Bob looked very sober, and said nothing; and Fitz continued:
“So you see we were both wrong; we forgot that the sun is south at noon—that’s all. Isn’t it funny?” and again the goblin laughed.
“I don’t think it very funny,” the boy replied, pouting his lips, and looking very glum.
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because here we are in the desert—away south of where we ought to be; and the selector won’t work, and we can’t go back—can’t go in any direction but south. If we keep on, we’ll just come to the south pole—that’s all.”
“Say!” the goblin cried. “I never thought of that, Bob. That’s so; and we’re in a fix, sure.” Then, after wrinkling his forehead and blinking thoughtfully for a few moments: “Well, there’s just one thing to do: we’ve got to fix the selector—got to find out whatails it and set it right. We’ll travel on till we come to an oasis; and there we’ll descend to the ground, and I’ll tinker the machine.”
“Why can’t you do it here and now?” Bob suggested.
“I’m afraid I might get us into worse trouble, Bob; might shake the thing up in some way that would cause it to run away with us. It’s tricky sometimes. No, I’ll wait till we come to an oasis; then I’ll work at it on the ground.”
“All right. And I’ll work my teeth upon some ripe dates and any other fruit I can find.”
“That reminds me, Bob,”—setting the balloon in motion,—“that we haven’t had any dinner; and it’s getting late in the afternoon. Why didn’t you mention that you were getting hungry?”
“Oh! I’m notveryhungry; you know I had a big meal that I got from the old woman’s table. But you haven’t eaten anything since morning, have you, Fitz?”
“No, but I’ll eat now as we go along; and you can join me.”
“Oh,canI?” contemptuously.
“Certainly.”
“You’re very kind.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not hungry enough to take pills.”
“Bob, I tell you they’renotpills; they’re food tablets.”
“They’re pills all the same, Fitz; and I won’t take ’em when Ican get anything else. And I think I’ll find some fruit when we reach an oasis.”
The goblin said no more; but silently opened the hand-satchel, and took out and swallowed a number of the tiny tablets and pellets, smacking his lips in a manner that made his companion turn up his nose in disgust.
The sun was slowly sinking in the west. Bob had the binocular to his eyes and was sweeping the southern horizon. Suddenly he cried:
“Look! Look, Fitz! We’re coming to a great city!”
The goblin smiled pityingly, wagging his head and rolling his eyes.
“Don’t you see it?” the boy asked eagerly.
The goblin nodded, still smiling. Bob leveled his glass upon the distant city and continued to observe it. It was a most beautiful sight, that city. It stood upon the bank of a blue lake; and its white walls, its domes and spires, glistened in the rays of the declining sun. But gradually it began to fade away; and little by little it disappeared from view.
“Why—why,” the boy cried, “what’s become of it, Fitz? I can’t see it any more. What’s become of it?”
“Don’t you know?” the goblin snickered.
“No.”
“You didn’t see any city, Bob.”
“I know Idid! Think I can’tsee?”
“Yes, you can see; but you didn’t see any city.”
“What did I see, then?”
“A mirage.”
“Oh!”
“You know what I mean?”
“Yes. Was that all it was?”
“That was all.”
“Well, it was beautiful, anyway. And there’s another one—a lot of grass and green trees this time.”
“That’s an oasis.”
“Maybe it’s just another mirage.”
“No, it’s an oasis. See! It’s getting closer and clearer all the time. There’s where we’ll stop.”
The swift speed of their air-vessel soon brought them to the green oasis. There they descended to the earth, pumped the tank full of air, and firmly secured the balloon to a tree. Then Fitz set about to repair the selector, and Bob began to search for fruit. The boy was successful in his quest and soon returned to his comrade, his cap full of luscious dates. The goblin was sitting upon the ground, his back against the side of the basket, apparently glum and half asleep.
“Have some, Fitz,” the boy mumbled, his mouth full of fruit, offering a share to his companion. Fitz drowsily shook his head.
“Did you get the selector fixed?” Bob inquired.
The goblin nodded, batting his eyes.
