"Killing more giants, I presume?" said Fee with heavy satire.
"Bagged three this afternoon," said Jack. "Hero Slaughters Trio of Titans."
"My name is Fo Fum," said the giant. Jack did not recognize it because of the trick pronunciation and the visitor had to explain.
"I'm sorry," said Jack, "but if you've come for extra copies of the paper in which your name figures I can't give you any. The edition is exhausted."
Fo Fum spluttered and blew a bale of paper out of the window.
"Cut that out," said Jack severely. "All complaints must be made in writing. And while I'm about it you forgot to put your name down on one of those slips at the desk in the reception room. Don't forget to fill in that space about what business you want to discuss with the editor."
Fo Fum started to roar, but Jack's high and pathetic tenor cut through the great bass like a ship's siren in a storm.
"If you don't quit shaking this building I'll call Julius the office boy and have him throw you out."
"Take the air," added Jack severely, disregarding the fact that Fo Fum before entering the office had found it necessary to remove the roof. But now the giant was beginning to stoop a little. His face grew purple and he was swaying unsteadily on his feet.
"Hold on a minute," said Jack briskly, "don't go just yet. Stick around a second."