rs 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 r