“I—IguessI’ve got it fixed,” he said.
“What was the matter with it?”
“I don’t know, Bob. I never had a selector act like this one does; I’m afraid it’s permanently magnetized.”
“Why, what would put it in that condition, Fitz?”
“Oh! I don’t know, I guess.”
“Yes, you do. Out with it.”
“I don’t want to scare you, Bob, but—”
“Scare me? Pooh! Out with it.”
“Well, down here in Africa somewhere—I don’t know just where—there’s a magnetic mountain; and we goblins have had trouble with it. Whenever we get within the zone of its power with our balloons, it magnetizes our selectors so they won’t work right; and if we get tooclose, it draws us to it—and we have great trouble in getting away. Some of my countrymen have had to abandon their balloons and walk miles and miles, and then send a wireless message home for help.”
“Is thatso?”—mouth agape.
“Yes, indeed.”
“And you think that’s what ails our selector?”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Well, what’re we going to do about it?”
“There’s very little wecando—if that’s what’s the matter with our machine. It seems to be all right now; but you must remember we’re on the ground, with other mountains between us and the magnetic peak—breaking its power, as it were. Probably when we’re high in the air again, we’ll encounter the old difficulty.”
“Then we’d better sail as close to the earth as we can, Fitz, till we’re beyond the influence of that strange mountain.”
“That’s a good idea, Bob; I’d already thought of it. And, as the sun’s almost down and we’ll need to see our way when travelling close to the ground, I think we’d better spend the night here, don’t you?”
“Yes. But—but say, Fitz!”
“What?”
“If you need to send a wireless phone message to Goblinland, how do you do it?”
Fitz Mee silently drew from his pocket a small shiny metallic box, and opened it. It contained a tiny telephone instrument, perfect in every detail—speaking-tube, receiver and all.
“My!” the boy exclaimed in admiration and wonder. “Isn’t it pretty and isn’t it little! But how do you use it, Fitz?”
“Just like you use any telephone,” the goblin replied complacently.
“Do you take down that teenty-weenty little receiver and call up central in Goblinland?”
“Yes.”
“And central gives you whatever number you want?”
The goblin nodded.
“Say!” the boy cried excitedly. “Call up some one right now, Fitz.”
The goblin shook his head.
“Yes,” Bob insisted; “I want to see how it works.”
“I don’t dare to.”
“Don’tdareto?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“There’s a law against using the instrument, except for messages of grave importance.”
“Oh!”
“Uh-huh.”
Fitz Mee closed the little box and returned it to his pocket; Bob resumed the munching of his ripe fruit.
“Won’t you have some, Fitz?” he suggested, temptingly displaying it to the goblin’s gaze.
“Uk-uh!” Fitz grunted.
“Better try some; it’s fine.”
“It would make me sick.”
“Pshaw!”—incredulously, contemptuously.
“I’m afraid it would; I’m afraid it will makeyousick.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Huh! Fruit never makesmesick; I can eat bushels of it.”
“You mean youcould.”
“What?”
“You could—when you were a boy.”
“Well?”
“Well, you’re part goblin now.”
“Well, I’mnot!”
“You’ll see, Bob.”
“Well, Iwillsee; I’ll eat this fruit and prove to you, Fitzy, that I’m just a healthy boy.”
“All right,” the goblin grinned.
Bob finished his fruit—to the last date. Then he went to the great spring near at hand, and lay down and drank his fill. He set out to return to his comrade; but suddenly he became so ill that he dropped upon the ground and rolled and writhed and groaned. Fitz came flying to him.
“Here, Bob,” he said quietly, “take this,” offering the wriggling boy a tablet.
“Oh! pills! pills! pills!” Bob moaned. But he took the tablet and downed it; and soon he was relieved of the fruit—and his pain. Sheepishly he got on his feet and sauntered back to the balloon, crestfallen and subdued. All Fitz Mee said to him was:
“I guess you’ll know enough to stick to goblin diet after this.”
And Bob made no reply.
