It was so stupendous, such an unbelievable piece of good fortune, that at first he did not grasp its possibilities. Then his eye fell on the open book lying on his desk.
“Say!” he exclaimed. “If that’s all true, if I’m really living in a fairy story, there ought to be some way of settling junk like this in short order.” He gave a vindictive thump to the arithmetic.
“That’s what I came for,” said the Pixie. “I thought I saw a business opening here.”
“You mean—” faltered Wendell.
“Why, I’ll do your problems for you. That’s easy. And you do three tasks for me.”
“Three?”
“Yes, it’s always three,” said the Pixie.
“Say, I think I ought to get more than just these problems for three. I think you ought to do my home work till the end of the term.”
“Just as soon,” said the Pixie. “No trouble to me. Is it a bargain?”
“But what will you want me to do?” said Wendell.