“Homesick already, are you, before you’re out of sight of home?” Fitz Mee queried, his eyes upon the curious instrument he had placed in the bottom of the car.
“No, I’m not homesick!” Bob retorted sharply.
“You’re not?” Fitz grinned provokingly. “What did you mean by your words, then?”
“I was just admiring the beautiful scene, that’s all,” Bob explained.
“Oh!” ejaculated the goblin, wagging his head and saucily extruding his tongue.
“Uh-huh,” the lad nodded in return.
“Well, I’ll show you scenes far more beautiful—in Goblinland.”
It was Bob’s turn to sneer.
“Maybe you will,” he said.
“I will,” Fitz asserted positively.