The sun had gone down; dusky shadows were gathering from far and near and throwing themselves prone upon the desert sands. The air, that all the afternoon had been so hot, was growing chill.
“I’m sleepy,” Bob remarked, dropping upon the warm earth and stretching full length.
“Well, you mustn’t go to sleep there,” Fitz replied.
“Why?” the boy queried.
“You’ll see why when it grows a little darker. Wild beasts will be prowling around here, after food and water.”
“They will?” raising himself upon his elbow and glancing apprehensively around.
“Yes, indeed,” the goblin answered.
“Lions?”
“Yes.”
“Leopards?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And hyenas and jackals?”
The goblin nodded.
“Well, where are we going to sleep, then?”
“We’ll let the balloon rise to the level of the tops of these palm trees, tie it there, and sleep in the car.”
“That’ll do. But I’ll bet we don’t get much sleep; the wild animals will raise such a rumpus, roaring and howling and fighting. Won’t they?”
“It’s likely.”
“Dear—dear! I wish I was back home.”
“No, you don’t, Bob.”
“I do, too. You promised to take me to Goblinland where everything was to be lovely; and you’ve got me away down here in the Sahara desert where there’s nothing but sand and wild beasts. And you’ve got me in such a fix I can’t eat a little fruit, even, without getting sick; and now I’m to have no sleep. Bah!”
“That’s all that ails you, Bob.”
“What?”
“You’re sleepy—and cross.”
“I’m not cross.”
“Well—well, we won’t argue the matter.”
“I’ll argue if I want to, old Epilepsy.”
“Say, Bob,”—pleasantly.
No reply.
“Bob.”
“Huh!”—ungraciously.
“I think I know what we can do to send the wild animals about their business if they bother us.”
“What?”—with a show of interest.
“That is,” with a reflective shake of the head, “if we didn’t throw overboard, when we were about to sink in the Atlantic, the stuff we need.”
“What is it, Fitz?”
“Magnetic powder.”
“There’s a bottle of it in the locker; I saw it there this morning. But what on earth are you going to do with it?”
“I’ll tell you. I’m going to sprinkle some of it in the spring; and it’ll magnetize the water. Then any animal that comes for a drink will get a shock that will stir up its ideas—and send it flying. Won’t that be great?”
“Great?” Bob cried, capering about in glee. “Yes, indeed, Fitz!And won’t it be funny to hear ’em and see ’em? I’m not a bit sleepy now. Let’s fix the spring right now.”
Soon they had magnetized the spring, and had snuggled down in the car of their balloon, to spend the night. By that time it was quite dark; so they partook of a few food-tablets and drink-pellets, and then composed themselves to rest—out of reach of any beast that might come prowling around. Bob dropped into a doze. A roar like distant, muttering thunder roused him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes; then he nudged his sleeping companion.
“Huh!” ejaculated Fitz, waking with a start.
“I heard something roaring—sounded like thunder,” the boy explained.
“Where?”
“I don’t know; I wasn’t wide enough awake to tell. There—there it goes again.”
“That’s a lion out on the sands,” chuckled the goblin; “he’s coming for a drink. Now the fun’ll begin, Bob.”
“And listen! What are those other sounds, Fitz?”
“Jackals barking and hyenas howling. They’re all coming at once. There’ll be a circus when they gather at the spring.”
The two aëronauts giggled and shrugged their shoulders, in nervous but delicious expectancy. The moon made the night almost as light as day; but soon great dark shapes and shadows were to beseen approaching the oasis, from various directions. The lion roared defiantly, the jackals barked snappishly and the hyenas howled dolefully.
“I see the lion,” Bob whispered excitedly. “There! He’s just coming in among the trees. But what’s that other animal creeping along away out there in the bright moonlight?”
“A leopard,” Fitz replied.
“And that pack of little fellows are jackals?”
“Yes.”
