"Sure," bawled Ting, "I'll find out some way. I didn't think I could at first, but since I've seen you, I've simply got to."
And when he said that the Inherited Princess grew pinker than ever and did not seem to know what to say. But even if she had known what to say she probably would not have said it for all of a sudden the snoring stopped and the twenty-headed Gallopus came hurrying out of his cave as mad as could be.
"Didn't you tell me you wouldn't make any noise?" he demanded of Ting, angrily. "You said if I took a nap you'd be as quiet as a mouse, and yet you've made such a rumpus it woke me up. Such a hooting and tooting I never heard."
"That wasn't me," said Ting. "That was you—snoring."
"I—snoring?" howled the monster, furiously. "Oh, that's—that's the worst insult yet. I never snore, sir, never. I—I wouldn't know a snore if I heard one. And even if I did snore it would sound like a harp or something like that, and not like a roll of musketry. The idea, telling me I snore!"
Thereupon, with every one of his twenty heads snarling, and his body whirling about like a pin-wheel, the Gallopus started for the Prince. And the minute he started the Prince started also, in the opposite direction.
"Oh," shrieked the Princess, "he'll eat you."
"He'd—he'd better not," cried Ting, running around and around the courtyard as fast as he could.
"Bah!" shouted the Gallopus, "don't tell me what I'd better not do. And stop running so. How am I ever going to catch you if you run around so?"
All of which showed what a silly old thing the twenty-headed Gallopus was, for he might have known that Ting would not stop running around. Indeed, he ran so fast that the monster finally stopped and stood panting with his forty cheeks all puffed out. And then it was that the Princess leaned out of the window, extended her hand, and Ting, giving a leap, seized it and jumped in at the casement where she sat.