“Just make a giant of me?”
“That’s all.”
“And I can go back to boy size or goblin size, when I want to?”
“Yes; all you’ll have to do is to take a few gob-tabs.”
“Ugh! more pills. Well, all right; I’ll do it, then. I’ll make a giant of myself, and sail in and knock these Portuguese galley-west—and carry you off.”
“Well, do it right now,” Fitz cried impatiently.
“I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” peevishly.
“I don’t dare take the giant-tabs till I’m upon the ground, you understand; my size would wreck the balloon. And I don’t dare to come to the ground, right here and right now; the Portuguese would capture me before I could do anything. See?”
“Y-e-s,” Fitz Mee admitted, disappointment in his voice. “But what are you going to do?”