“All right. But you’ve got some giant-tabs there, too. What are you going to do with those?”
“You’ll see. Hist! Here come the Arabs. Now, don’t you hesitate to do what I tell you, Fitz.”
“I won’t, Bob.”
The Arabs, some on horses and others on camels, came galloping to the spot, raising a great cloud of sand. They formed in a circle round the two diminutive aëronauts and their balloon; and dismounted and stood silently, sullenly scowling.
At last the sheik of the tribe advanced and said:
“You two are devils. You’ve poisoned the spring where we drink and refreshourselves and our beasts. You must die; we’re going to kill you.”
Bob replied composedly: “Great sheik, we are magicians, not devils. We worked enchantment upon the spring, but did not poison it. As soon as the sun shines a few hours, the waters of the spring will again be pure and sweet—purer and sweeter than ever before. To convince you that we’re magicians, we’re ready to perform before you. See! I will make a giant of my green comrade.”
The boy gave a giant-tab to the goblin and motioned him to swallow it. Unhesitatingly Fitz obeyed; and almost immediately he grew and swelled to gigantic size. With gestures and cries of amazement the Arabs drew back. Several of them touched their foreheads and muttered strange words; others prostrated themselves and hid their faces upon their extended arms. But the fierce old sheik gave no sign of wonder or fear. Instead, he said firmly, boldly:
“Devils can work magic upon devils; but devils cannot work magic upon Allah’s elect. I’ll put you to the test; and if you fail,—as you will!—you die. Give me and my children of your magic medicine.”
At a word from their sheik, the Arabs formed a line. Then the fierce old warrior of the desert said:
“My children, these devils cannot injure you with their magic medicine. If they succeed in making giants of us, we shall then be able to overcome all our enemies; if they fail, we shall be as we are—andthe devils shall die.” Then to Bob: “Give us of your devil drugs.”
The boy stepped forward and dropped a gob-tab into the outstretched palm of each warrior. The sheik gave a signal; and twenty red mouths flew open and twenty gob-tabs disappeared. At the same moment Bob took a giant-tab. And a few minutes later two giants stood triumphantly grinning down upon twenty bearded and turbaned pygmies!
“Now, sheik,” Bob roared briskly and cheerily, “no doubt you’re convinced that we’re what we claim to be—great magicians. But we don’t mean to work you any injury, now that we’re big and you’re small; although you meant to put us to death, just becauseyouwere big andwewere small. You’ll come back to your natural size all right, in a few days. And we’re not going to rob you; just going to borrow two of your camels.”
The sheik had stood silently staring at his diminutive warriors and inspecting his own shrunken limbs. But now he piped shrilly:
“Allah is great! Allah is great! But what use can you have for our camels? You are so huge that they cannot bear you!”
“Say!” Bob muttered in consternation. “Fitz, that’s a fact. What are we to do? I meant to take two of the camels to carry us and our balloon out of reach of the power of the magnetic mountain. What are we to do?”
Two giants stood triumphantly grinning down upon twenty pygmies.
Two giants stood triumphantly grinning down upon twenty pygmies.
“I don’t know,” the goblin-giant grumbled surlily.
“Well, can’t you think of some plan?”
“You’re the one, Roberty-Boberty, that’s making the plans this time.” And Fitz Mee grinned a grin that made his big fat face look simply awful.
“I know,” Bob admitted ruefully. “But won’t you help a fellow out, when he’s doing the best he can?”
“Say, Bob!”
“What?”—eagerly, expectantly.
“I’ll tell you what! We’ll have to take gob-tabs and go back to goblin size. Then the camels can carry us.”
“Yes, but we couldn’t manage the camels—couldn’t get on ’em, even,” the boy-giant objected. “Could we?”
“I’m afraid we couldn’t,” the goblin-giant admitted, shaking his head. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Oh, dear!” groaned Bob.
“Oh, dear!” seconded Fitz.
“Say!” squeaked the old sheik, looking up at the two giants. “What are we Arabs to do? We are so small we cannot mount and manage our beasts.”
“I don’t know,” rumbled Bob.
“AndIdon’t know,” mumbled Fitz.
“Well, you’re a nice pair of magicians—youare!” screeched thesheik, pulling at his long beard. “Don’t you know anything you can do to help us out of our quandary?”
Each giant sadly shook his big head.
“Well,” the old sheik screeched, “I know what you’vegotto do—you’ve got to give our beasts some of your magic medicine, and shrink ’em.”
“Oh!” Bob ejaculated.