“And those ugly scrawny ones are hyenas?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my!” the boy exclaimed gleefully. “Talk about a circus, Fitz;Icall it a menagerie. This is a free show; and you and I have box seats.” Then thoughtfully, and with a little shiver, “And I’m mighty glad we have—and right above the ring. I—”
He was interrupted by a roar that seemed to shake the slender fronds of the palm trees and rock the balloon. The lion was directly beneath them, smelling over the ground where they had been. The two small comrades cuddled close together upon the locker, held each other’s hands, and strained their eyes and ears to see and hear all that was going on. Presently the leopard, too, was among the trees and, like the lion, was nosing from one spot to another; andthe jackals and hyenas had ranged themselves along the border of the little oasis, and were indulging in a discordant serenade.
“Ugh!” the boy grunted in disgust. “Those cowardly things out there make me lonesome with their mournful sounds.”
“Me, too,” the goblin admitted, nodding. Then he whispered sharply: “There—there, Bob. The lion’s going to the spring. See him in that patch of moonlight?”
“Yes.”
“And now he’s right at the edge of the water. See him—see him?”
“Uh—huh. And there’s the leopard coming up on the other side.”
The lion advanced majestically to the edge of the pool. He looked askance at his slender cousin, the leopard; and then he touched his nose to the clear water. Instantly he sprang backward, bristling, sneezing and shaking his head, in surprise and anger. The leopard looked on in wonder at her cousin’s strange behavior; and the lion glared fiercely at her. The two aëronauts hugged each other and laughed softly.
Again the lion essayed to slake his burning thirst at the glassy pool; and again he retreated in rage and confusion. Attributing his trouble to the leopard, evidently, he made a vicious slap at her with his great paw. She sprang aside, spitting and snarling. The lion pursued her; and, to escape, she sprang upon the slender trunk of the palm tree to whose top the balloon was tied, and began a nimble and quick ascent.
“Oo—h!” Bob gasped.
“Murder!” croaked Fitz Mee.
Then, instantly, he jumped from the locker; and opened and shut the valve of the air-tank, three or four times in quick succession.
“Pst! pst! pst!” hissed the escaping air, and the leopard, more alarmed at the unknown danger above than at the known danger below, gave a yowl of fright and leaped to the ground and loped out of sight.
Bob heaved a sigh of relief. “Fitz,” he whispered, “playing with wild beasts is like playing with fire; a fellow’s likely to burn his fingers.”
The goblin nodded; then he jerked out:
“But look at the lion! Bob, look at the lion!”
The noble animal was not content to go without a drink; and once more he was drawing near the spring, cautiously, slowly. A third time his nose and tongue touched the water; and a third time hesprang back, startled and enraged. And this time he rashly spatted the surface of the pool with his paw, and let out a hoarse roar of futile rage, as the treacherous liquid sent a stream of electricity tingling through his anatomy.
The two aëronauts were hunkered upon the locker, leaning far over the rim of the basket and laughing heartily but softly. On a sudden the goblin’s hands slipped and he fell headlong from the car—turning completely over in mid air and lighting plump astride the lion’s back!
Fitz Mee let out a frantic yell as he descended; Bob echoed it. “I’m a goner!” squeaked the goblin as he alighted on the lion’s back.
“Goner!” screamed the boy, in unison.
The lion, no doubt coupling the sudden arrival of the little green sprite with the unusual condition of the spring he had always known, went mad with fright. He stuck his tail between his hind legs, gave a snort, followed by a prolonged and doleful whine, and scampered away among the trees and across the sands of the desert, the goblin clinging to his mane.
“Oh, dear—dear!” moaned the boy. “What am I to do? WhatcanI do? Poor old Fitz Mee! Poor old Convulsions! The lion’ll shake him off out there—and—and eat him up! And I can’t help him! I don’t dare to go to his aid; the other beasts would eatme! Was ever a boy in such a pickle! Oh, I wish I was back home! I do—I do! I was a fool to come on such a wild adventurous trip, anyhow! Poor old Fitz Mee! Poor old Epilepsy! Gone! Lost! And here I am down here in the desert—with miles of trackless sandsall around me; and with no means of getting away—except an old balky balloon! Oh, dear—dear!”
