“You said the magic words that summon me,” repeated the apparition. “I am here to do your bidding.”
“Oh, I see,” said Wendell. “Good work! Please take this Book home for me.”
“I obey,” returned the stranger. He lifted the Book on his shoulder, turned down the stairs and vanished straight through the locked door.
Wendell scrambled after him, first drawing around him the Cloak of Darkness, which he had thrown off. Not being a magic apparition, himself, he was forced to unlock the door to get through, and this delayed him a moment. So he caught just a glimpse of the genie, vanishing through the front door without opening it. But the witch and her daughter had seen him go and seen the Book on his shoulder; and the daughter’s mind was whirling like a merry-go-round, as Wendell easily perceived.
However, it was quite otherwise with her mother. The former witch sat on the lowest step of the stairs, with such a happy and peaceful look that Wendell hardly knew her. “Free at last!” she was exulting
“I AM THE SLAVE OF THE CHARM,” REPLIED THE STRANGER
inwardly. “I have lost the Cloak and the Cap and now the Book, and at last I am disenchanted.” Wendell was glad she felt so good about it. He stayed invisible, never-the-less, and hurried out after his slave, who was now nowhere in sight. His trail could be followed, however, by a long line of small boys, stringing out after him as if they were running to a fire. As it seemed impossible to overtake him on foot, Wendell took an electric for home. Evidently, his slave was there before him, to judge from the excitement that still reigned among the boys on his block. “Say, Wendell,” they hailed him, “you ought to ’a seen the guy that just went into your house!”
Wendell found the front door intact, and went up to his room. There on his study table lay the Book. The slave had vanished. Wendell’s first impulse was to read it from cover to cover, but he was mindful of the Pixie’s warning. He had already had one demonstration of the wonderful power and immediate operation of its charms. This once, it had turned out very neatly for him, but he might not be so fortunate another time. So he opened the Book very gingerly and pressed his lips tight together, for fear of being betrayed by his intense interest into reading some powerful and dangerous passage aloud.