The Wishing Horse Of Oz – Oz 29

 L. Frank Baum

  

  

  

  

  

  

 BY RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON

 Reilly & Lee edition, copyright 1935

  

 CHAPTER 1

 THE KING OF SKAMPAVIA

 "Is this all?" The King of Skampavia frowned at the great stack of bags,

  bales, crates and carriers heaped around his throne. Leaning forward, he

  gingerly extracted a fig from one of the baskets and popped it into his

  enormous mouth. "Pah, dry as a blotter," spluttered the red-faced ruler,

  gritting his teeth with disgust, "and look at those cocoanuts, no bigger

  round than a baby's rattle!" Leaping off his throne, he began kicking at

  the baskets of vegetables and bales of cotton and other merchandise. "What

  dusty junk is this?" he raged, glaring furiously at Pinny Penny, his

  patient Prime Minister. "How dare they send me such stuff?" Clasping and

  unclasping his hands nervously, Pinny Penny nevertheless spoke up boldly.

 "Because they have nothing better, your Majesty. What can our poor subjects

  do with land so unprofitable and barren? Then, not only must they produce

  enough for their own needs, but are required by the law to give one-third

  of all they raise to the crown."

 "And why not?" blustered Skamperoo, settling back argumentatively on his

  throne. "I am the KING! You can't get around that, you know."

 "No," sighed Pinny Penny, and drawing aside one of the shabby curtains, he

  looked sorrowfully out into the courtyard.

 "What's all that racket?" demanded his Master as a medley of shouts, roars,

  and dull thuds came rolling up to them. Forgetting his anger for a moment,

  he bounded to his feet and came across the room to look over Pinny Penny's

  shoulder.

 "A slight argument seems to have arisen among the Supervisors," murmured

  Pinny Penny resignedly.

 Now Skampavia, I must tell you, is roughly divided into seven counties, and

  over eachcountySkamperoohad set a Supervisor whose duty it was to govern

  the province and to turn over to him one-third of all produce and

  merchandise in that county. To save time and easily identify them, the

  supervisors were known by the size of the counties they governed. For

  instance, the Supervisor of theFirstCounty, which was one mile wide and

  ten miles long, was called Onebyten; the Supervisor of theSecondCounty

  Twobyfour; and the others were variously known as Threebysix, Ninebyfive,

  Eightby-eight, Fivebynine, and Fourbyseven. Twice a year the Supervisors

  rode into the capital with their tribute, and now, down in the courtyard,

  the seven tremendous Skampavians were in a perfect pitched battle, helped

  out by all the guards and palace servants.

 "Argument!" roared the King, slapping Pinny Penny rudely on the shoulder.

  "It's a fight, and you know it! Ho, ho! Just look at the good-for-nothing

  rascals. I tell you, old Two Pins, however poorly they serve us as farmers

  and merchants, our Skampavians can certainly fight. And who says I'm too

  hard on them? Have I not given every man Jack a dress uniform and gun and

  made them learn military drilling and marching at theRoyalCollege?"

 "And what use is all this drilling and marching?" inquired Pinny Penny

  wearily. Letting the curtain fall, he hurried away, for well he knew, if he

  did not put a stop to the conflict in the courtyard, every window in the

  palace would be broken.

 "Now what did he mean by that?" muttered Skamperoo peevishly as his little

  Prime Minister whisked out of sight. Pursing his lips, he seated himself

  heavily on his throne. After all, Pinny Penny had only spoken the truth.

  Why had his father or his father's father ever picked out this pesky little

  country in the first place? Located in the southern part of the desert of

  Noland, between the Kingdoms of Ix and Merryland, Skampavia, he was forced

  to admit, had neither riches, beauty, nor interest. His castle, though poor

  and shabby, was comfortable enough, and having lived in it all his life, he

  was used to it. He had put up with the hot, dry climate and the poor

  quality of the food, but after all, why should he continue to do so? In

  those long-ago days in the schoolroom he had studied of energetic rulers

  who had taken their armies and gone forth to conquer richer and more

  desirable lands from their neighbors. Well, then, why should not he take

  his men, push over the border into a more fertile and kindly land? The idea

  pleased but at the same time annoyed him. Skamperoo was fat and lazy. He

  loved quiet and ease, and the thought of a hard military campaign made him

  shudder with distaste. Still, he reflected, remembering Pinny Penny's

  reproachful face, a King should do something for his subjects, and the more

  he did for them Ho, ho! the more he could make them do for him. A

  rich and prosperous country meant a rich and prosperous ruler.

