26

That morning, the morning of the second part of the Festival of the Sea Dragon, Mr. Tiger stood at the window of the café. Septimus had asked him to keep an eye on the baby sea dragon, and Mr. Tiger had noted that the creature had grown considerably in the night. He was now the size of a small rabbit. Or, perhaps, a large rabbit.

Tigers often ponder, and Mr. Tiger was pondering how to save Floss Grimm. He took out his pocket watch and gazed at the pictures there. On the face appeared a picture of an egg with legs and two hands sticking out of the sides. On top of the egg sat a pirate’s hat.

Grrr, thought Mr. Tiger. How grrr-interesting.

He heard a thud, which could only mean one thing: Betsy had landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs.

“Good morning, my sprightly one,” said Mr. Tiger.

“Crumble cakes,” said Betsy, seeing the sea dragon. “He’s grown.”

“That’s what sea dragons do,” said Mr. Tiger, gently scratching the little sea dragon’s head with his claw. He looked again at his pocket watch. Now it showed what appeared to be half a dozen eggs sitting in an egg box. And then he realized it was a rowing boat, and that was followed by another rowing boat, this one carrying half a dozen sea dragons.

“Betsy, would you be so kind as to bring the mayor to me—he’s at the harbormaster’s house, advising on the bunting.”

Betsy was happy to do as he asked.

The mayor was wearing a heavy chain of office around his neck and shoes that were far too small for his feet. They were the only shiny shoes he possessed, but he had read that the mayor should always wear shiny shoes for the second part of the Festival of the Sea Dragon. Even if the shiny shoes happen to be too small.

He entered the café with pinched toes, a pinched look on his face, and Princess Albee on his arm. She was wearing a crown that suited her just as a crown should.

“Grand,” said Mr. Tiger. “Now, Mr. Mayor,” he said. “I believe there is to be a surprise carnival today.”

“Yes,” said the mayor. “Some of the children have made sea dragon costumes.”

“Are there any sea dragon’s eggs among them?” asked Mr. Tiger.

“Yes, indeed. It’s a surprise for the Pap-a-naggy. Such a relief that the Nog-a-naggy has turned up—and the egg timer. Now I won’t have to resign.”

The mayor was about to take the weight off his feet when Mr. Tiger said, “I would like you to gather the islanders by the bandstand.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. If you please.”

The mayor hobbled away.

Mr. Tiger invited the Gongalong acrobats to join him in the café. They took off their pointy hats and huddled round so they wouldn’t miss a word he had to say. When the ringmaster had finished, the acrobats went away and shortly returned with ladders, a large fisherman’s net, a ball of string, and a lot of bunting.

“You have a plan, Mr. Tiger,” said Betsy and Princess Albee together. “We knew you would have a plan.”