An old gentleman, reading his paper across the aisle, received a great shock at this moment. His paper was suddenly dashed from his hand by a boy’s cap, which descended suddenly from above. It was Wendell’s cap,--not the magic one,--and he had thrown it in the air with a sudden “Hurrah!” as he heard what the Beauteous Maiden was thinking. After he had picked up the old gentleman’s paper and apologized, he pulled at the sleeve of the Beauteous Maiden and said, “Listen here a minute. I heard what you thought.” “What do you mean?” asked the Maiden. “I have on the Cap of Thought,” said Wendell. “Why, so you have,” said she. “And I wish you wouldn’t feel so bad,” he went on. “You can marry the young man just as well as not. I don’t want you to wait for me. By the time I’m grown up, I may like some other girl better. Anyway, you just needn’t consider me. Suit yourself entirely.” “Do you mean that? Really?” she asked. “I certainly do,” said Wendell fervently. “Oh, how perfectly wonderful!” she cried; and then Wendell took off his Cap of Thought, for her thoughts of the young man grew so enthusiastic that Wendell was rather bored by listening in. “Well, that’s well over,” he said to himself gayly “And I’m certainly coming out of this adventure all to the good. There’s the Pixie doing my fractions for me. There’s the Cloak of Darkness and the Cap of Thought whenever I want to do a little sleuthing, and there’s the Magic Book for all-’round enchantment. I certainly am in luck.” At Park Street he said good-bye to the grateful Beauteous Maiden and her leading man and started along Joy Street for home, with a light-heartedness that he had not known for days. He turned into his own street and there was Sammy Davis, shinnying up a street lamp. “Hi, Sam!” he called. “Come on over.” He suddenly realized that he had lost track of Sammy lately, with so many magic tasks on foot. “Come on in, Sam,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.” Sam came in. “It’s up in my room,” said Wendell. “Come on up.” Once there, Wendell brought out the Cloak of Darkness. “Is that all?” asked Sammy. “That’s enough, _I_ guess,” said Wendell. “You just wait.” He threw the Cloak around his shoulders. Sammy stared open-mouthed. He gazed around the room, then started up in fright and rushed to the open window. “Here I am,” cried Wendell, and stood there grinning, visible once more. While Sammy still stood staring, Wendell pulled the Cloak around himself again, and laughed outright at Sammy’s face. Then he came into sight again and asked generously, “Want to try it yourself?” Of course Sammy wanted to; and the boys took turns being “it” in a novel kind of blind-man’s-buff, which was a great deal more fun to Wendell than when he had played the same game with the Giant. After that, Wendell brought out the Cap of Thought and adjusted it to his head. “Now think of something, Sammy,” he said.