"A——very——fast——friend!" stuttered Herby, clutching Philador by the belt and wincing each time he struck the saddle. And so up the mountain pounded High Boy, his front legs short, his back legs long and his umbrella tail switching behind him.
CHAPTER 11
The King of Cave City
The same morning that Philador was having his amazing experiences in the Good Witch's hut and on Joe King's Mountain, Trot and her friends were having some curious adventures in Cave City.
"Where are we going?" asked Trot, following the old mer-man cautiously and once almost treading on his tail.
"To the King," answered the mer-man sadly.
"Do you call this a city?" sniffed the Scarecrow, looking scornfully down the dim damp corridors opening to right and left and the muddy stream of water flowing through the center.
"No, I don't call it a city," wheezed their guide resting for a few moments on his crutches, "but you had better not let the cave men hear you criticizing their town. It will go hard enough with you as it is." Sighing to himself the old fellow went tapping along on his crutches. "Wait till Silly sees you," he mumbled mournfully.