  Discontentedly fingering the rough cloth from which his royal robes were

  fashioned, he began to picture himself decked out in splendid satins and

  velvets heavily encrusted with jewels. Jewels. Pah! All the jewels he had

  were his plain gold scepter, badly dented and bent from hurling at Pinny

  Penny. Taking off the crown, he scowled at it critically and began

  considering the realms on either side of his own dominions.

 To the north there was nothing but a sandy strip of desert and the tossing

  waters of theNonesticOcean. East lay theKingdomofIx, and Zixie (sic)

  the little Queen he considered too pleasant and friendly to conquer.

  Besides, the climate of Ix was not much better than that of his own

  country. To the west of Skampavia was Merryland, and at one time a band of

  his roistering Skampavians had crossed over into that country bent on theft

  and mischief. Recalling the way they had been welcomed and entertained by

  the cheerful King of Merryland and sent home simply laden with presents, he

  hastily dismissed that country too. How could he fight a monarch like that?

  To the south lay the burning sands of the Deadly Desert, which no man in

  his own Kingdom had ever succeeded in crossing.

 So having exhausted all the possibilities in the immediate neighborhood,

  Skamperoo tapped his foot in vexation and began casting about in his mind

  for some fair and faraway country to conquer. He closed his eyes in order

  to think better and was just on the point of falling into a pleasant doze

  of riches and conquest when Pinny Penny came noisily into the room. He was

  preceded by two of the King's Supervisors, who, urged forward by the

  fearless little Prime Minister, stood sulkily and defiantly before the

  throne.

 "Well, what now?" demanded Skamperoo, blinking his eyes sleepily. "Can you

  not handle these arguments yourself, Pinny Penny? Is a King to have no rest

  or privacy at all?"

 Instead of answering, Pinny Penny took a small cotton bag from the tallest

  of the Supervisors and handed it silently to the King. Still half asleep,

  Skamperoo untied the drawstring of the small bag and emptied the contents

  into his fat hand. What he saw there made his eyes fly open wide open.

  Jewels! The very thing for which he had been wishing. "Emeralds!" gasped

  the King, rubbing the glittering necklace between his fingers. "Where did

  you get this, Twobyfour?"

 "They were sent to your Majesty by a merchant in the Second County, who got

  them from a traveling peddler. The peddler had got them from a Gilliken,

  who had got them from a Quadling, who had got them from a Munchkin, who had

  once lived in the Emerald City of Oz."

 "OZ!" snapped the King, sitting up very straight. "Where is Oz?"

 "Oz is a great and powerful Kingdom on the other side of the Deadly Desert,"

  answered Twobyfour, looking uneasily over his shoulder at Pinny Penny.

 "Then how did this peddler cross the desert?" demanded Skamperoo, holding

  the necklace up to the light and feasting his eyes greedily on its gleaming

  emeralds.

 "That I cannot say." Twobyfour cast a longing glance at the door, heartily

  wishing himself on the other side.

 "Then perhaps you will tell us why you did not turn this necklace over to

  the king," suggested Pinny Penny mournfully.

 "Yes, how dared you keep it?" panted Skamperoo indignantly. "And what are

  you gaping at, Threebysix? I'll wager you were in this, too."

 "He was," shouted Twobyfour hoarsely. "He tried to steal the jewels from me.

  That's how he got the black eye."

 "But you tried to steal them from me, and what about that, my fine

  fellow?" Twobyfour turned a painful and uncomfortable scarlet under the

  King's accusing eye.

 "In Skampavia we have so little, your Majesty," he stuttered miserably.

  "With these emeralds I thought I might buy a bit of land in some cooler and

  more comfortable country where my wife and boys could be happy a

  country where flowers would grow in a garden, and where a man would not

  have to spend his whole life wrestling with rocks and weeds and drilling

  for hours in the hot sun for no reason whatsoever."

