“Of course! Aren’t we on our way to Goblinland, to have the time of our lives—hey?” shrewdly.
“Well, I’ll go back to the form of a goblin, then, Fitz; but—ugh!—I don’t like the pills!”
They topped the hill and reached the hut where Bob had taken the old woman’s dinner. He told the goblin what he had done, and the goblin chuckled and spluttered in great glee. The boy-giant shook him and said to him:
“Have you any more gold about you?”
“A little,” the green sprite made reply. “Why?”
“I want it.”
“What for?”
“To pay that old woman for the dinner I ate.”
“Well, you can’t have it.”
“I can’t?”