"What did I tell you?" asked the creature. "Was I right, or was I wrong?"
"This scroll," said Rinkitink, "is indeed a masterpiece. Its advice is of tremendous value. 'Never step on another man's toes.' Let us think this over. The inference is that we should step upon our own toes, which were given us for that purpose. Therefore, if I stepped upon another man's toes, I would be the other man. Hoo, hoo, hoo!—the other man—hee, hee, heek-keek-eek! Funny, isn't it?"
"Didn't I say—" began Bilbil.
"No matter what you said, my boy," roared the King. "No fool could have figured that out as nicely as I did."
"We have still to decide how to remove the blocks of marble," suggested Inga anxiously.
"Fasten a rope to them, and pull," said Bilbil.
"Don't pay any more attention to Rinkitink, for he is no wiser than the man who wrote that brainless scroll. Just get the rope, and we'll fasten Rinkitink to one end of it for a weight and I'll help you pull."
"Thank you, Bilbil," replied the boy. "I'll get the rope at once."
Bilbil found it difficult to climb over the ruins to the floor of the banquet hall, but there are few places a goat cannot get to when it makes the attempt, so Bilbil succeeded at last, and even fat little Rinkitink finally joined them, though much out of breath.
Inga fastened one end of the rope around a block of marble and then made a loop at the other end to go over Bilbil's head. When all was ready the boy seized the rope and helped the goat to pull; yet, strain as they might, the huge block would not stir from its place. Seeing this, King Rinkitink came forward and lent his assistance, the weight of his body forcing the heavy marble to slide several feet from where it had lain.
But it was hard work and all were obliged to take a long rest before undertaking the removal of the next block.