It was just at the end of the school term, and I had received a letter from my young cousin Lionel, who was at Marlborough, reminding me of my promise that he should spend a part at least of his holidays with me.

"Mind you're at the station in time," he had said; "and, I say! please don't call me Lionel if there are any of our fellows about, it sounds so kiddish. Just call me Sutcliffe, and I'll call you sir—as you're so old—like we do the masters. Oh yes! and there's something I want you to buy for me, very particularly—it's for my study. I've got a study this term, and I share it with a fellow named Gammage. He's an awfully good egg!"

"What extraordinary language schoolboys do manage to get hold of," I thought as I re-read the letter while bowling along in the cab on my way to the station, which, a very few minutes later, came in sight, the platform being crowded with parents, relatives and friends waiting to meet the train by which so many Marlburians were travelling.

There was a shriek from an engine, and a rattle and clatter outside the station, as the train, every window filled with boys' excited faces, came dashing up to the platform.

"There's my people!" "There's Tom!" "Hi! hi! Here I am!" "There's the pater with the trap!" "Hooray!" To the accompaniment of a babel of cries like these, and amidst an excited scramble of half-wild school-boys, I at last discovered my small cousin.

"There he is!" he said, pointing me out to a young friend who was with him; and coming up he hurriedly offered his hand.

"How are you, Sutcliffe?" I asked, remembering his letter.

"All right, thanks," he replied. "This is Gammage. I wanted to show you to him. He wouldn't believe I had a cousin as old as you are. See, Gammage?"

Gammage looked at me and nodded. "'Bye, Sutcliffe; good-bye, sir," said he, raising his hat to me and hurrying off to his "people."

"I say! don't forget the rug, Sutcliffe!" he bawled over his shoulder before finally disappearing.

"Oh no! I say, sir! That's what I want to ask you about," said Sutcliffe, scrambling into the taxi, and settling himself down with a little nod of satisfaction.

"What?" I inquired, as we bowled out of the station.

"Why, a rug for my—our—study," said the boy. "Gammage has bought no end of things to make our room comfortable, and they've sent me up some pictures and chairs and things from home—and—it would be awfully decent of you if you'd buy me a rug to put in front of the fire-place. It's rather cheek to ask, but you generally give me something when I come over to see you, and I arranged with Gammage to say I'd rather have that than anything. What sort of a shop do you get rugs at? Couldn't we get it on our way now, and then it would be done with? I might forget to ask you about it later on."

"What sort of a rug do you want?" I asked, as the taxi turned into Tottenham Court Road.

"Oh, I don't know, sir. Any sort of an ordinary kind of rug will do. There's some in that window; one of those would do."

I stopped the taxi and we got out. The window was filled with Oriental rugs and carpets, and a card in their midst stated that they were "a recent consignment of genuine old goods direct from Arabia.""Oh, they're too expensive, I expect," I remarked, as we stood amongst a small crowd of people in front of the window, "those Oriental rugs are generally so—"

But Sutcliffe suddenly nudged my arm, and, with an amused twinkle in his eye, called my attention to a remarkable little figure standing beside him, dressed in an extraordinary yellow costume, and wearing a turban.

"Why! bless me! It's Shin Shira!" I exclaimed. "I hadn't noticed you before."

"No," said the Yellow Dwarf, "I've only just appeared. How very strange meeting you here!"

I told him what we were doing, and introduced my young cousin, who was greatly interested and somewhat awe-struck at the extraordinary little personage in the Oriental costume, whose remarkable appearance was causing quite a sensation amongst the bystanders.

"Oh, these rugs," he said, looking at them casually. "No, I don't fancy they are much good for your purpose, they seem to be too—hullo!" he suddenly cried excitedly, "what's that? Good gracious! I really believe it's—Why, yes! I'm sure of it! I recognise it quite well by the pattern. There's not another in the world like it. How could it possibly have got here?""What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Why, this carpet," cried Shin Shira, pointing excitedly to a very quaint-looking Oriental rug in the corner of the window. "It's the Magic Carpet which everybody has read about in the Arabian Nights. It enables anybody in whose possession it is to travel anywhere they wish—surely you must have heard about it."

"No!" cried Lionel, his eyes sparkling with eagerness, "not really? Oh, sir! Do—do please buy it—it will be simply ripping! Do! do! Why, it will be better than an aeroplane."

I had never in my life before seen my cousin so excited about anything.

"I should certainly advise you to purchase it," whispered Shin Shira. "It is a very valuable rug, and no doubt you would find it very useful in many ways."

