The Kobold chuckled grimly—an exclusive sort of chuckle that made Wendell feel very much out of the joke.
“If you wish to win the Maiden’s freedom,” he said slowly, “you will first have to guess a riddle. You may have three chances to give the answer. If you guess correctly on any one of those trials, the Maiden shall be restored to her original form. If
“WHO SUMMONS ME?” SAID THE KOBOLD
you fail, she shall still remain a frog, and you too shall be transformed into another shape at my will.”
“Good gracious!” cried Wendell. “Is there as much to it as all that? I’m not going to be changed into anything at anybody’s will. You can keep your old riddle and your frog, too, for all of me.” He turned to go.
“Stay!” cried the Kobold, so he stayed to listen.
“I might add,” said the Kobold, “that while the above terms are my regular ones, I might make a slight reduction in your case, as business is particularly dull just now. Indeed, to be candid, it is nearly a hundred years since I have had any opportunity to hold this guessing contest.”
“Well, how much of a reduction?” asked Wendell. “Will you leave out the part about transforming me? Say, if I win, the frog changes back to the Maiden, and if I lose, it stays a frog?”