An extensive hall lined with alabaster was before them.  In the floor were five of the round holes.  Upon the walls were engraved many interesting scenes of ocean life, all chiseled very artistically by the tusks of walruses who, Trot was afterward informed, are greatly skilled in such work.  A few handsome rugs of woven sea grasses were spread upon the floor, but otherwise the vast hall was bare of furniture.  The doll-faced fishes escorted them to an upper room where a table was set, and here the revelers were invited to refresh themselves.  As all four were exceedingly hungry, they welcomed the repast, which was served by an army of lobsters in royal purple aprons and caps.

The meal being finished, they again descended to the hall, which seemed to occupy all the middle of the building.  And now their conductors said, “His Majesty is ready to receive you in his den.”

They swam downward through one of the round holes in the floor and found themselves in a brilliantly lighted chamber which appeared bigger than all the rest of the palace put together.  In the center was the quaint head of King Anko, and around it was spread a great coverlet of purple and gold woven together.  This concealed all of his body and stretched from wall to wall of the circular room.  “Welcome, friends!” said Anko pleasantly.  “How do you like my home?”

“It’s very grand,” replied Trot.

“Just the place for a sea serpent, seems to me,” said Cap’n Bill.

“I’m glad you admire it,” said the King.  “Perhaps I ought to tell you that from this day you four belong to me.”

“How’s that?” asked the girl, surprised.

“It is a law of the ocean,” declared Anko, “that whoever saves any living creature from violent death owns that creature forever afterward, while life lasts.  You will realize how just this law is when you remember that had I not saved you from Zog, you would now be dead.  The law was suggested by Captain Kid Glove, when he once visited me.”

“Do you mean Captain Kidd?” asked Trot.  “Because if you do—­”

“Give him his full name,” said Anko.  “Captain Kid Glove was—­”

“There’s no glove to it,” protested Trot.  “I ought to know, ’cause I’ve read about him.”

“Didn’t it say anything about a glove?” asked Anko.

“Nothing at all.  It jus’ called him Cap’n Kidd,” replied Trot.

“She’s right, ol’ man,” added Cap’n Bill.

“Books,” said the Sea Serpent, “are good enough as far as they go, but it seems to me your earth books don’t go far enough.  Captain Kid Glove was a gentleman pirate, a kid-glove pirate.  To leave off the glove and call him just Kidd is very disrespectful.”

“Oh!  You told me to remind you of that third pain,” said the little girl.

“Which proves my friendship for you,” returned the Sea Serpent, blinking his blue eyes thoughtfully.  “No one likes to be reminded of a pain, and that third pain was—­was—­”