Jim did a comprehensive gesture.
“Dis here hull joint is like de pantomimes down in de Bowery; when yer t’inks yer’s up ag’in trouble, de ceilin’ busts t’rough an’ down swoops de fairy wid de goods; or de stage splits up, an’ dey yanks down de vill’in out o’ sight. An’ de elf kids hops out of de bushes an’ give yer de glad hand. Yes, sir, yer has de game down fine! It’s sure some class, Sattum is; but lil, ol’ N’York has yer beat, at dat!”
While Jim thus expressed himself, his retinue withdrew a little, and watched the tall human creatures with shy curiosity.
Lamara stooped and gave the urchin a kiss. “And where are you going now?” she asked. Jim reddened and glistened under the tribute; but recovered himself.
“Me? I’s out fer blood!” he announced. “I leaves de boss ter tackle de yaller-haired kid, whilst I starts fer Torpy. I figgers you folks kin look out fer dis end of de line; but Torpy, ’tends ter him meself!”
“But how will you get to Tor” Argon asked.
“Don’ let dat worry yer, young feller! I ain’t much ter look at; but I meets up wid dat shiny gink—Sol Something he calls hisself—yer knows who I mean—he comes along, frien’ly like, an’ swots de big lizzud I was arguin’ wid; an’ after we’ve chinned fer a spell, he gives me crutch de once-over, see, an’ allows dere’s a hull kit o’ tools in her, what de fairies put dere; but I has a guess dat he done it hisself! Anyhow, she’s loaded fer bear, an’ when me an’ Torpy gits inter de ring, dere’ll be somp’n doin’, believe me!”
“Is this possible?” Argon asked Aunion in an undertone.
“I cannot interpret,” he replied, shaking his head.
“We may trust Solarion—he is of a higher order,” said Lamara. “Still, something disquiets me on the child’s account. But it is not for us to hold him back.”