"Nothing," groaned the Knight-mare, "nothing at all. At least not till
I can find a way to get rid of this ugly head of mine. If there was
anybody big enough and brave enough, now, to--" He interrupted his
speech to stoop down and snatch up something from the grass. It was
Rudolf's sword which he had dropped from his hand in his weariness
after his battle with the Fidgets. "What's this?" the Knight-mare
cried. "Hurrah, a sword!"

"My sword," said Rudolf, stretching out his hand for it.

"Just the thing for cutting heads off!" cried the Knight. "Will you
lend it to me, like a good fellow? Mine is lost."

"What for?" asked Rudolf suspiciously.

"Why, to cut my head off with, of course, or better yet, perhaps
you'll do it for me. Come, now! Just to oblige me?"

Rudolf took back his sword, while Ann gave a little scream and seized
both the Knight's mailed hands in hers. "I'm sorry not to oblige you,"
said Rudolf firmly, "but I can't do anything of the sort. I never cut
anybody's head off in my life, and the sword's not so awful sharp,
you know, and then how can you tell a new head will grow at your time
of life?"

"Oh, I'd risk that," said the Knight-mare lightly. "I do wish you'd
think it over. If you knew what a life mine is! All my days spent
browsing round on shoots here in the wood, without a single adventure
because nobody's willing to be rescued by the likes of me! And then