“I guess you’ll know enough to stick to goblin diet after this.” And Bob made no reply. The sun had gone down; dusky shadows were gathering from far and near and throwing themselves prone upon the desert sands. The air, that all the afternoon had been so hot, was growing chill. “I’m sleepy,” Bob remarked, dropping upon the warm earth and stretching full length. “Well, you mustn’t go to sleep there,” Fitz replied. “Why?” the boy queried. “You’ll see why when it grows a little darker. Wild beasts will be prowling around here, after food and water.” “They will?” raising himself upon his elbow and glancing apprehensively around. “Yes, indeed,” the goblin answered. “Lions?” “Yes.” “Leopards?” “Uh-huh.” “And hyenas and jackals?” The goblin nodded. “Well, where are we going to sleep, then?” “We’ll let the balloon rise to the level of the tops of these palm trees, tie it there, and sleep in the car.” “That’ll do. But I’ll bet we don’t get much sleep; the wild animals will raise such a rumpus, roaring and howling and fighting. Won’t they?” “It’s likely.” “Dear—dear! I wish I was back home.” “No, you don’t, Bob.” “I do, too. You promised to take me to Goblinland where everything was to be lovely; and you’ve got me away down here in the Sahara desert where there’s nothing but sand and wild beasts. And you’ve got me in such a fix I can’t eat a little fruit, even, without getting sick; and now I’m to have no sleep. Bah!” “That’s all that ails you, Bob.” “What?” “You’re sleepy—and cross.” “I’m not cross.” “Well—well, we won’t argue the matter.” “I’ll argue if I want to, old Epilepsy.” “Say, Bob,”—pleasantly. No reply. “Bob.” “Huh!”—ungraciously. “I think I know what we can do to send the wild animals about their business if they bother us.” “What?”—with a show of interest. “That is,” with a reflective shake of the head, “if we didn’t throw overboard, when we were about to sink in the Atlantic, the stuff we need.” “What is it, Fitz?” “Magnetic powder.” “There’s a bottle of it in the locker; I saw it there this morning. But what on earth are you going to do with it?” “I’ll tell you. I’m going to sprinkle some of it in the spring; and it’ll magnetize the water. Then any animal that comes for a drink will get a shock that will stir up its ideas—and send it flying. Won’t that be great?” “Great?” Bob cried, capering about in glee. “Yes, indeed, Fitz! And won’t it be funny to hear ’em and see ’em? I’m not a bit sleepy now. Let’s fix the spring right now.” Soon they had magnetized the spring, and had snuggled down in the car of their balloon, to spend the night. By that time it was quite dark; so they partook of a few food-tablets and drink-pellets, and then composed themselves to rest—out of reach of any beast that might come prowling around. Bob dropped into a doze. A roar like distant, muttering thunder roused him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes; then he nudged his sleeping companion.