“Bless us,” cried Hugh, “but what do you suppose it is that guards the treasure?”
“Well, if you ask me, I’ll tell you,” said the big harvester; “it’s a trigorgon.”
“A trigorgon?” questioned Hugh. “And pray, sir, what is a trigorgon?”
“A trigorgon is a creature that has only three legs,” continued the big harvester. “It’s triangular and flattish, the one leg being at the front under the long neck, the two legs riding behind. Short, thick, elephant-like legs, body like a turtle, double rows of teeth, violent disposition. I’ve read of it in a book.”
“Bother your book,” cried red-ears. “The trigorgon you describe, my good sir, is quite impossible. A trigorgon has its two legs in front, and its one leg behind. A neck has got to have shoulders to rest on, hasn’t it? You see, young man, the trigorgon uses its one hind leg to push itself ahead at a frightful speed. I know!”
“How do you know?” asked the big harvester with some displeasure.
“Because the seventh son of a seventh son’s great-grandmother told me!” exclaimed red-ears triumphantly.
“Bother your seventh son’s great-grandmother!” shouted the big harvester. “Now, my book had large print and most wonderful pictures!”
“Pish!” said red-ears.
“Tush for you and your seventh son of a seventh son’s great-gran—”