It was a most fortunate move, for next second the dignified crowd of Kukuanas uttered a simultaneous yell of horror, and bolted back some yards.
"What's up ?" said I.
"It's his teeth," whispered Sir Henry excitedly.

"He moved them.

Take them out, Good, take them out!" He obeyed, slipping the set into the sleeve of his flannel shirt.
In another second curiosity had overcome fear, and the men advanced slowly.

Apparently they had now forgotten their amiable intention of killing us.
"How is it, O strangers," asked the old man solemnly, "that this fat man (pointing to Good, who was clad in nothing but boots and a flannel shirt, and had only half finished his shaving), whose body is clothed, and whose legs are bare, who grows hair on one side of his sickly face and not on the other, and who wears one shining and transparent eye--how is it, I ask, that he has teeth which move of themselves, coming away from the jaws and returning of their own will ?" "Open your mouth," I said to Good, who promptly curled up his lips and grinned at the old gentleman like an angry dog, revealing to his astonished gaze two thin red lines of gum as utterly innocent of ivories as a new-born elephant.

The audience gasped.
"Where are his teeth ?" they shouted; "with our eyes we saw them." Turning his head slowly and with a gesture of ineffable contempt, Good swept his hand across his mouth.