"I won't," Kevan MacGreene said grimly. "I've had enough of this. I quit." "My dear boy," the voice said, "you can't quit. If you're not employed by me, there is no way back here, and without the badge of my office you might find it rather difficult to get along where you are." Kevan was silent in the grip of frustration. "Besides," the voice continued sternly, "don't forget that you're a MacGreene. Once removed from the County Ulster 'tis true, but still a MacGreene. Quitting is not for the likes of you." It was, moreover, the only argument to sway Kevan MacGreene. "Okay," he said wearily, "where do I find this Yggdrasil?" "Just go due Southeast by Northwest and you can't miss it." The voice sounded pleased with itself. "And what is Yggdrasil?" Kevan asked. "The world tree--and that's why you can't miss it. You'll see it miles before you reach it. How much time did Alviss give you?" "Until tomorrow morning." There was a thin whistle in the air. "That isn't much time. I guess you'll be needing some assistance. Don't move for the next minute, my lad." There seemed to be a crackling in the air around Kevan's head and then beside him stood a new jeep. It was painted a pleasant emerald green--which reminded Kevan of Kathleen Culanna's eyes--and lettered on the side were the words _TROUBLESHOOTERS, INC.--OUR SPELLS, CURSES AND KNELLS ARE GUARANTEED_. "What's the slogan for?" Kevan asked. "Oh," said the voice of Brian Shanachie, "that jeep was built to be used only in the land of the Little People and it doesn't hurt to advertise, you know. After all, we do work for both sides in making our adjustments. It helps to build confidence if they know that we guarantee to handle any matter up here which threatens them. But it's getting late. Perhaps you'd better run along. Oh, yes, there is one more thing. That is a new jeep and I didn't have time to install a spell-bumper. Some of the more provincial gnomes are not yet accustomed to our jeeps and may try to throw a spell at you. So if you notice one apparently weaving something in the air, I'd suggest that you dodge as quickly as possible. Good-by--and don't hesitate to call on me if you need anything." There was dismissal in the voice, so Kevan MacGreene stepped gingerly into the jeep. It turned out, however, to be quite solid, so he sat down with growing confidence. The first thing that caught his eye was the compass just over the steering wheel. If anyone had told Kevan that a compass could manage to point Southeast by Northwest, he wouldn't have believed him--but this one did. * * * * * He stepped on the starter and the motor of the jeep caught with a full-throated roar which was the most comforting thing that had happened to Kevan since he'd left Brian Shanachie's office. He put it in gear and let out the clutch. The jeep leaped forward eagerly.