"Turn off your fire works! Do you want to burn her to a crisp?" shouted the stone man, waving his umbrella boldly under Quiberon's very nose. "Can't you talk without smoking?" he continued crossly, "You're turning me quite black." "Speak without smoking," muttered the monster in a puzzled voice. "Well, I might try it. Is this better?" he grunted presently. Benny nodded and waving the cloud of smoke from before his eyes peered anxiously downward. "What do you want with Trot?" he asked suspiciously. "I want her for a servant," answered Quiberon promptly. "She must polish my scales, comb my hair," he lifted a great silver lock that hung between his horns, "sweep out the cave and tell me stories." Benny was about to snap his stone fingers in the monster's face, when Trot tapped him sharply on the ankles. "Don't make him angry," whispered the little girl. "Maybe if I tried it for a time we could find a way to escape." Disgusted at the thought of Trot even looking at such a creature, Benny nevertheless realized that she was more experienced in the ways of this fairy kingdom than he was. Stifling an impulse to jump on the monster's head Benny called gruffly: "Will you promise not to hurt her?" "Not at first," agreed Quiberon readily enough. "Not till she tells me all she knows about mortals. That's fair enough, isn't it?" With an angry grunt Benny stepped aside and Trot and the Scarecrow slipped out of the crevice. "Remember now, no more firing," quavered the Scarecrow, "and no nonsense either!" "Pooh!" sniffed Quiberon so vigorously the Scarecrow was blown five feet into the air and only saved by the quick action of Benny from falling into the tumbling stream below. "What shall I do first?" asked Trot, bowing timidly to Quiberon. "You may practice some songs," purred the dragon drowsily. "And when I return you may sing me to sleep." "Are we going to stand for this?" demanded Benny in a furious whisper to the Scarecrow, who was balanced insecurely on a sharp spike jutting out from the side of the cave. "Hush!" warned the Scarecrow. "I'm thinking!" And putting his cotton finger to his wrinkled forehead he gazed intently at the ceiling. "I shall be just outside, so don't try running away," advised Quiberon, sliding into the water with a tremendous splash and in a few minutes his glittering tail had disappeared through the opening of the cave. "Well!" exclaimed Trot, clasping her hands resignedly, "I've never tried singing a dragon to sleep, but I suppose there must always be a first time. I hope he doesn't put his head in my lap, though." "He'd better not!" stormed Benny, tramping angrily up and down. "I'll dance on his talons, I'll tread on his tail and pull out his whiskers!" "Maybe there's another way out," mused the Scarecrow removing his eyes from the ceiling of the cave.