“Shall I tell her Royal Highness of the great good fortune that has befallen her?” asked the Prime Pumper, starting for the door.
“Do so at once,” snapped Pompus. Just then he gave a scream of fright and pain, for a round shiny object had flown through the air and struck him on the head. “What was that?”
The Prime Pumper looked suspiciously at the Elegant Elephant. Kabumpo glared back.
“A—a warning!” stuttered the Prime Pumper, afraid to say that Kabumpo had flung the offending missile. “A warning, your Majesty!”
“It’s nothing of the kind,” said the King angrily. “You’re getting old, Pumper and stupid. It’s—why it’s a door knob! Who dares to hit me with a door knob?”
“It hit me once,” mumbled Kabumpo, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other three. “How does it strike you?”
“As an outrageous piece of impertinence!” spluttered Pompus, turning as red as a turkey cock.
“Perhaps it has something to do with the scroll,” suggested Queen Pozy, taking it from the King. “See! It is gold and all the door knobs in the palace are ivory. And look! Here are some initials!”
Sure enough! It was gold and in the very centre were the initials P. A.
Just at this interesting juncture the page, who had been poking his head in the door every few minutes, gathered his courage together and rushed up to the King.