"Stole it! How dreadful," they all cried in a chorus.
"And they made us slaves," said Trot.
"An' wanted fer to patch us," added Cap'n Bill indignantly.
"So we ran away and passed through the Fog Bank and came here," said Button-Bright.
The Pinkies turned away and conversed together in low tones. Then one of the women came forward and addressed the strangers. "Your story is the strangest we have ever heard," said she, "and your presence here is still more strange and astonishing. So we have decided to take you to Tourmaline and let her decide what shall be your fate."
"Who is Tourmaline?" inquired Trot doubtfully, for she didn't like the idea of being "taken" to anyone.
"The Queen of the Pinkies. She is the sole Ruler of our country, so the word of Tourmaline is the Law of the Land."
"Seems to me we've had 'bout enough of kings an' queens," remarked Cap'n Bill. "Can't we shy your Tut-Tor-mar-line—or whatever you call her—in some way an' deal with you direct?"
"No. Until we prove your truth and honor we must regard you as enemies of our race. If you had a Magic Umbrella, you may be magicians and sorcerers come here to deceive us and perhaps betray us to our natural enemies, the Blueskins."
"Mud and bricks, fiddlesticks!
We don't play such nasty tricks,"