“Why, in case my cruel stepmother should work a charm on you, or in case the giant should eat you up.” “Oh, I see,” said Wendell, “I hadn’t thought of that.” “Well, of course, we’ll hope for the best,” said the Beauteous Maiden. “Here is the address in Brookline. You take the car from Park Street. You know what you have to do,--rob my stepmother of the three magic gifts that give her her power as a witch,--the Cloak of Darkness, the Cap of Thought and the Book of Spells. The Book of Spells has every charm in the world.” “Why not just take the book then?” asked Wendell. Of course, the minute he had asked it, he knew it was a stupid question. “Because things always go by threes, Silly,” said the Beauteous Maiden. “After the witch is powerless, your next task will be to kill the giant; and the Book of Spells will undoubtedly help you there. Now farewell, dear Deliverer. I must find that movie man.” “Good-bye,” said Wendell. He was glad to be alone. He had a great deal to face and a great deal to plan. Besides that, he had been rubbed the wrong way by the Beauteous Maiden, who really [Illustration: SAID THE BEAUTEOUS MAIDEN, “YOUR NEXT TASK WILL BE TO KILL THE GIANT”] seemed to think it was a small thing for him to be eaten by a giant for her sake. He said as much to the Pixie, who came in that evening, tremendously interested in the answer to the Kobold’s riddle, and eager to encourage Wendell in his next adventure. CHAPTER X IN THE GIANT’S HOUSE “Oh, yes, it _sounds_ easy,” grumbled Wendell. “Just walk into a witch’s house and steal her magic cloak. Easy as rolling off a log. Only how am I going to do it, I’d like to know.” “I might help,” said the Pixie. “I rather like a lark of that kind.” “Oh, if _you_’d help,” said Wendell. “That would be great. What could you do?” “Well, I have some rather neat transformation charms, myself,” said the Pixie. “I suppose if I once got you into the house, you could do the rest.” “I guess so,” said Wendell. “I could hide in the oven or something.” “I’ll have to make you pretty small to get into one of these gas ranges they use now-a-days,” said the Pixie thoughtfully. “You have to think of everything, you know, in this business, or else you lose by a fluke. I have it. I’ll change myself into an organ grinder, and you into the monkey.” “Yes!” jeered Wendell. “Nice chance a monkey would have to be let into anybody’s house.” “Well, of course,” said the Pixie, somewhat crestfallen, “it was only a suggestion.” “It’s got to be something that anybody would be glad to have in their house,” said Wendell. “Something helpful. A furnace man. Or a gas man--to read the meter.” “Nobody’s glad to have _him_ in their house,” grunted the Pixie. “But I get your idea. Why not a plumber to stop a leak? I have a fine plumber’s transformation among my charms. I’ll be the plumber and you can go as my assistant. Good idea, what?” “The very thing,” said Wendell.