Then they sat upon the locker and glared at each other—and burst out laughing.
“Well, we got away, anyhow,” Fitz said.
“That’s what we did,” Bob replied.
“Let’s be off.”
“All right.”
“Here’s for Goblinland!” waving his arms.
“Hurrah!” waving his cap.
Fitz began to manipulate the selector.
“You haven’t set that needle right,” the boy objected.
“Huh?”—sharply.