“Oh!” Fitz exclaimed.
“That’s a good idea,” the boy-giant remarked.
“A splendid idea,” the goblin-giant agreed.
“And we can give giant-tabs to the two camels we’re going to use,” Bob suggested.
“Of course we can,” Fitz assented.
“Well, here goes!”
The two giants went to work. After repeated trials they succeeded in getting the camels and horses to swallow the magic medicine. All those animals to whom they gave gob-tabs shrunk to pygmy size; and the two camels to whom they administered giant-tabs grew to giant size. Then the old sheik and his bearded warriors, looking very dejected and forlorn, got upon their tiny beasts and rode away over the sands.
Bob and Fitz lashed their balloon upon the back of one of the giant camels, and mounted and set out toward the north. All thatday they traveled and far into the night, the great desert animals covering the ground rapidly. At last they stopped at an oasis; and there rested until morning. Then they tested the selector of the balloon and, to their unbounded delight, found it in perfect working order. They had got beyond the influence of the magnetic mountain.
“Now,” said Bob, “we’ll take some gob-tabs and give some to the camels; then we’ll be all ready to take to the air again.”
They carried out the plan thus expressed. When they were once more ready to embark upon the tenuous tide of the air, Fitz Mee remarked:
“Now, I’ll telephone to Goblinland that we’re coming, that we’ll arrive there to-morrow.” He drew forth his wireless telephone, rang the tiny bell, and waited. Bob stood at his comrade’s side, alertly observant. Presently he saw the goblin give a start and heard him saying:
“Hello! Hello! Is this Goblinland? It is, you say? All right. This is Fitz Mee. Yes, Fitz Mee.Yes, the Little Green Goblin. Uh-huh. Well, give me the mayor’s office. Yes—yes! the mayor’s office.”
There was a momentary pause; and then:
“Hello! Is this the mayor’s office in Goblinland? What? Huh? Is this the mayor’s office in Goblinland, I say? You can’t hear me? Well, I can’t hearyou. I want to know if this is themayor’s office in Goblinland. You say it is? Huh? Oh! All right. Well, is the mayor there? How’s that? Well, I want to speak to him, please.”
Another momentary pause; and then:
“Hello!Hel-lo, Hel-lo! Is this his honor, the mayor of Goblinland? It is? How’s that? Itisn’t? How’s that? What? Huh?” Bob began to snicker. “Oh! All right. Well, mayor, this is Fitz Mee. Fitz Mee, I say. No—no! Fitz Mee.No!NotSwiss cheese!”—Bob laughed outright; and the goblin scowled darkly. “F-i-t-z M-e-e, Fitz Mee. Oh! You understand now, do you? Well, I’ve got the boy. Yes. Why, I’ve been delayed by storms and misadventures. Yes. Yes, bad storms. We’ll get in to-morrow morning, I think. Hey? I—I know; but I hope your honor will pardon—what? Well, mayor, you don’t know what an awful time I’ve had with this boy.” Bob rolled upon the ground and roared. “Well, I’m very sorry. You’llwhat—your honor? Please don’t saythat! Oh!don’tsay that!” The goblin’s face had gone white, Bob observed; and the boy wondered what was the matter. “Yes, to—morrow morning. Good-bye.”
Fitz Mee rang off, returned the instrument to his pocket, and dropped upon the ground, pale and panting.
“What is it, what’s the matter, Fitz?” Bob inquired kindly.
The goblin drew his knees up to his chin and rolled his pop eyes and waggled his big head; but made no answer.
“What is it?” the boy repeated.
Fitz moaned, but made no other reply.
“Tell me,” Bob insisted.
The goblin shook his head.
“I don’t dare to, Bob,” he said.
“Why don’t you?”
“I just don’t—that’s all.”
“Well, let’s be off. I’m anxious to get back home.”
“Back home?” springing nimbly to his feet.
“Yes.”
“Backhome!”
“That’s what I said.”
“But, Bob, you’re not going back home.”
“But I am.”
“I say you’renot!”
“And I say Iam!”
“Bob, youcan’t!”
“Fitz, Ican!”
“Youshan’t!”
“Iwill!”
“You’re a spoiled, stubborn boy, Roberty-Boberty Taylor.”
“And you’re a contrary old goblin, Mr. Epilepsy Spasms Convulsions Fitz Mee. Now!”
“Bob, you ought to be ashamed to call a comrade naughty names.”
“Iam; but you called me names first.”
