“You see that sign?” the gnome asked, head tilted at the runic writing on the wall. “It says by appointment only.”
He look up at the two, dumbfounded boys and then pushed his way between them to stare at his garden. He walked up the row and hollered over his shoulder. “I’m surprised you big galoots didn’t trample the plants.”
Shoving past them once again, he sat in the doorway. The gnome dug a match from his pocket, and worked it in his ear.
“Well, you’re here,” he said. “You must want something.”
“We found something of yours,” Owl said.