Gip tugged my finger forward. I
glanced at the counter and met the shopman's eye again. I was
beginning to think the magic just a little too genuine. "We haven't
VERY much time," I said. But somehow we were inside the show-room
before I could finish that.
"All goods of the same quality," said the shopman, rubbing his
flexible hands together, "and that is the Best. Nothing in the place
that isn't genuine Magic, and warranted thoroughly rum. Excuse me, sir!"
I felt him pull at something that clung to my coat-sleeve, and then
I saw he held a little, wriggling red demon by the tail--the little
creature bit and fought and tried to get at his hand--and in a moment
he tossed it carelessly behind a counter. No doubt the thing was
only an image of twisted indiarubber, but for the moment--! And his
gesture was exactly that of a man who handles some petty biting bit
of vermin. I glanced at Gip, but Gip was looking at a magic rocking-
horse. I was glad he hadn't seen the thing. "I say," I said, in an
undertone, and indicating Gip and the red demon with my eyes, "you
haven't many things like THAT about, have you?"
"None of ours! Probably brought it with you," said the shopman--
also in an undertone, and with a more dazzling smile than ever.
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