Bob bristled instantly.
“Don’t you call me names,” he cried angrily. “You old—old Epilepsy!”
“Epilepsy!” the goblin cackled hoarsely, holding his sides and weaving to and fro. “What does that word mean?”
“Fits,” the boy answered tersely.
“Ho—ho!” the goblin continued to tackle. “You call me names, but you don’t want me to call you names. Say, Bob?”
Bob made no reply.
“Bob?” Fitz repeated in as pleasant a voice as he could command.
Bob maintained a stubborn silence.
“Bob,” his companion went on, “the reason we stopped rising is because the weight of the balloon just balances an equal volume of air at this height. Understand?”
“Yes,” the lad muttered rather grumpily.