Then they stood and silently glared at each other for a full half minute. Finally both began to look foolish, and burst out laughing. “Fitz, you’re too hot-headed, you old Epilepsy,” Bob giggled. “I know it,” tittered the goblin; “but so are you, Roberty-Boberty.” “I know it,” the boy admitted; “but I can’t stay mad at you, Fitz.” “I can’t stay mad at you, either, Bob. Now let’s stop our foolishness and go to that village, and see about the cord and feathers we need.” “All right. But how are we to get the things, Fitz? Have you any money?” “I’ve got gold; that’s just as good.” “Gold?” “Yes. Look here.” The goblin took a bag of yellow nuggets from his pocket and emptied them out and shook them before the boy’s eyes. “Is that gold?” Bob inquired, interested and not a little excited. “Yes, to be sure,” Fitz Mee answered. “Where did you get it?” “In Goblinland.” “Is there much of it there?” “Bushels of it. These nuggets are as common there as pebbles are in your country.” “Indeed!” the lad exclaimed, in wide-eyed wonder and admiration. “You goblins must be mighty rich.” “We don’t put any value upon gold,” was the complacent reply; “we never use it at home.” Bob was thoughtfully silent for some seconds. “What’re you thinking about?” his companion inquired with a shrewd and cunning smile. “Thinking how rich I can be when I go back home,” was the a frank admission. Then abruptly: “What’s that coming down the road yonder, Fitz?” [Illustration] “Hello!” the goblin ejaculated delightedly. “We won’t have to tramp to the village. That’s a gooseherd. See; he has the geese tethered together with twine and is guiding them with a crook. We’ll wait here and buy them of him.” The gooseherd and his flock drew near. He was a tall, angular young man, ragged and barefoot. His merry whistle rose above the strident quacks of his charges, and his flat feet softly spatted the dust of the highway in time to his own music. Fitz Mee stepped forward, politely lifted his cap and said in greeting: “Good morning, Sir Gooseherd.” The young man stopped in his tracks and dropped his crook and his jaw at the same time. Plainly he was startled at the sudden appearance of the little green sprite and his companion, and just as plainly he was greatly frightened. “We desire to purchase your geese,” the goblin ventured, boldly advancing. “How much gold will buy them?” The gooseherd let out a shrill yell of terror and turned and fled up the road as fast as his long legs could carry him. The geese attempted to flee also, but, being tethered together, became hopelessly and helplessly entangled and fell to the ground, a flapping, quacking mass. Bob and Fitz laughed heartily. “Hurrah!” the goblin whooped. “The geese and cord are ours, anyhow.” “But we didn’t pay the fellow,” Bob objected.