While the King regarded him with mingled misgivings and admiration, Chalk snapped out directions to the clumsy little groom who came running in answer to his summons. When his mane and tail had been thoroughly brushed and he was decked out once more in the splendid saddle and trappings he had worn on his first appearance in Skampavia, he dismissed the groom with a haughty toss of his head.
"Come!" he breathed mysteriously. "Climb up, Skamperoo, and we'll Skamperoodle before that rascally merchant even misses us. Have you decided upon the place we are to go?" he questioned curiously as the King made seven frantic attempts to put his foot in the golden stirrup. "Heh! Heh! Heh! The other foot, Master. How do you ever expect to mount that way? Stand on the bucket, Kingaling, catch hold of the saddle and pull. It's easy as oats once you get the hang of it."
"Is it?" Lying mournfully on his back where he had fallen after his last effort, Skamperoo gazed mournfully upward and Chalk himself began to champ, snort and switch his tail with irritation.
"You wished me on yourself and now it looks as if you would have to wish yourself on me," he muttered savagely. "Here, give me those necklaces—hang them over my ear and let's have done with this shameful exhibition."
"You mean—if I wish myself upon your back I will really be there?" panted Skamperoo, bouncing up like a rubber ball. "You mean you have discovered the secret of the emeralds?"
"Certainly!" The white horse regarded him scornfully through half-closed eyes, and the King, all too willing to be convinced, unclasped his three necklaces and, standing on tip toe, hung them over Chalk's right ear.
"I—I wish to be upon this creature's back," puffed Skamperoo, his cheeks swelling out with suspense and importance. "One, two, three, four, five, six—" and scarcely had he begun to count before he found himself firmly seated in the saddle.
"Now, now, not another word," commanded Chalk sternly. "Before you dare to speak, take those emeralds off my ear." With shaking hands the King did as he was told, his heart pounding so violently it almost kicked a hole in his shirt.
"That's right," directed the white horse more mildly. "Now suppose you tell me where you intend to wish us and what we do after that? Wishes are pretty quick, you know, and it is best to be prepared."