"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" he cried. "Oh, my—oh, dear! That's funnier still—now you're nothing but a pair of legs. Hee-hee-hee! Take it off quick or I'll die with laughter."
Jimmieboy took off the hood.
"I'm afraid it won't do, Spritey," he said. "Fortyforefoot would see my legs and if he caught them I'd be lost."
"That's a fact," said the sprite, thoughtfully. "The coat is almost two feet too short for you."
"It's more than two feet too short," laughed the major. "It's two whole legs too short."
"This is no time for joking," said the sprite. "We've too much to talk about to use our mouths for laughing."
"All right," said the major. "I won't get off any more, or if I do they won't be the kind to make you laugh. They will be sad jokes—like yours. But I say, boys," he added, "I have a scheme. It is of course the scheme of a soldier and may be attended by danger, but if it is successful all the more credit to the one who succeeds. We three people can attack Fortyforefoot openly, capture him, and not let him go until he provides us with the provisions."
"That sounds lovely," sneered the sprite. "But I'd like to know some of the details of this scheme. It is easy enough to say attack him, capture him and not let him go, but the question is, how shall we do all this?"
"It ought to be easy," returned the major. "There are only three things to be done. The first is to attack him. That certainly ought to be easy. A kitten can attack an elephant if it wants to. The second is to capture him, which, while it seems hard, is not really so if the attack is properly made. The third is not to let him go."
"Clear as a fog," put in the sprite. "But go on."