There was a rustling of the trees behind them and a sad voice called out: “I wish you’d take me with you. I’m afraid to stay alone.”
Billy looked quickly around and saw the Evening Star standing at a little distance, looking very pretty indeed in the soft light that seemed to sift out of her white frock.
“Oh, nonsense!” said Nimbus. “We’ve men’s work here. You don’t want to go anyway!”
Two bright tears stood in the Evening Star’s eyes and glistened in the glow that surrounded her. Nimbus clapped his hands in delight.
“There you are, you fellows!” he shouted; “come out of that.”
“Who?” cried Billy.
“The Rays—all of them. Don’t you see them hiding in those teardrops? Come, come. No more delay! I’ve important work for you.”
As he spoke, there suddenly appeared before him seven lively little chaps, each clad from head to foot in his own prismatic color, and all dancing excitedly about the ground.
“Go tell the old man that the Equator has got away,” commanded Nimbus. “And then come back here and make us a searchlight. If he isn’t back here where he belongs by to-morrow there’s no telling what will happen.”
Without a word the Rays suddenly united in a brilliant shaft of white light and whisked away over the treetops.