He wrung his hands and wept. At last, however, he muttered sleepily: “Poor unlucky old Fitz! He’s always getting into trouble and danger; he’s always tumbling out of the balloon. I’ve rescued him two or three times; but I can’t go on rescuing him every few hours. He’ll have to look out for himself this time; I can’t do anything for him. And,”—yawning,—“I’m so—so sleepy. I’ve just got to—sleep; that’s all—all—there is—”
He sank upon the bottom of the car and lost all sense of his surroundings.
“Bob! Oh, Bob!” Someone was calling him—someone in the far distance, he thought.
“Huh!” ever so drowsily.
“Bob! Bob Taylor! Wake up!”
“Hel—hello!” the boy grunted.
“Here! Wake up, you lazy pest! Do you hear me? Ah-hah! Do youfeelme?”
“Ouch!”—petulantly—“Quit! Quit, I say!”
Someone was twitching and pinching the lad’s ear. He stirred, opened his eyes, flounced over upon his stomach and raised his head. There stood the Little Green Goblin of Goblinville, grinning down at him.
“Fitz!” the boy cried, springing to his feet and holding out his hand.
“Fitz Mee!”
The goblin continued to grin and bat his pop eyes—saucily, perversely. Daylight was just breaking.
“When—when did you get back?” Bob inquired, embarrassed by his comrade’s manner.
“Just got back, my friend,” Fitz croaked hoarsely; “and a time I’ve had getting you awake. I called and called from the ground, but you slept on. So I had to climb the tree; and then yell at you—and yell again and again, and shake you, and pinch you. You must have been greatly worried over my disappearance and danger! Oh, yes! Sure! You couldn’t sleep at all, you were so worried!”
“Fitz, Iwasworried,” the boy replied sheepishly.
“Of course!” the goblin sneered. “That’s what Isaid—you were so worried you couldn’tsleep!”
“You may say what you please,” Bob insisted, “but I was worried—worried like everything. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“And no doubt you searched for me, seeking to rescue me from my perilous position!” Fitz continued sarcastically. “Why, to be sure you did! Oh, my!—yes, indeed!”
“No, I didn’t hunt for you,” Bob returned thickly, a hint of tears in his voice.
“You didn’t?” snappishly.
“No.”
“Well,whydidn’t you—huh?”
“How could I, Fitz, with wild beasts all around me?”
“Well,”—crustily,—“maybe there wasn’t wild beasts all around me! Hey, Bob Taylor!”
“You’re unreasonable, Fitz!” angry now. “Of course, you were in danger. But what would have been the use of my rushing into danger when I couldn’t help you a bit by doing it? I couldn’t whip all those wild animals and snatch you away from them. Now, could I?”
“No, I suppose you couldn’t,”—sullenly and rather reluctantly admitting the truth. “But it did make memad, Bob, to find you sleeping so comfortably and soundly after the terrible time I’ve had.”
“Did you have a bad time, Fitz?”
“Did I? Well, I ratherguessI did!”
“How far did the lion carry you?”
“About a hundred miles.”
“Oh, not that far!”
“How do you know, smarty?Youweren’t there!”
“Well—well! Maybe he did. But why didn’t you stop him before he went so far?”
“Stop him! Bob Taylor, I just wish you’d have to take a ride on a lion once! Stop him! Ididtry to. I yelled and yelled at him to stop; but he just went the faster.”
“Well, why didn’t you let loose and roll off, then?”
“Just because Icouldn’t—that’s why.”
“Youcouldn’t?”
“No, Icouldn’t!” irritably.
“Why?”
“Why? Bob, you’re foolish! Just because he went so fast I was afraid to let loose—afraid the fall might hurt me.”
Bob laughed.
“Laugh!” muttered Fitz, gritting his teeth. “You think you’re smart!”
“But how did you get off? How did you get away from the lion?” the boy suggested.
“He stumbled and fell—and threw me off.”
“Oh!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, didn’t he try to eat you up, then?”
“Eat me up? No, he was dead.”
