“Who are you?”
“I am Dick Verrinder, sir, and this is my sister Marjorie, and our little brother Fidge,” said Dick politely. “We are spending our summer holiday at Mrs. Lawrence’s cottage on the other side of the cliff. The tide rose very high this morning, and we——”
“Don’t tell me all that nonsense. What do you know about the Dodo?” said the little man, impatiently.
“Why, we met it floating about on a chair, and it told us that it was going to the Equator to meet a—a—er—a——”
“Well?”
“It was something with a very long name,” stammered Dick; “I can’t quite remember what.”
“Look here,” said the little man, bending forward excitedly, “that story won’t do for me. I am the Ambassador Extraordinary of his Magnificence the little Panjandrum, and you tell me that you have seen the Dodo; that is enough. Now then! Where is it? It’s no use telling me that it has gone off to keep an appointment with something with a long name. I say, where is the bird? If you don’t instantly produce that Dodo I shall take you before the Court of Inquisitives, and let them deal with you.”
“But I tell you,” began Dick, while Marjorie clung to his arm in affright, and Fidge scowled angrily at hearing his idolized big brother spoken to in this peremptory manner, “I tell you that we only saw it for a——”
“That’s quite enough. Don’t argue the point. I shall give you one week from now, and if at the end of that time you do not appear at the Palace of the little Panjandrum with the Dodo, I shall apply to the Grand Panjandrum himself to have you subtransexdistricated, so there!”
“But——”