"Well, you've done it now," said one of them, tauntingly.

"What do you mean?" inquired Dick.

"Why, we've got the paper, and you can't grow any bigger until we allow
you to."

"What a mean trick!" cried Dick, in disgust.

"Well, we don't think it at all fair," said the gnomes, "that you should
be able to grow any size that you want to, while we have to keep little,
so we are going to keep you here for a little while, and teach you to
believe in fairies, do you see?"

"But we've got to find the Dodo in a week," expostulated Dick, "and if
you keep us here, however are we to do that?"

"Oh, please give us the paper back," begged Marjorie. "I'm sure the
Pater will be so vexed if we never grow any bigger than this any more."
And she began to cry a little.

You see, such a lot of very unusual things had happened that she was a
little excited and nervous.

"Well, we'll think about it," said the gnomes, running away and hiding
among the rocks.

"Don't cry, Marjorie," said Dick, bravely, though he too felt a little
anxious himself; for, you see, eleven inches is not very tall for any
one to be, and he didn't care to admit what would happen if he went back
to school in his present state.

"Chappel Minor has always been cheeky," he thought, "and so have Martin
and Foster, and if I keep this size they will think they can do just as
they like with me, and probably will turn me out of the cricket eleven,
while that little wretch of a Castleton is sure to sneak all my
pencils--he does now when he gets a chance." However, he kept these
doleful thoughts to himself, and devoted himself to the task of
consoling his sister and Fidge, and had soon talked them into such a
cheerful frame of mind, that they really began to think that it was
rather an advantage than otherwise to have lost the paper.

"For one thing, we shall not have to hunt for that old Dodo,"
argued Dick, "because even the Grand Panjandrum himself, whoever
he may be, could not expect us to go far away while we remain as
little as this, and so we are not in such great danger of
being--er--er--thingummybobbed--you know--what the Ambassador said we
should be, if we didn't find the wretched thing."

"Supposing we try and find the Ambassador," suggested Marjorie. "I don't
think he was really very cross, only a little abrupt, you know; and we
could explain everything to him, and perhaps he would give us a new
paper."

"All right," said Dick, leading the way. "