“Dead?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Why, what killed him?”
“I don’t know; I didn’t stop to find out.”
“What do youthinkkilled him?”
“I think he just ran himself to death.”
“Oh, Fitz!”
“Or he was scared to death.”
“Take care!”
“Or died from heart disease.”
“Fitz Mee, you’re yarning to me; you’ve been yarning to me about your adventure all the way through.”
“Look here!” Fitz cried, grinning impishly. “Wasn’t I on the lion’s back the last you saw of me?”
“Yes.”
“And wasn’t he carrying me off across the sands?”
“Yes.”
“Well, haven’t I come back alive—without a hurt or scratch?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Well, then, you’ve no good reason to doubt my story. And, Bob, I can tell you something else—something thatwillsurprise you and test your credulity.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“How did I get back here—from a hundred miles away, do you suppose?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“I fell in with a caravan of Arabs, and they brought me.”
“What!”
“Yes.”
“Where are the Arabs now?”
“Right out there. See ’em?”
Bob looked in the direction indicated. There, sure enough, was a number of Arabs with horses and camels rapidly approaching the oasis.
The boy turned to his companion and murmured reproachfully: “Fitz, you’re a big story-teller—that’s whatyouare. Just now you happened to see those Arabs, and you put them into your story. You’ve been spinning a big yarn to me. I’ll bet the lion didn’t carry you but a short distance out on the sands; then you came to your senses, got over your surprise, and rolled off and made your way back. I believe you’ve been here ever since shortly after I went to sleep. Now, haven’t you?”
Fitz Mee grinned broadly; but would make no reply to the charge. Instead, he said:
“Bob, we’d better be getting away from here. Those Arabs have been travelling all night, taking advantage of the cool air; and nowthey’ll spend the hot hours of the day under the trees of this oasis near this spring.”
“My!” Bob ejaculated sharply.
“What?” his companion asked, in keen concern.
“I was just thinking about the spring—about its being charged with electricity.”
“Whew!” whistled the goblin. “I hadn’t thought of that. We’d better get away from here before those Arabs discover what we’ve done to the spring, Bob. They’ll be mad when they find out; and they might shoot us with the long guns they carry. Sh! There comes one with a camel now.”
The two aëronauts kept perfectly quiet. The Arab swiftly approached the spring, leading his camel and hugging an empty waterskin to his breast. The beast of burden tried to get at the tempting water, and its owner tried to keep it back, scolding and jerking at the halter-rope. But the camel succeededin touching the water with its nose; and immediately it surged backward, coughing and shivering. The Arab, in an effort to control the frightened animal, chanced to set his foot in the edge of the pool. Then he gave a startled yell and danced about on one leg, grimacing and grunting. The whole thing was so funny that Bob could not restrain a snort of laughter. The Arab cast his gaze aloft. Then he yelled louder than before, dropped the halter-rope, and sped away to tell his companions of his wonderful experience and discovery.
“You’ve played the mischief, Bob!” Fitz Mee grumbled, but grinning in spite of himself. “Untie that rope; let’s get out of here.”
The boy was prompt to obey. Fitz released the air; and the balloon began to rise slowly, steadily, floating out over the shining sands. At that moment, however, the whole band of Arabs put in an appearance at the edge of the oasis; and, with shouts and imprecations, raised their guns and fired at the rising air-ship. The bullets whistled around the two adventurers, causing them to drop precipitately to the bottom of the car.
“You hurt, Bob?” Fitz inquired.
“No. You?”
“No.”
“Bully!”
“That’s whatIsay!”
“But, Fitz, that was a close shave.”
“Too close for comfort.”
“Look here! One bullet went through the basket.”
“Yes and look there! Another one went through the balloon-bag.”
“They didn’t do any harm, though—eh?”
“No.”
“I’m glad they didn’t. And now I want to get out of this country; I’m tired of it.”
“So am I. And I’ll set the needle north-east, for Goblinville; and away we’ll go. Hurrah!”
“Hurrah!” the boy echoed.