I must confess to a considerable amount of curiosity myself as we entered the shop and asked to be shown the carpet which Shin Shira declared to be endued with such remarkable properties.

It was a very handsome one, and the shopkeeper showed it to us with a considerable amount of pride.

"It's a genuine article, sir," he told me. "Came over only last week from Arabia in a special parcel purchased by our agent in Baghdad—I believe it's very old. These foreigners know how to make things which will last."

I inquired the price, and hesitated considerably when I found that it was far in excess of the amount I had intended to pay for a rug.

However, Lionel seemed so very eager, and Shin Shira assured me so positively that it was really a bargain, that, with a sigh at what I feared was a great piece of extravagance on my part, I took out my purse and paid for it. "To where shall I send it?" inquired the shopkeeper.

"Let's ride home on it and save the cab fare," whispered Shin Shira, pulling me down to his level by my sleeve.

"Good gracious!" I exclaimed.

"Why not? It will be the quickest way home, and certainly the least expensive," persuaded the little Yellow Dwarf.

"But—but—" I protested.

Shin Shira had already spread the carpet on the ground, and pulling Lionel on to it, beckoned me to follow.

Half mechanically I obeyed his instructions, and had no sooner sat down on it, cross-legged, as I saw that Shin Shira and Lionel were doing, than the little Yellow Dwarf cried out something in a language which I supposed to be

Arabic—and immediately we began to rise into the air.

I shall never forget the expression of dismay on the countenance of the shopkeeper and his assistants, when they saw us slowly floating in the air towards the door.

"Open it! open it, somebody!" shouted Shin Shira, and a bewildered-looking customer who had just entered instinctively pulled the handle. Before we knew where we were, we found ourselves out in the open air with a shouting, gesticulating, excited crowd watching us as we rose higher and higher, and floated away over the roofs of the houses.

The sensation, I must admit, was a pleasant one, and, despite a slight feeling of nervousness (which, however, young Sutcliffe did not appear to share), I quite enjoyed the journey to my flat.

There were, fortunately, but very few people about, and we arrived at the door without attracting much attention.

One nervous old lady, at whose feet we descended somewhat suddenly, did threaten to call the police—saying rather angrily that "What with motor-cars and such-like," she "didn't know what we were a-coming to, and it wasn't safe for a respectable lady to walk about the streets, what with one thing and another."I managed, however, to soothe her ruffled feelings, and, rolling the rug up carefully, we went up to the flat. I threw myself into a chair in the study, thoroughly tired out and not a little bewildered by the strange events of the morning.

Lionel, however, was full of excitement, and eager to be off again for a ride on the marvellous Magic Carpet.

"I say! you know! but it's the rippingest thing I've ever heard of. Why, we'll be able to go anywhere. Just think what an awful lot we'll save in railway fares and cabs and those sort of things. I suppose anybody can use it?" he inquired, turning to Shin Shira.

"Oh yes, of course," declared the little Yellow Dwarf, "so long as you say, out loud, where you want to go to."

"Oh! Do let's go out again—just for a little while," pleaded Lionel. "Can't we go to Gammage's? He lives over at Wimbledon. It's quite easy to get to, and it won't take long. We could be back to lunch, and I should so like him to see the Magic Carpet. Do come, sir."

"No," I replied, shaking my head, "I'm too tired. You two can go if you like, only be back in an hour and a half."

"Oh, jolly!" cried Lionel. "Come on, please—let's start at once."And he picked up the carpet under his arm.

"I think it would attract less attention if, instead of starting from the pavement, we went out of the window," said Shin Shira. "What do you say?"

"By all means," I replied, "if you think best," for you see, having ridden on it myself, I felt perfectly safe in trusting my young cousin on the Magic Carpet, and I felt sure that Shin Shira would not let him come to any harm.

So we opened the window, and a minute later the two were gaily floating away out of sight, both energetically waving their pocket-handkerchiefs until they disappeared.

I could tell by the noise in the street that their strange method of conveyance was attracting considerable attention; but as I felt thankful to note, no one seemed to connect their appearance with my rooms.

The next hour or so passed quickly enough, and I did not begin to get in the least anxious till I heard the clock strike two, and then I suddenly realised that they were over half-an-hour late.

"Oh, they're all right," I consoled myself with thinking. "I expect Gammage is so interested in the wonderful carpet that they can't get away."When three hours had passed, however, and there was no sign of their return, I began to get seriously alarmed.

"What can have happened?" I thought, and, to add to my discomfiture, a telegram arrived from Lionel's parents inquiring if he had arrived in London safely from Marlborough.

