down from Mr. Glencannon's shoulder and turned three somersaults on the rug; then it snatched an ash tray from the table and pirouetted around the room, taking up a collection.
"Hem-aw!" Lt. Gen. Sir Clive Ennersleigh dropped the monocle from his right eye and put on a pair of hornrimmed spectacles. The monkey clambered up his leg, hung from his breast pocket while it inspected his decorations, and then mounted to his shoulder. "Er-ka-humph!" said General Ennersleigh.
There was a sudden gasp-an expression of sheer, cold horror that was echoed and repeated throughout the shadowy room. For there, slowly crawling and writhing about on General Ennersleigh's chest was-a snake!
"Sir!" said a voice, tense and sibilant. "Sir! As you value your life, don't stir a muscle!"
"No, don't move-anybody!" said another. "It's-it's a cobra, sir. It's climbing up you, just below the ape's right foot."
General Ennersleigh's port-wine complexion faded to one of gray. He was a brave man, but he had served in India and knew his snakes. He stood immovable, the awful, ominous, aching silence broken only by his stertorous breathing.
"Now, quiet, everybody. Here's what we've got to do," whispered his aide. "That chap nearest the door-yes, you! " he nodded at Mr. Glencannon. "You just ease down the hall to the kitchen and fetch a saucer of milk. On your way back, pick up a walking stick from the hall stand. Spill the milk on the floor over there in the corner, and when the snake comes down to get it, whack him! "
"Aye," murmured Mr. Glencannon. With admirable presence of mind, he tiptoed out into the hall.
Just as he crossed the threshold, the monkey threw its arms around the general's neck. "Skeek!" it said in a high falsetto, biting him in the nose. It sprang to the table, out to the hall and then through the front door into the night.
"Allez-oop, Jocko! Hold on tight!" cried Mr. Glencannon, catching it on his shoulder and dashing headlong across the shadowy flower beds. "From here to the water front, ye're going to see some speed! But losh, puir little laddie! How vurra uncomfortable ye must be, with yere tail hanging oot o' yere troosie leg and the end o' it all wrapped aroond the general's wallet and his gold cigarette case! "
"Skeek!" said the monkey as it bit off a fragment of Mr. Glencannon's left ear.

The End

Published in the October 21, 1944 issue of The Saturday Evening Post.  Never reprinted to my knowledge.