"You mean grow across?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead doubtfully. "Impossible!" roared Belfaygor, throwing up his shears and hands indignantly. "Wouldst jerk out my whiskers? Besides they grow down and not up." "Pause!" Holding up one claw, the Iffin looked solemnly from one to the other. "First," explained Snif quietly, "Belfaygor must walk three times around a tree. That will make his beard fast and keep it from pulling. Then I will take the end of the beard in my claws, fly across the chasm and fasten it to a tree on the other side. Then when Peter and Jack have crossed, the Baron can snip off the beard close to his chin and cross himself in safety. What think you of that, my brave comrades?" "Why, that's a perfectly splendid idea!" cried Peter, jumping up enthusiastically. "How ever did you think of it?" "Well," Snif reminded him gaily, "for five years I did nothing but think--so thinking comes easy to me. How about it Baron, will you lend us your beard?" "Yes," answered Belfaygor readily enough, now that he had heard the Iffin's plan, "even if it hurts I will do it. I'll do anything to save Shirley Sunshine from that villainous bandit." "Then everything's settled!" cried Peter, who hated delay or inactivity of any kind. "Let's start!" "Not now," said the Iffin, shaking his little head seriously. "We must wait till morning Peter. As I cannot carry you all up to the castle itself, you will have to climb over the rocks and cliffs to the city gates. This will be bad enough by daylight, but impossible at night." "That's so," agreed Peter regretfully. "And what's to become of us when we reach the city gates?" quavered Jack in a hollow voice. "Will not these Baffleburghers impale us upon their spears?" "Oh, I hope not," muttered the Iffin, settling down on Peter's shoulder, "but we'll have to take a chance on it. My guess is that the guards will seize and carry you to Mogodore. Once in Mogodore's presence, Peter can open the sack, and after the sack swallows everyone, we'll find the Princess and return to the capitol on foot." "What about my beard?" asked Belfaygor nervously. "If they make us prisoners and take away my shears, we'll all be smothered." "Well, so will they," Snif reminded him philosophically, "and that will be some comfort." Already Snif seemed to have forgotten his dreadful mishap and to have recovered his former good spirits, and under the influence of the merry little monster the whole party grew quite cheerful and gay. "Come along," he called, flying on ahead. "Let's find some place to sleep. Is that a cave I see over there?"