“I know I did; and I’m sorry. But, Bob, why do you desire to go back home?”
“Because I’m tired of beingawayfrom home; because I’m tired of adventure.”
“But you haven’t seen Goblinland yet.”
“I don’t care; I don’t want to see it, I—I guess.”
“Yes, you do. And you must go with me, Bob.”
“Why must I?”
“Because.”
“Well, because what?”
“I hate to tell you.”
“Yes, tell me.”
“Because my head will come off, if you don’t.”
Bob started.
“Is that what the mayor told you?” he inquired. “Is that what made you turn so pale?”
The goblin nodded gravely; and said: “Yes, he said if I didn’t have you in Goblinland by to-morrow forenoon, he’d have my head cut off.”
“Why, he’s a cruel old tyrant!” the boy cried hotly.
“No, he isn’t,” the goblin protested; “he has to do what he said he’d do. It’s the law, you know; the law that when one agrees to do a certain thing by a certain time, he must do it or suffer death.”
“Well, such a fool law!” Bob muttered testily. “I don’t want to go to a country that has such laws; and I won’t.”
“Bob, remember—if you don’t go with me, I’ll be killed.”
The boy was silent for some moments. Then he said:
“Well, Fitz, I’ll go with you—to save your life; but I wish I hadn’t come with you at all.”
A few minutes later they were again off for Goblinland.
All that day and all that night the two daring adventurers traveled steadily and directly north-eastward, and at the dawn of the next day they were floating high over western China. The air was thin and penetrating and both were shivering with cold.
Fitz Mee, standing upon the locker and watching the sunrise through the binocular, observed:
“We’re almost to our journey’s end, Bob.”
“Almost to Goblinland?” the boy queried.
“Yes; I can see it.”
“Where—where?” Bob cried eagerly, mounting to his comrade’s side.
“See that mountain top a little to the left yonder?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s Goblinland.”
“Oo—h!” Bob muttered. “It must be a pretty cold place to live.” And his teeth chattered sympathetically at the thought.
“No, it isn’t,” the goblin assured him. “You see Goblinland is really the crater of a volcano.”
“The crater of a volcano?” said Bob, in mild consternation.
“Yes,” Fitz laughed. “But you needn’t be alarmed, Bob; it’s an extinct volcano. Still the crust over it is so thin that the ground is always warm and the climate mild. Now we’re getting right over the place. Release the selector and pump up the air-tank; and we’ll soon cast anchor in port.”
As they slowly descended Bob swept his eyes here and there, greedily taking in the scene. Goblinland was indeed the crater of an immense ancient volcano. The great pit was several miles in diameter and several hundred feet in depth, walled in by perpendicular cliffs of shiny, black, volcanic rock. Through the middle of this natural amphitheater ran a clear mountain brook; and on either side of the stream, near the center of the plain, were the rows of tiny stone houses constituting Goblinville. Shining white roadways wound here and there, graceful little bridges spanned the brook, and groves of green trees and beds of blooming flowers were everywhere.
“How beautiful!” Bob exclaimed involuntarily.
“Yes,” the goblin nodded, his eyes upon the village below, “to me, at least; it’s my home.”
“I know now why you goblins always travel in balloons,” the lad remarked; “you can’t get out of your country in any other way.”
Again Fitz Mee nodded absent-mindedly. Then he said: “My people are out to welcome us, Bob. Look down there in the public square.”
The boy did as directed. “What a lot of ’em, Fitz!” he tittered gleefully. “And what bright-colored clothes they wear—red and green and blue and all colors!”
“Yes,” Fitz Mee answered. Then, after a momentary pause: “The mayor will be present to greet us, Bob. He’ll make a speech; and you must be very polite and respectful. See them waving at us—and hear them cheering!”
A few minutes later the balloon had touched the earth and eager hands had grasped the anchor-rope.
“Hello! Hello, Fitz Mee! Welcome home, Fitz Mee!” were the hearty greetings that arose on all sides.
Fitz Mee stepped to the ground, bowing and smiling, and Bob silently followed his example. The balloon was dragged away and the populace closed in upon the new arrivals, elbowing and jostling one another and chuckling and cackling immoderately.
“Shake!” they cried. “Give us a wag of your paw, Fitz Mee! Shake, Bob Taylor!”
There were goblins great and goblins small, goblins short and goblins tall; goblins fat and goblins lean, goblins red and goblins green; goblins young and goblins old, goblins timid, goblins bold; goblins dark and goblins fair—goblins, goblins everywhere!
