“We ought to reach Ev by evening,” puffed Wag, between hops.
“But I wish we could open the Magic Box,” sighed Peg, holding on to Wag’s ear, “for in that box there’s Flying Fluid!”
“We’d make a remarkably nice lot of birds,” chuckled Kabumpo, looking over his shoulder, “now wouldn’t we?”
“You would,” laughed Pompa. “What else was in the box, Peg?”
It was hard to talk while they were being jolted along, but Peg, being of wood, did not feel the bumps and Pompa, being a Prince, pretended not to, so that they continued their conversation in jerky sentences.
“There’s Vanishing Cream, a little tea kettle and some kind of rays and a Question Box,” said Peg, holding up her wooden hand. “A Question Box that answers any question you ask it.”
“There is!” exclaimed Kabumpo, stopping short. “Well, I wish we could ask it whether Pumperdink has disappeared.”
“And how to rescue Ozma, and who sent the scroll!” cried Pompa. “Oh, do let me try to open it, Peg!”
So Peg handed over Glegg’s Magic Box and as they pounded along the Prince tried to pry it open with his pearl pen knife. “It would save us such a lot of trouble,” he murmured, holding it up and screwing his eye to the keyhole.
“Better let it alone,” advised Wag, wiggling his ears nervously. “Suppose you should grow as big for you as I am for me. Suppose you should explode or vanish!”