I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts —

“You know, Eric, you’d probably get along better if you dropped some of those jewels,” Shelia remarked.

The Cavalier had tied his cape in front of him, napkin-wise, and was staggering under the weight of six or eight bowling-ball-sized gemstones, while he had crammed the spaces in between with sparkling brilliants until he looked like a Fabergé Golem. Even as he tottered, he kept scooping up handfuls of jewels to heap onto the glittering pyramid in his arms.

“Are you nuts?” he shot back. “Look, we know that they don’t take American money in this stupid world — but they’ve gotta have some kind of currency, right? Well, you’re lookin’ at it.” He fondled his precious burden, his eyes lit from below with a varicolored flame as the gleam of Hank’s energy arrow was filtered through the depths of a green emerald or the profound blue of a sapphire. “Every single one of these is about a million Porterhouse steaks, a million ice cream sundaes — ”

“ — and one big Wiener,” finished Diana.

“Ho, ho, ho. Well, if you feel that way about it, you don’t have to eat my—”

“That’s okay, Eric,” Presto interrupted, hurriedly, “You can keep your jewels for yourself — I mean —”

“Hey, look!” Bobby exploded, pointing through a great Gothic portal formed by the arching cave-wall.

“Mwowww!” bleated Uni.

Just beyond a stony cliff ledge that formed the threshold of the cave entrance, A vaulted chamber lay spread out like a stage tableau before them; to the left, a stair was cunningly carven into the black basaltic rock of the mountain, while before and below them stood a gigantic graven idol of sard and carnelian, richly ornamented in gold, bull-headed, goggle-eyed, with gleaming horns and arms stretching forth clutching claws. Innumerable golden columns stood round it, surmounted by monstrous jewels; from many of these a lurid scarlet light pulsed throughout the lofty chamber, like the blinking lights on Beelzebub’s Christmas tree, and a low, throbbing drumming filled the chamber, though the drummers appeared invisible. A circular dais or altar of bloodstone rose in steps before the grim idol, ringed by seven of the golden pillars, around which were piles of bejeweled weapons, and massy golden ornaments, and hoarded gems that made the jewels Eric carried look like so many peanuts. Shelled peanuts.

Crawling over the heaped treasures like huge, obscene crickets were swarms of the hideous vilstraks, while by each of the available exits stood the ramrod figures of the flind. They were trapped.

“It won’t take long for those flind in the cave above us to figure out where we went off to,” remarked Hank, grimly, “and then they’ll head down the tunnel, probably in a group—so there is no way we can slip through.”

“Yeah? Well, there’s also no way we can stay here,” whispered the Cavalier fiercely, “just waiting for ’em to come marching down and bag us, and my diamonds, and sapphires, and rubies, either.”

“Keep your emeralds on, Eric. We’ll just have to figure a way to get past those guards and head up one of those tunnels.”

“Yeah, but how are we supposed to get by those guys?”

“Myeahee, myowwww?”

“Maybe I could use my cloak… though what I would do then, I don’t know. I don’t suppose the old ‘throw-the-pebble-past-the-bad-guy’s-shoulder’ trick would work on guys who live on piles of loose gems, would it?”

Hank grinned, ruefully. “’Fraid not, Sheila. Besides, there are too many of them — two or three could check out the noise, and still leave two behind to guard the exit. We need something bigger…”

“Hey, maybe my hat can help out.”

“Presto, that hat couldn’t help if you hooked Spiderman, the U.S. Marines, a troop of Boy Scouts, and all the King’s horses and all the King’s men on to it.”

“Aw, c’mon, Eric — just gimme a chance.” He whipped the hat off, and chanted:

“Hat, we’re trapped between bears and bugs —

Help us waltz right past those ugly thugs.”

There was a minor ka-boom, and the Magician drew forth a gleaming spar of shining metal…

“Niiiiiiiiice work, Presto. A kazoo — just what we needed.”

“Hey, look out!”

From the shadows behind him the dour forms of the flind emerged silently, like panther ninjas; their leader laid a heavy paw on Presto’s shoulder.

“Oh! Ah! Geez! Here, Happy Birthday!” yammered the young wizard, thrusting the instrument into the muzzle of the flind leader. A yowl burst from the others, and the chamber below exploded into activity, like nest of ground-dwelling wasps surging out when some unhappy sap has trodden on it.

“And here come his buddies, to blow out the candles!”