“Yes, by thirteen seconds,” she announced triumphantly, “and Beelzebub refuses to renew the policy.”
“Great Scott!” ejaculated Dragonfel, with much chagrin. “This comes of trying to run business without an almanac!”
“Henceforth you will be compelled to be good,” said Euphrosyne.
“Yes,” said Dragonfel, in a rather shamefaced manner. “It may come rather hard at first, but I suppose I will get used to it in time. As a matter of fact, I’m growing rather tired of being bad. There’s nothing to it, after all. The only thing one gets from being bad is a lack of respect in the community.”
“I see you’re somewhat repentant,” said Euphrosyne encouragingly. “It’s a little late, of course, but still it’s better late than never. You understand, don’t you, that after this you’re to let the Brownies alone?”
“I should say I will let them alone,” coincided Dragonfel heartily. “The Brownies are too much for me. They have beaten me at every point. Even if I were disposed to do them further mischief I am placed in a rather delicate situation. I owe my life to the Brownies.”
“There is one thing on which I insist,” spoke up King Stanislaus. “You must do something for these poor mine-sprites.”
“I will see that they are restored to their parents from whom they were stolen,” asserted Dragonfel hastily. “Furthermore they shall all be given handsome dowries, with a beautiful solitaire diamond of a half-dozen karats more or less for each, so that when the right young man comes along the engagement-ring will be easy.”
Here the mine-sprite who had expressed her preference for the Policeman gave him a coy glance, but he twirled his club, and looked the other way.