THE Pixie dropped in as usual after supper, and tried to act as if nothing had happened; “but he can’t get away with that,” said Wendell to himself.

“Hello, old sport,” said the Pixie in an offhand way. “How are the fractions?”

“Oh, they’re all there,” returned Wendell, “but, I say, what do you mean by sneaking off and leaving me this afternoon? I’d like to know that.”

“I didn’t sneak,” said the Pixie indignantly. “I mentioned that I was going. I never sneak.”

“I’d like to know what you call it then. You didn’t wait for me, did you?”

“Oh!” said the Pixie. “Why, I’m awfully sorry, old chap. I thought you weren’t ready to come home when I left.”

“Why didn’t you wait till I was, then?”

“Why, that would have seemed so like hurrying you,” explained the Pixie, gently. “No one can do a{78} really artistic job with that being-waited-for feeling. By the way, did you make any headway? Get any line on the cloak?”

“Yes, I got it all right,” said Wendell. “But you might have waited to see.”

“I hope I didn’t seem rude,” said the Pixie, penitently. “Really, to be frank, I never did take much interest in the second-hand clothing trade; and perhaps I made it too evident that I was a bit bored. I’ll wait for you next time.”

“You can take it from me there won’t be any next time,” returned Wendell in a rude voice that was a sad contrast to the Pixie’s gentlemanly manner. “I’m going alone to-morrow. I guess the Cloak of Darkness will be worth several dozens of your old transformations. So there!”

“I am sure you will regret this hasty expression of feeling when you take time to think it over, my dear young friend,” said the Pixie, gravely yet kindly. “I think I would better leave you until you come to your better self.”

He instantly vanished from sight.

A few minutes later he put his head in at the door and said in a forgiving tone, “There are your fractions,” and shut the door again.

Wendell felt much aggrieved. He knew that the Pixie had treated him badly, and was now trying to make it appear that he was at fault, and he resolved that he would really go all alone for the Cap of Thought and rely entirely upon the Cloak of Darkness for his success. So after school the next day, he rolled the Cloak of Darkness under his arm, made{79} sure that he had enough money for carfare in his pockets this time, and took the car at Park Street for Brookline.

After he got off the car, Wendell adjusted the Cloak of Darkness, and walked on with entire assurance and a high spirit of adventure to the Giant’s house.

He went up the neat brick steps and tried the front door with great caution. But it did not yield. Then he went around to the back door, and that was much better, for the door was open, and he walked straight in and found the Cruel Stepmother and the Ugly Stepsister getting dinner in the kitchen.

“These grapes aren’t very good, Mummer,” remarked the young lady, “not nearly so good as the ones last week.”

“Naturally,” returned the witch, somewhat grimly. “I had to pay for these.”

“Oh, of course,” said her daughter. “You didn’t have your Cloak of Darkness when you went marketing to-day.”

“And the High Cost of Living is something awful when the market-man can see you every minute, and you can’t take a thing without paying for it,” complained her mother. “If I don’t find that Cloak soon, I just hope the government will get after those dishonest profiteers.”

“Mummer............