y. But he has some magic powers, and knows me well. Too well."
Mr. Wicker shook his head and his eyes became slits of rage. "We have
been enemies for long," said Mr. Wicker, "but he has yet to get the
better of me."

"Is he after the Jewel Tree too?" Chris wanted to know.

"He is. He heard of it, by power of magic certainly, for it is a
secret so well guarded that those who carry knowledge of it--all but
myself, up to this time--all others have died before they could make
use of it. You can well imagine," Mr. Wicker enlarged, turning his
gaze on Chris, "that a treasure that replenishes itself is beyond
price. The Chinese Emperor knows it well. So do the guards about his
palaces, and so does Claggett Chew."

Mr. Wicker strode about, striking the closed fist of one hand into
the palm of the other, and Chris scrambled out of his chair to stand
watching the pacing figure. And it came to Chris as he followed with
his eyes the black swinging coat, the silver-buckled black knee
breeches, the neat white stock and black-brocaded waistcoat of the
magician, it came to him that he had a great confidence and affection
for this man. Even knowing him as little as he did, having to take so
much on trust, still, in Chris's mind there was no smallest grain of
doubt, suspicion, or distrust. He knew, without having to think it
out, that Mr. Wicker was a great man, great in knowledge and in heart.
Reliable and kind and wise. In that moment Chris put his whole faith
in a man he had not known yet for a day.

[Illustration]

"There is one way," Mr. Wicker said, wheeling about and standing
still, "and that is where I need your help." He strode back across the
room towards Chris. "This villain, Claggett Chew--for that is what he
is, no better--this villain knows me and he knows my power. But if my
power were in a boy--a lad he never would suspect--then--" Mr. Wicker
put both hands on Chris's shoulders and looked searchingly at
him--"then only would we have an opportunity to seize the Jewel Tree.
Can you learn what I know?" demanded Mr. Wicker. "Can you learn my
magic?"

"_Magic?_" Chris stammered. "Those tricks--the fly--and others?"

"Yes," said Mr. Wicker quietly. "Many more."

"Well," Chris answered after a moment's thought, "I got here, didn't
I? I've gone back all these years, so I guess I could." He looked up
with a grin. "At least I can try," he said.

Mr. Wicker gave Chris's shoulder a little shake of pride and
acceptance. "G