Harry turned to Wamby: “What do you say? Shall we fight them?”
Poor little Wamby shook his head hopelessly.
“I’ll fight if you command me to; I am your servant; but it will do no good. There are too many of them.”
“What can we do, then?” inquired Harry.
“Nothing, except go back,” said Wamby. “Dear me! I wish I had my hat-pin now!”
“What good would that do?”
“Why, then we could control them. But they took away my hat-pin, of course, when they arrested me.”
Harry thrust his hand in his pocket and drew forth a package. “See here, Wamby,” said he, “here’s a hat-pin that I brought down as a present for you, but I forgot all about it till this moment. Would this be any good?” He opened the package and showed a large, gold-headed hat-pin, much like the one belonging to the King, only handsomer.
“Just the thing!” cried Wamby. And grasping the pin in his hand he held it up before him, and sprang upon the seat in the boat’s stern, shouting: “Behold the royal emblem!”
At the sight, every soldier dropped his spear, and bowed low to the ground.