“Let’s make it eight o’clock in the morning,” said Wendell. “I could drop in here on the way to school.”
“To-morrow?” asked the Kobold.
“N-no,” hesitated Wendell. “I’ll need a little time on this thing.”
“I’ll wager you will,” chuckled the old Kobold, growing almost slangy in his dignified glee.
“Say the day after to-morrow,” suggested Wendell.
“Agreed!” said the Kobold. “You will find me here outside the hill. And mind you bring back that frog. It is not your property, you must remember.”
“I will. I’ll be glad to,” returned Wendell hurriedly. The frog was already on his nerves.
“And only two more guesses,” added the Kobold.
“I know,” said Wendell meekly. He was very much mortified to have failed so quickly through his own assurance. He went back through the silent streets, let himself in quietly and bolted the back door, took off his shoes and groped up to his room, where the Pixie sat awaiting him.