As soon as school was over on Thursday afternoon, Harold started once more on his errand to the War-Lord. As usual, he was accompanied to the city gate by a crowd of schoolboys and girls who envied him his luck and wished that they could go all the way with him. But this, naturally, the City Fathers would not permit. One boy carried Harold's coat, and another his strap of schoolbooks. A third brought the basket with Harold's luncheon, while Robert carried the flag of truce,--proud boy! But Richard, Harold's special chum, was the proudest of all. For he was trusted with the precious volume from the library containing the story of the King's Pie, which Harold was to read to the War-Lord on that day. All gave a great cheer when the gate was unbarred; and all the little girls waved their handkerchiefs when with a gay shake of his hand Harold stepped out into the danger zone.

Red Rex received him as usual, sitting upon the green hillock. Harold noticed straightway that the War-Lord's hand was bound up with a bandage, and that he had a cut over his left eye, which made him look fiercer than ever.

"But I thought there was a truce!" exclaimed Harold, gazing at these tokens of trouble. "How came you to be thus hurt, Your Majesty?"

"Nay; it was an accident," said the Red King gruffly. "Say no more about it, pray. Well! I have no time to waste to-day. Things are coming to an issue. Let me hear your story as quickly as possible,--if you have brought one, as I think."

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Harold. "I have brought you the spicy story of the King's Pie, which I think you will like. I had meant, in order to illustrate the story, to bring you also one of the veritable pies. But that, alas! I am now unable to do. My mother made a pie especially for this purpose; but it is gone with others which were to be mine, and for which I grieve on my own account. A wicked thief stole them all during last night. So I fear you will not appreciate the story so well as otherwise you might have done."

"Perhaps I shall," said the War-Lord whimsically. "Perhaps I shall appreciate it all the more."

"Now, what means Your Majesty by that?" cried Harold, wondering very much at these strange words. "It was such a fine pie! A large, fat, juicy, rich, crisp, crusty pie,--just such a one as the King enjoyed in the story."

"Yes, I know!" said Red Rex. "Go on with the story, right speedily, with no more details of that tantalizing, vanished pie!" And he licked his lips and shifted his seat as he sat upon his hillock.

Obediently Harold opened the book which his chum Richard had handed to him just inside the city gate, and began to read the toothsome tale of The King's Pie.