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. Now, there was something to do!"
The kender chorus oooed and aaahhed.
"Removing the chains didn't take long; a child could
have done it. The first lock was simple enough, too. I
tripped it open with my needle file."
As he was licking his hand clean, Phineas began get-
ting caught up in the story. He knew the tower was sup-
posed to contain a powerful, magical treasure. And
here was Gelfig, describing an invisible, three-lock box
concealed inside a pocket dimension! What better hid-
ing place could there be?
"The second lock proved a bit more difficult," the
kender continued. "It being invisible only made things
worse. I worked at it for over an hour, and finally I
heard those tumblers click.
"By now, I was getting hungry and thirsty, but there
was nothing here to eat or drink. I cut a flap of leather
from my map pouch and chewed on that so I could con-
centrate. And that last lock took every ounce of con-
centration I could muster. It seemed impervious to
needle files, invulnerable to penknives, invincible
against wires. Finally, the only tool I had left was 'old
number three,' my charmed pick. I gave it a kiss for
luck, slipped it into that lock, and gave it a twist."
The group of kender gasped in anticipation.
"Nothing happened. I twisted it left, and I twisted it
right, and I pushed it in and pulled it out, I tried it back-
ward and upside down. That lock was locked and that's
all there was to it.
"At least that's the way an ordinary kender might
have looked at it. But I'm no ordinary kender
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