Bob was much amused at their cries and antics and just a littlefrightened at their exuberant friendliness. Fitz Mee shook hands with all comers, and chuckled and giggled good-naturedly.
“Out of the way!” blustered a hoarse voice. “Out of the way for his honor, the mayor!”
A squad of rotund and husky goblins, in blue police uniforms and armed with maces, came forcing in their way through the packed crowd. Immediately behind them was the mayor, a pursy, wrinkled old fellow wearing a long robe of purple velvet. The officers cleared a space for him, and he advanced and said pompously:
“Welcome, Fitz Mee, known the world over as the Little Green Goblin of Goblinville. I proclaim you the bravest, if not the speediest, messenger and minister Goblinland has ever known. Again, welcome home; and welcome to your friend and comrade, Master Robert Taylor of Yankeeland. I trust that he will find his stayamong us pleasant, and that he will in no way cause us to regret that we have made the experiment of admitting a human being—and a boy at that!—to the sacred precincts of Goblinville. The freedom of the country and the keys of the city shall be his. Once more, a sincere and cordial welcome.”
Then to the officers: “Disperse the populace, and two of you escort the Honorable Fitz Mee and his companion to their dwelling-place, that they may seek the rest they greatly need after so arduous a journey.”
The officers promptly and energetically carried out the orders of their chief.
When Fitz and Bob were alone in the former’s house, the latter remarked:
“Fitz, I believe I’ll like to live in Goblinville.”
“I—I hope you will, Bob,” was the rather disappointing reply.
“Hope I will? Don’t you think I will, Fitz?”
“I don’t know; boys are curious animals.”
“Well, I think I will. You know you said I could do as I pleased here.”
“Yes.”
“Say, Fitz?”
“Well.”
“How does it come that you goblins speak my language?”
“We speak any language—all languages.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why, how do you learn so many?”
“We don’t have to learn ’em; we just know ’em naturally—as we know everything else we know at all.”
“My, that’s great! You don’t have to go to school, not study, nor anything, do you?”
“No.”
“I wish I was a goblin.”
“But you’re not,” laughed Fitz Mee; “and you never will be.”
“But I’ll be a man some day, and that will be better.”
“Maybe you will.”
“Maybe?”
“You’ll never be a man if you stay in Goblinland.”
“I won’t?”
“No.”
“Won’t I ever grow any?”
“Not as long as you stay in Goblinland—and eat our kind of food.”
“Well, I’ll get older, and then I’ll be a man, or a goblin, or something—won’t I?”
“You’ll still be a boy.”
“Pshaw!” Bob pouted. “I don’t like that. You told me I could be what I pleased in Goblinland.”
“No, I didn’t,” Fitz Mee returned quietly but firmly. “I told you that in our country boys—meaning goblin boys, of course—were compelled to do what pleased them and were not permitted to do what pleased others. That law or custom is still in effect; and you, as a human boy, will be subject to it.”
“And I can do anything that pleases me?”
“You can’t do anything else.”
“Good!” Bob shouted gleefully. “I guess I’ll like Goblinland all right; and I don’t care if I do stay a boy. Am I the first human boy that ever got into your country, Fitz?”
“You’re the first human being of any kind that ever set foot in Goblinland.”
“Is that so? Well, I’ll try not to make your people sorry you brought me here, Fitz.”
“That’s all right, Bob,” his companion made reply, a little dejectedly, the boy thought. “And what would you like to do first—now that you are in a land that is absolutely new to you?”
“Fitz, I’d like to take a good long sleep.”
“That would please you?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“More than anything else, for the present?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Off to bed you go. You’ll find a couch in the next room. Go in there and tumble down.”
“I will pretty soon.”
“But you must go now.”
“Must go now? Why?”
“Because it’s the law in Goblinland that a boy shall do what he pleases—and at once.”
“Well, I won’t go to bed till I get ready, Fitz.”
“You don’t mean to defy the law, do you, Bob?”
“Doggone such an old law!” the lad muttered peevishly.
Fitz Mee giggled and held his sides and rocked to and fro.
“What’s the matter of you, anyhow?” Bob cried crossly.
His comrade continued to laugh, his knees drawn up to his chin, his fat face convulsed.
“Old Giggle-box!” the boy stormed. “You think you’re smart—making fun of me.”
Fitz Mee grew grave at once.
“Bob,” he said soberly, “you’ll get into trouble, and you’ll get me into trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“Go to bed at once, that’s a good boy.”
“I won’t do it.”
