“Oh, no you don’t, my friend! Oh, no you don’t!”
The East Wind paused, and looked round in astonishment. But he could see no one.
“I am a kind of fairy god-father to those three ‘little bits of rubbish,’” continued the voice, “and anyone who harms them will have to reckon with me!”
The East Wind grew slightly nervous. And the voice went on, “If you take MY advice——”
“Who,” burst out the East Wind, “is going to take your advice when they can’t even see you? Who are you?” he added, feeling nervous and irritated.
“Mr. Atom, at your service!” laughed the gallant little person. “And, if you lay a finger on these children, I shall just——”
“In that case, I’m off!” cried the East Wind, without even waiting to hear just exactly what Mr. Atom would do, for he was a great coward, and frightened of anything that he couldn’t see or understand.
And away he flew, back to India, in a very bad mood.
“H’m! I’m rather sorry I frightened him away like that,” remarked Mr. Atom; “he may have had the December day that Coppertop is in search of. They’d better rouse up in double-quick time, and follow the rascal back to India.”
“Wake up! Wake up!! WAKE UP!!!” He cried to the sleeping children.