"Until tomorrow morning."
There was a thin whistle in the air. "That isn't much time. I guess you'll be needing some assistance. Don't move for the next minute, my lad."
There seemed to be a crackling in the air around Kevan's head and then beside him stood a new jeep. It was painted a pleasant emerald green—which reminded Kevan of Kathleen Culanna's eyes—and lettered on the side were the words TROUBLESHOOTERS, INC.—OUR SPELLS, CURSES AND KNELLS ARE GUARANTEED.
"What's the slogan for?" Kevan asked.
"Oh," said the voice of Brian Shanachie, "that jeep was built to be used only in the land of the Little People and it doesn't hurt to advertise, you know. After all, we do work for both sides in making our adjustments. It helps to build confidence if they know that we guarantee to handle any matter up here which threatens them. But it's getting late. Perhaps you'd better run along. Oh, yes, there is one more thing. That is a new jeep and I didn't have time to install a spell-bumper. Some of the more provincial gnomes are not yet accustomed to our jeeps and may try to throw a spell at you. So if you notice one apparently weaving something in the air, I'd suggest that you dodge as quickly as possible. Good-by—and don't hesitate to call on me if you need anything."
There was dismissal in the voice, so Kevan MacGreene stepped gingerly into the jeep. It turned out, however, to be quite solid, so he sat down with growing confidence. The first thing that caught his eye was the compass just over the steering wheel. If anyone had told Kevan that a compass could manage to point Southeast by Northwest, he wouldn't have believed him—but this one did.
He stepped on the starter and the motor of the jeep caught with a full-throated roar which was the most comforting thing that had happened to Kevan since he'd left Brian Shanachie's office. He put it in gear and let out the clutch. The jeep leaped forward eagerly.
He was just driving past the palace, from which could still be heard a subdued roar, when he discovered a small gnome standing in the shadow of the building. The gnome was glaring at the green jeep and his hands were making strange passes in front of him. Kevan gazed at him curiously and then suddenly remembered what Brian Shanachie had said. He twisted the wheel and sent the jeep bouncing over a small hill.
Glancing back, he was glad he had remembered, for he was just in time to see a tree turn into some sort of giant pink worm and go wriggling off at a mad pace. The tree was just beyond where the jeep would have been if he'd continued straight. Kevan had no doubt that if he'd failed to turn, he would have been riding just such a pink monstrosity.