Just then the outer door opened and a uniformed officer stepped into the room.
“His honor, the mayor, begs me to say,” he gravely announced, “that as Master Robert Taylor has said that he would be pleased to sleep, he must go to sleep—and at once. His honor trusts that Master Taylor will respect and obey the law of the land, without further warning.”
The officer bowed and turned and left the house.
“Well, I declare!” Bob gasped, completely taken aback. “What kind of a country is this, anyhow?”
Fitz Mee tumbled to the floor, and rolled and roared.
The ludicrousness of the situation appealed to the fun-loving Bob, and he joined in his companion’s merriment. Together they wallowed and kicked upon the floor, prodding each other in the ribsand indulging in other rude antics indicative of their exuberant glee.
When they had their laugh out Bob remarked:
“Well, I’ll go to bed, Fitz, just to obey the law; but I don’t suppose I can snooze a bit.”
Contrary to his expectations, however, the lad, really wearier than he realized, soon fell asleep. He slept through the day and far into the hours of darkness; and it was almost dawn of the next day when he awoke. He quietly arose and began to inspect his surroundings. A soft white radiance flooded the room. He drew aside the window-blind and peeped out. Darkness reigned, but bright lights twinkled here and there. He dropped the blind and again turned his attention to the things within.
“I wonder if Fitz is awake,” he mumbled; “I’m hungry. I suppose he slept on the couch in the next room. I wonder where all this brightness comes from; I don’t see a lamp of any kind. Huh! It comes from that funny little black thing on the stand there. What kind of lamp can it be—hey?”
He walked over and looked at the strange object—a small perforated cone, from the many holes of which the white light streamed. Noticing a projecting button near the top of the black cone, he made hold to touch it and give it a slight turn. Instantly the holes had closed and the room was in darkness. He turned the button back again; and the holes were open and the room was light as day.
“Well, that beatsme!” muttered Bob. “It looks like an electric light; but I don’t see any wires. There aren’t any wires. I must find Fitz and learn about this thing.”
He peeped into the adjoining room, which was in darkness, and called:
“Fitz! Oh, Fitz! Are you asleep, Fitz?”
“Huh?” was the startled reply. “Yes—no, I guess so—I guess not, I mean.”
Bob laughed.
“Well, get up and come in here,” he said.
“Why, it isn’t morning yet,” the goblin objected.
“I’ve had my sleep out, anyhow.”
“Ihaven’t.”
“Well, get up and come in here, won’t you?”
“I suppose I might as well,” grumbled Fitz; “you won’t let me sleep any more.”
Then, appearing in the doorway and rubbing his pop eyes and blinking: “Now, what do you want?”
“First, I want to know what kind of a light this is,” indicating the little black cone.
“Why, it’s an electric light, of course,” Fitz Mee made answer, in a tone that showed his wonder and surprise that Bob should ask such a question.
“I don’t see how it can be, I don’t see any wires.”
“Wires?” chuckled Fitz. “We don’t need any wires.”
“Well, where does the electricity come from, then?”
“From the bug under the cone.”
“The bug?”
“Yes, the electric firefly. Didn’t you ever see one?”
Bob shook his head—half in negation, half in incredulity.
“Well, I guess they’re peculiar to Goblinland, then,” Fitz went on, grinning impishly. “We raise them here by thousands and use them for lighting purposes. The electric firefly is a great bug. Like the electric eel, it gives one a shock if he touches it; and like the ordinary firefly, it sheds light—but electric light, and very bright. I’ll show you.” He gingerly lifted the perforated cone.
There lay a bug, sure enough, a bug about the size of a hickory-nut, and so scintillant, so bright, that the eye could hardly gaze upon it.
“And this is the only kind of light you have in Goblinland, Fitz?” the boy asked.
“Yes. We light our houses, our streets, our factories, our mines, everything with them.”
“Wonderful!” Bob exclaimed. “And what do you do for fire, for heat?”
“We don’t need heat for our dwellings. Owing to the fact thatour country is protected from all cold winds by the high cliffs around it, and that the earth crust is thin over the fires of the volcano below, the temperature remains about eighty the year round. Then, we don’t cook any crude, nasty food, as you humans do; so—”
“No, you live on pills,” Bob interjected, in a tone of scorn and disgust. “Bah!”
“So,” Fitz Mee went on smoothly, unheeding his comrade’s splenetic interruption, “all we need heat for is in running our factories. For that we bore down to the internal fire of the earth.”