I was able to reply, truthfully, that he had arrived safely, but, as hour after hour passed by without any trace of either Shin Shira or the boy, I became more and more disturbed.

At last I could stand it no longer, but putting on my hat, I hurried off to the nearest Police Station.

"H'm! What do you say, sir?" said the Police Inspector whom I found there, seated before a large open book, when in a broken voice I had hurriedly explained that I feared that my young cousin was lost. "Went off in company with a foreign-looking gent—Just describe him to me, please, as near as you can."

I described Shin Shira's appearance as accurately as I could, and the Police Inspector looked up hurriedly and gave me a searching glance.

"Do you mean to say the gent was going about the streets dressed like that?" he asked, when I had told him about Shin Shira's yellow costume and turban."Yes," I replied in some confusion, "he is a foreigner, you know, and—"

"Where does he come from?"

"From Japan, I think, or China, or—"

"What's his name?"

"Shin Shira Scaramanga Manousa Yama Hama is his full name, but—"

The Police Inspector laid down his pen and stared again at me.

"It's a curious name," said he; "I'll get you to write it down for me. I don't think I should be surprised at anything happening to anyone with a name like that. Where do you say they were going?"

"Well," I explained, "they set out to go to Wimbledon to see a—"

"Wimbledon? Let's see, from Kensington they'd go by train I suppose, from High Street Station, and change at—"

"No, no," I interrupted, "they didn't go by train at all, they—" and here I paused, for I suddenly reflected how exceedingly unlikely the Inspector would be to believe me if I told him exactly how they set out for Wimbledon. "You see," I began by way of explanation, "I bought a rug this morning that—"

"Excuse me, sir," said the Inspector somewhat impatiently, "would you mind keeping to the subject. How did Mr. Shin—er—the foreigner I mean, and your cousin go to Wimbledon? If they didn't go by train, did they drive or go by motor, or what?"

"Well, I was trying to tell you. You see, I bought a rug this morning, that—"

"I don't want to hear about your rug, sir," said the Inspector quite angrily. "If you wish us to try and find the young gentleman you must answer my questions properly. How did he set out to go to Wimbledon? Come, come! Let's begin at the beginning. Which way did they turn when they left your door?"

"You see, they didn't exactly leave by the door," I began.

"How did they go then, out of the window?" asked the Inspector in a somewhat sarcastic voice.

"Yes," I replied, "that's just how they did go."

The Inspector looked bewildered.

"Look here, sir," he said at last, "you told me when you gave me your name and address that you lived in a flat at Kensington on the second floor, and now you tell me that your cousin and a foreign gentleman with an outlandish name and dressed like a Guy Fawkes, left your house by the window. Really!""So they did," I explained; "you see, I bought a rug this morning that——"

"Bother the rug, sir!" shouted the Inspector, angrily throwing down his pen.

"If you won't listen to what I have to say," I said with some amount of dignity, "how can I possibly tell you what I know? I am endeavouring to explain that my cousin and the gentleman left in a very remarkable manner by means of a Magic Carpet, which——"

"Excuse me, sir," said the Inspector, getting up from his seat and showing me the door, "it strikes me that it's a lunatic asylum you want and not a Police Station. I haven't any time to waste with people who come here with stories like that. Good-evening!" And he shut the door, leaving me outside on the step.

I went to several other stations, and finally to Scotland Yard, but I could get no one to believe my extraordinary story; and at last I went to bed quite bewildered and in a terribly anxious frame of mind, leaving the lights burning and the windows wide open in case the wanderers returned during the night.

The next day, not hearing any news, I was obliged to telegraph for Lionel's father and mother; and I had a terrible scene with them, for they reproached me over and over again for letting their son venture out upon the Magic Carpet.

"You must have known," said my aunt tearfully, "that it was dangerous to trust to such heathenish and out-of-date methods of travelling, and now the poor dear boy is probably transformed or bewitched, or done something terrible to by this wretched Yellow Dwarf friend of yours, with the awful name. It's really disgraceful of you to have let him go at all!"

And so, amid the most bitter reproaches, although I left no stone unturned in my hopeless search for Lionel and Shin Shira, several days flew by, till one morning I nearly leaped from my chair in surprise and delight, at seeing the following report in the paper—

"Extraordinary Rescue at Sea

"By Marconigram comes a message from mid-ocean that two days ago the S.S. Ruby, from Liverpool to New York, picked up at sea, under extraordinary circumstances, an English school-boy who states that he was travelling by means of a Magic Carpet, which he was unable to manage. He was found to be in a state of complete exhaustion, but has since recovered, and appears to be a lively, intelligent lad. He will be landed at New York."