“Of course it does,” agreed Marjorie. “It concerns us very much to find out where the Dodo is.”
Dick hesitated no longer, but opened the note eagerly. His face fell, however, when he beheld the contents.
“Mind your own business!” he read, slowly. “What a sell! I believe the Dodo did write it, though, and intended it as a hint that we were not to try find and him. I’m half inclined to give it up.”
“But Dick, dear, remember,” said Marjorie, “we shall be—er—you know—what the Ambassador said—if we don’t find him.”
“Oh, ah,” said Dick, “I’d forgotten that. Come on, then; let’s see what can be done.”
“Can I be of any assistance?” said the thin fish, coming forward with a polite bow. “Have you lost anything?”
“Oh, thanks,” said Dick. “We’re looking for a Dodo. Do you happen to have seen one about here?”
“A Dodo,” said the fish, reflectively. “I don’t think I have the pleasure of the gentleman’s acquaintance. What kind of a fish is he?”
“Oh, he isn’t a fish at all,” explained Dick; “he is a kind of bird, you know.”
“Ah! birds we don’t encourage below the surface, as a rule,” said the fish, smiling indulgently. “You are scarcely likely to meet with him here. Perhaps His Majesty the King of the Fishes would advise you.”