“Well—well!” Bob ejaculated. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Well, where are your factories, Fitz? I didn’t see anything that looked like factories when we got out of the balloon.”
“They’re all in caverns hewed in the cliffs.”
“And the fire you use comes from ’way down in the ground?”
“Yes.”
“And you light your factories with electric fireflies?”
The goblin gravely nodded. Bob was thoughtfully silent for a moment; then he remarked:
“It must be awfully hot work in your factories—the men shut up in caves, and no fresh air.”
“We have plenty of fresh air in our works,” Fitz hastened to make plain; “we have large funnel-shaped tubes running up to themountain-tops. The cold wind pours down through them, and we can turn it on or off at our pleasure.”
“Say!” Bob cried.
“What?” queried his companion.
“I’d like to go through your factories.”
“You mean what you say, Bob?”
“Mean what I say?” said Bob, in surprise bordering on indignation. “Of course I do.”
“That you’d like to go through our factories?”
“Certainly. Why not?”
“When do you want to make the—the experiment—the effort?”
“To-day—right away, soon as we’ve had something to eat.”
“All right, Bob,”—with a smile and a shake of the head,—“but—”
“But what?”
“Nothing. We’ll have breakfast and be off. It’s coming daylight, and the factories will be running full blast in an hour from now.”
“More pills for breakfast, I reckon,” Bob grumbled surlily.
“More tablets and pellets,” Fitz Mee grinned, rubbing his hands together and rolling his pop eyes.
“Huh!” the boy grunted ungraciously. “I wish you folkscooked and ate food like civilized people. I’m getting tired of nothing but pills. I can’t stand it very long—that’s all.”
“You’ll get used to it,” the goblin said, consolingly.
“Used to it!” the boy snorted angrily. “Yes, I’ll get used to it like the old man’s cow got used to living on sawdust; about the time she was getting used to it she died.” But he accepted the pellets and tablets his companion offered him, and meekly swallowed them. Then they caught up their caps and left the house.
Bob and his comrade went straight to the mayor’s office; and to that august official Fitz Mee said:
“Your honor, Master Taylor wishes to go through our factories.”
“So I’ve heard,” the mayor answered grimly, “but could hardly credit my ears.” Then to Bob: “Master Taylor, is this true that I hear: that you desire to go through our factories?”
“Yes, sir,” Bob replied respectfully but sturdily, rather wondering, however, why such an ado should be made over so small a matter.
“Very well, Fitz Mee,” said the mayor to that worthy, “I’ll depend upon you to see that Master Taylor goes through our factories; and I’ll hold you responsible for any trouble that may arise. Here’s your permit.”
When the two were out of the mayor’s presence and on their way to the factories, Bob remarked:
“Fitz, how did the mayor learn that I want to go through your machine-shops and places?”
“He heard us talking.”
“Heard us talking?”
“Yes. There’s a wireless telephone instrument in the room where we were, an automatic one that catches every sound.”
“Oh!”
“Yes.”
“And what did the mayor mean by saying he’d hold you responsible for any trouble that might arise?”
“Oh, nothing—nothing!” Fitz Mee answered hastily and grumpily.
The boy questioned his companion no further, and soon they crossed one of the picturesque bridges spanning the brook, ascended a long, gentle slope to the base of the black cliffs, and stood before a wide, nail-studded door. To the officers on guard Fitz Mee presented the mayor’s permit. The guard deliberately and carefully read the slip of paper, then he lifted his brows, drew down the corners of his mouth and grunted pompously:
“Fitz Mee, you’re aware of the import of this official document, are you?”
Fitz Mee nodded gravely, grimly, and Bob looked from one to the other in silent wonder.
Bob and his comrade went straight to the mayor’s office.
Bob and his comrade went straight to the mayor’s office.
The guard went on: “This permit of his honor, the mayor, says that not only is Master Robert Taylor, the friend and comrade of the honorable Fitz Mee, hereby permitted to go through our factories, but by the same token iscompelledto go through them, this being his expressed desire and pleasure; and that the honorable Fitz Mee shall be held responsible for any trouble that may thereby arise. That’s all right, is it, Fitz Mee?”
“It’s all right,” Fitz Mee muttered sullenly, but determinedly.
“Pass in,” said the officer, unbolting the door and dragging it open.
As soon as the two had stepped over the sill, the door was slammed shut behind them, and Bob heard the great bolts shot into place—and shuddered in spite of himself. On each side of him were smooth, solid walls of rock: ahead of him stretched a dusky corridor dimly lighted with electric fireflies suspended here and there. The dull rumble of distant machinery came to his ears; the faint smell of smoke and sulphurous fumes greeted him.
