impudent strangers,
who, in the very heart of his kingdom where thousands bowed to his
will, dared openly defy his power. So, after a moment's thought,
Terribus beckoned to a dwarf who, robed in gay and glittering apparel,
stood near his throne.

"Summon the royal Dart Slingers!" he said, with a scowl.

The little man bowed and hastened away, to return presently with twenty
curiously crooked dwarfs, each armed with a sling and a quiver full of
slender, sharp-pointed darts.

"Slay me these strangers!" exclaimed the king, in his gruffest voice.

Now Nerle, when he beheld these terrible Dart Slingers, of whom he had
heard many tales in his boyhood, began to shiver and shake with fright,
so that his teeth rattled one upon another. And he reflected: "Soon
shall I be content, for these darts will doubtless pierce every part of
my body."

The dwarfs formed a line at one side of the gloomy throne-room, and
Prince Marvel, who had been earnestly regarding them, caught Nerle by
the arm and led him to the opposite wall.

"Stand close behind me and you will be safe," he whispered to his
esquire.

Then each dwarf fixed a dart in his sling, and at a word from their
chief they all drew back their arms and launched a shower of the sharp
missiles at the strangers.

Swift and true they sped, each dart intended to pierce the body of the
youthful knight who stood so calm before them. Prince Marvel had
raised his right arm, and in his hand was a small leather sack, with a
wide mouth. As the darts flew near him a strange thing happened: they
each and all swerved from their true course and fell rattling into the
leathern sack, to the wonder of the royal slingers and the dismay of
King Terribus himself.

"Again!" screamed the king, his usually mild voice hoarse with anger.

So again the dwarfs cast their darts, and again the leathern sack
caught them every one. Another flight followed, and yet another, till
the magic sack was packed full of the darts and not a dwarf had one
remaining in his quiver.

Amid the awed silence of the beholders of this feat the merry laughter
of Prince Marvel rang loud and clear; for the sight of the puzzled and
terrified faces about him was very comical. Plucking a dart from the
sack he raised his arm and cried:

"Now it is my turn. You shall have back your darts!"

"Hold!" shouted the king, in great fear. "Do not, I beg you, slay my
faithful servants." And with a wave of his hand he dismiss