“Well—well!” the goblin mumbled irritably, fumbling at the selector.
“What’s the matternow, Fitz?” Bob cried impatiently, stooping to ascertain the cause of his companion’s exclamatory remark.
“The selector’s out of fix again, Bob. The needle won’t point any way but south.”
“And—and, Fitz!”
“Huh!” springing erect.
“See how fast we’re going directly south.”
“Yes,” nodding gravely, “and there’s hardly any power at all turned on.”
“Shut it all off, Fitz.”
“I will,” croaked the goblin. And he did so. Still the balloon slowly drifted southward.
“What are we to do, Fitz?”
“Indeed I don’t know,” the little green fellow answered dejectedly.
“We’re going faster again.”
“I see.”
“Well, we’ve got to do some—” The boy broke off abruptly; then cried in great excitement: “Look! Look, Fitz!”
“What?” screeched Fitz Mee, nervously dancing up and down. “What? Where?”
“A mountain!” yelled Bob. “See it? Away to the south! A big shiny mountain!”
“Yes!” moaned the goblin. “And that’s what’s drawing us!” He cast a despairing look behind them.
“Why—why,” he jerked out, “Bob, the Arabs are following us!”
“Oh, dear—dear!” muttered the boy. “Now wearelost!”
“We don’t dare to stop,” Fitz whimpered; “the Arabs’ll get us!”
“And we don’t dare to go ahead,” Bob whined; “we’ll fly against the side of that mountain and burst ourselves all to pieces!”
“Oh, dear!” groaned the goblin.
“Oh, dear!” moaned the boy.
“Bob!”
“What, Fitz?”
“Which would you rather—be eaten up by the Arabs, or bursted up by the mountain?”
“Why,neither, you silly old thing!” pettishly.
“We’ve got to choose, Bob.”
“Well, wehaven’t!”
“What else can we do, Bob?”
“I know!” brightly. “An idea has just come to me, Fitz.”
“Oh! what is it, Bob?” joyfully.
“You’ll see—in time. Stop the balloon.”
“Bob, Ican’tstop it!”
“That’s so. Well, pump up the tank and send the balloon to the ground.”
“It’ll spill us out, Bob, at the rate we’re going.”
“Let it spill!”—recklessly.
“All right! Here goes!”
Fitz worked industriously at the pump; and the air-ship began to drop swiftly. Soon it was within a few feet of the ground, flying along rapidly.
“Hold on to the car when it strikes,” Bob cautioned his companion, “or the balloon, relieved of our weight, will fly up—and away from us.”
“I understand,” Fitz replied.
Bump! The car struck the earth, throwing its occupants sprawling; but they hung on. Bump! Bump! Then it dragged along the sand for some distance; and at last came to a stop.
“Pump the air-tank up good and tight, Fitz,” Bob commanded; “we don’t want to lose our air-ship and be left out here in the desert.”
“But the Arabs’ll get us, anyhow,” Fitz complained disconsolately. “There they come—only a few miles away!”
“Let ’em come!” the boy cried gleefully. “They’ll be sorry! Let me have that hand-satchel.”
“But what’re you going todo, Bob?”
“Just wait andsee!” was the tantalizing answer.
The goblin silently handed the small black satchel to his comrade. The boy opened it and took out two of the tiny bottles, remarking as he did so:
“I—I rather hate to do it; but I’ve got to—we’ve got to save ourselves.”
“But what do you mean to do, Bob?” his companion insisted. “Tell me—before the Arabs get here.”
The boy silently shook a few tablets into his palm from each of the two bottles. Then he queried:
“Fitz, does the—the effect of these tablets—these gob-tabs—last forever? Tell me the truth.”
“The effect lasts as long as the person eats goblin diet, Bob. That’s the reason I’ve insisted on your eating nothing else. See?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, now what’re you going to do?”
“Going to give those Arabs some gob-tabs.”
“How are you going to get them to take the gobs?” asked the little green sprite, grinning broadly.
“You just watch me and see,” Bob replied complacently; “and do whatever I tell you to do.”