“Fitz?” the lad said to his comrade, who stood silent at his side.
The goblin simply gave the speaker a look in reply.
“Fitz,” Bob continued, “what’s the meaning of all this talk about my going through the factories? What’s the matter, anyhow?”
“Nothing—nothing!” Fitz murmured hoarsely, shiftily gazing here and there.
“Yes, there is,” the boy insisted. “Why do you all emphasize the word ‘through’?”
“Why—why,” Fitz stammered, rubbing his nose and blinking his pop eyes, “we thought maybe you didn’t mean that you desired to gothroughthe factories; thought maybe you meant you desired to gopartlythrough only—just wanted to seesomeof the things.”
“No,” Bob hastily made reply, “I want to go through; I want to see everything. Understand?”
Fitz nodded.
“Well, come on, then,” he said; “we’ve got to be moving.”
As they went along the corridor, Bob became aware of doors ahead opening to right and left. He saw the flash of flames and heard the whirr of wheels and the hub-bub of hammers.
“This room to the right,” said Fitz Mee, “is the machine-shop; that on the left is the forging-room.”
They visited each in turn, and the lad was delighted with all he saw.
“He! he!” he laughed when they were again out in the corridor and free from the thunder and crash and din that had almost deafened them. “The idea, Fitz, of me not wanting to go through your factories; of not wanting to see everything! You bet I want to go through! You thought I’d be afraid—that’s whatyouthought; and the mayor, too. But I’ll show you; I’m no baby—not much!”
His companion grinned impishly, but made no reply.
The next place they entered was the great moulding-room. Open cupolas were pouring forth white-hot streams of molten metal, which half-nude and sweaty, grimy goblins were catching in ladles and bearing here and there. The temperature of the room was almost unbearable; the atmosphere was poisonous with sulphurous gases. Bob crossed the threshold and stopped.
“Come on,” commanded his companion; “we must hurry along, or we won’t get through to-day.”
“I—I don’t believe I care to go through here,” Bob said hesitatingly.
“Why?” Fitz Mee jerked out.
“It’s so awful hot and smelly,” the boy explained; “and I’m—I’m a little afraid of all that hot metal.”
“No matter; you must go through here.”
“Imust?” Bob cried indignantly.
“Certainly. You said you’d be pleased to go through our factories;so now you must go through—through every apartment. Boys in Goblinville, you know, must do what pleases ’em.”
“But it doesn’t please me to go through this fiery furnace, Fitz.”
“Well, boys’re not allowed to change their minds every few minutes in Goblinville. Come on.”
“I won’t!” Bob said obstinately.
“You’ll get into trouble, Bob.”
“I don’t care.”
“And you’ll getmeinto trouble.”
“You into trouble? How?”
“You heard what the mayor said, didn’t you?”
“Y-e-s.”
“Well?”
“Well, I’ll go through for your sake, Fitz; but I don’t want to. It is a fool law or custom—or whatever it is—that won’t let a fellow change his mind once in a while, when he feels like it! A great way that is to let a boy do what he pleases! But lead on.”
They sauntered through the moulding—room, Bob trembling and dodging and blinking, and out into the corridor again.
“Mercy!” the urchin exclaimed, inhaling a deep breath of relief. “I don’t want any more of that! I’m all in a sweat and a tremble; I was afraid all the time some of that hot metal would splash on me.”
“It does splash on the workers at times,” Fitz Mee observed quietly.
Not heeding his companion’s remark, Bob continued: “And my lungs feel all stuffy. I couldn’t stand such a hot and smelly place more than a few minutes.”
“How do you suppose the moulders stand it for ten hours a day?” Fitz asked.
“I don’t see how they do—and I don’t seewhythey do,” the boy replied.
“You don’t see why they do?”
“No, I don’t.”
“For the same reason workmen stand disagreeable and dangerous kinds of work in your country, Bob; to earn a living.”
“I wouldn’t do it,” the boy declared loftily.
“You might have to, were you a grown man or goblin.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. My papa doesn’t have to do anything of the kind.”
“Your father’s a physician, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Well, doesn’t he miss meals, and lose sleep, and worry over his patients, and work sometimes for weeks at a time without rest or peace of mind?”
“Yes, he does.”
“But you’d rather do that than be a common laborer for eight or ten hours a day, would you?”
