"Yes," responded her sister. "Daddy always knows; so we won't hurry; and then we shan't get so hot either." [Illustration: _Shadow chasing_] It was hot enough, though, hurry or no hurry, for the morning was unusually sultry. The sun beat down upon them, the ground was steaming and the air was all in a quiver; and what was worse, though they kept on walking and walking, they seemed to get no nearer to the other end of their shadows. It was rather discouraging. They were persevering little girls, however, and knowing how pleased Daddy would be to learn whether it really was true about Coco Bolo and the Archbishop and Lobsterneck, the Great American Snap-Dragon, they kept on and on, growing more tired and more hot and more discouraged at every step--especially Frances, who had the puppy to carry--when, without their having noticed what had become of them, their shadows suddenly disappeared! On the brink of a steep little cliff about six feet high, at the foot of which the waters of a small inlet gently lapped the rocks, there stood a grove of ten or twelve trees--short, stubby trees, all leaning landward, as trees growing on the edge of the sea always do. The shadows led the children straight to this grove of trees, and there, lo and behold! they vanished. Where had they got to? Margaret and Frances looked all about. They looked upon the ground and they looked up into the trees, but look where they might no shadows could they see. Where _had_ they got to? "I wonder," said Frances, "if this isn't the place where Tommy--Tommy--what was his other name?" "Little Tom Titmouse," replied her sister. "Perhaps it is. So let us sit down and wait. Perhaps, if we sit still and keep quiet, we may see King Coco Bolo and the Archbishop and--Are there such things as tame dragons, Frances?" she asked, suddenly remembering with some misgivings that little Tom Titmouse, besides making the desirable acquaintance of King Coco Bolo and the Archbishop, had also encountered a dragon--which was quite another thing. "There must be," replied Frances, reflectively. "Daddy told us to try to get to that place, and if the dragon hadn't been a tame dragon he wouldn't--" "No, of course he wouldn't," interrupted Margaret, reassured. "So we'll sit down and wait, and perhaps--Oh! Look!" pointing out over the shimmering sea. "There are some new islands! One, two, three of them, besides the old ones. Look! Oh! One of them has split in two! Now there are four! Now there are five! What funny islands!"