“I—I don’t know; I’d rather just be a boy and have fun all the time. And I guess I’ve seen enough of your factories, Fitz; I want to get out into the fresh air and sunshine again.”
“You must go on through,” the goblin answered, quietly but positively.
“Well, have we seen nearly all there is to see?”
“No, we’ve just begun; we haven’t seen one-tenth part yet.”
“Oh, dear!” Bob groaned. “I never can stand it, Fitz; it’ll take us all day.”
“Yes,” the goblin nodded.
“Well, I tell you I can’t stand it.”
“But you must; it was your choice.”
“Choice!” angrily. “I didn’t know What it would be like.”
“You shouldn’t have chosen so rashly. Come on.”
Bob demurred and pleaded, and whimpered a little, it must be confessed; but his guide was inexorable.
It is not necessary to enter into details in regard to all the boy saw, experienced and learned. Let it suffice to say that at three o’clock that afternoon he was completely worn out with strenuous sight-seeing. The grating, rumbling, thundering sounds had made his head ache; the sights and smells had made his heart sick. Hehad seen goblins, goblins, goblins—goblins sooty and grimed, goblins wizened and old before their time; goblins grinding out their lives in the cutlery factory; goblins inhaling poisonous fumes in the chemical works; goblins, like beasts of burden, staggering under heavy loads; goblins doing this thing, that thing and the other thing, that played havoc with their health and shortened their lives. And he was disgusted—nauseated with it all!
“Oh, Fitz!” he groaned. “I can’t go another step; I can’t stand it to see any more! I thought it would be pleasant; but—oh, dear!”
“Sit down here and rest a minute,” Fitz Mee said, not unkindly, indicating a rough bench against the wall of the corridor. “Now, why can’t you bear to see any more?”
“Oh, it’s so awful!” the boy moaned. “I can’t bear to see ’em toiling and suffering, to see ’em so dirty and wretched.”
The goblin laughed outright.
“Bob, you’re a precious donkey!” he cried. “True, the workers in the factories toil hard at dirty work—work that shortens their lives in some cases; but they’re inured to it, and they don’t mind it as much as you think. And what would you? All labor is hard, if one but thinks so; there are no soft snaps, if one does his duty. It’s the way of the goblin world, and it’s the way of the human world. All must labor, all must suffer more or less; there’s no escape for the highest or the lowest. And work has its compensation, has its reward; it—”
“Oh, shut up!” the lad muttered petulantly. “I don’t want to hear any more. You talk just like my papa does. I wish I’d never been born, if I’ve got to grow up and work. So there!”
“You’ll never grow up, if you stay in Goblinville, Bob,” Fitz Mee said softly; but his pop eyes were twinkling humorously. “And you won’t have to work—not much, anyhow.”
Bob sat soberly silent; evidently he was doing some deep thinking.
The goblin went on: “If you’re rested now, we’ll resume our sight-seeing.”
“I don’t want to see any more,” the lad grunted pugnaciously; “and I’m not going to, either.”
“Yes, come on.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Please do, Bob.”
“I won’t, I say.”
“You’ll get us both into trouble.”
“I don’t care if I do.”
“They’ll send us to prison.”
“What!”
“They will.”
“Who will?”
“The mayor and his officers.”
“Send us both?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” bristling, “I guess they won’t sendme—the old meddlers! They won’t dare to; I’m not a citizen of this country.”
“That won’t make any difference, Bob!”
“It will too. If they send me to prison, the people of my country will come over here and—and lick ’em out of their boots. Now!”
Fitz Mee bent double and stamped about the floor, laughing till the tears ran down his fat cheeks. But suddenly he sobered and said:
“Come on, Bob; you’ve got to.”
“I won’t!” the boy declared perversely. “Idon’thave to.”
The goblin made no further plea; but placing a silver whistle to his lips blew a sharp blast. In answer, a squad of officers stepped from the shadows.
“What’s wanted, Fitz Mee?” said the leader.
“This boy flatly refuses to obey the law, to go on through the factories, as he stated would please him.”
“Boy, is this true?” demanded the officer.
“Yes, it is,” Bob confessed fearlessly, shamelessly.
“Fitz Mee, he confesses,” muttered the officer. “What would you have me do?”
“Take him and carry him through,” Fitz Mee said icily.
“Very well,” answered the officer. “But if we do that we takethe case out of your hands, Fitz Mee. And in order to make a satisfactory report to the mayor, we’ll have to carry him through all the factories—those he has already visited as well as those he has not.”