 "Hah!" exclaimed Pinny Penny, looking meaningly at the King.

 "Hah, yourself!" grunted Skamperoo wrathfully. Then, as the emeralds

  continued to sparkle and glitter in his hand, his anger subsided. "You did

  very wrong to keep the necklace, Twobyfour," he stated mildly. "But I have

  decided to forgive you. Return now to the Second County and explain to the

  merchant who gave you this necklace that I must have all three."

 "All three!" exclaimed Twobyfour. "But he's entitled by law to two of them."

 "My word is the law here, and you can choose between a broken law or a

  broken head," Skamperoo told him calmly.

 "He is the KING," murmured Pinny Penny in a quiet voice. There was nothing

  sarcastic in the manner of his speech, but something in the Prime

  Minister's expression made the King prickle with discomfort.

 "Yes, I am the King," he shouted explosively, "and moreover I have spoken.

  Begone, both of you, and YOU, Twobyfour, have two days to return with those

  two necklaces. The necklaces or your HEAD, do you understand? And er

  er you may tell that merchant in your county that he need send no

  more of his wares to the capital; the three necklaces will suffice," he

  bellowed as the two Supervisors went bolting through the door.

 "Now nice, they will suffice. You are the King," sniffed Pinny Penny with a

  sour smile.

 "Are you a parrot or a Prime Minister? Stop repeating that silly stuff and

  tell me about Oz," commanded Skamperoo, clasping the emerald necklace

  around his fat throat. "Have you ever heard of this place, Pinny Penny? It

  must be a rich and marvelous country if peddlers can trade emerald

  necklaces as carelessly as we trade wooden beads."

 "It is a marvelous country," answered Pinny Penny thoughtfully. "I remember

  my father telling me about the capital of Oz, an Emerald City where even

  the streets were inlaid with jewels, and every tower and wall was studded

  with emeralds."

 "Well, why have I never been told about this?" wheezed the King peevishly.

  "A country like that just a precious stone's throw away, so to speak."

 "Your Majesty has never cared for reading or study," Pinny Penny reminded

  him a bit maliciously. "In our library there is a whole history of Oz."

 "Fetch it! Fetch it, bring it to me at once!" panted the King, bouncing up

  and down on his throne like a big, bad baby (which in truth he was). "I

  must discover why Oz is so rich and prosperous while we are so poor and

  unfortunate."

 "Not so unfortunate and poor as we are unwise and greedy," stated Pinny

  Penny, stalking calmly across the room. "If your Majesty would study ways

  to improve Skampavia and allow your own subjects to keep a fair share of

  their crops and merchandise, we might be a powerful country, too."

 "Nonsense! What can we do with a rocky little desert like this?" blustered

  Skamperoo contemptuously. "Skampavia is a dull little Kingdom, a dumb

  little Kingdom a KingDUMB, that's a good name for it."

 "And you?" murmured Pinny Penny under his breath as he hastened away to

  fetch the book on Oz. Returning, he plumped the fat volume down on the

  King's knees and stood back with folded arms.

 "Well? Well? Do you expect me to read all this?" wailed Skamperoo in dismay.

  "Why, it would take a year or more. Explain it to me, Pinny Penny. Just

  give me the gist of the matter. Jist give me the gist there, I've made

  a joke. Ha! Ha! Ha! I've made a joke."

 "But Oz is no joke," said the Prime Minister shortly. "Your Majesty had

  better get that through your head at once. Now attend closely, and I will

  endeavor to give you the most important facts about this rich and

  enchanting country across the desert. In the first place," Pinny Penny

  looked severely over his specs, "Oz is about fifty times as large as

  Skampavia, a great, oblong, undulating country divided into four triangular

  Kingdoms. Each of these Kingdoms has its own ruler, but all four are

  subject to the rule of Ozma of Oz, whose capital, the Emerald City, is in

  the exact center of Oz.

 "A girl?" exclaimed Skamperoo, leaning forward excitedly. "How can a mere

  girl rule over an important country like that?"

 "By using her heart as well as her head, by encouraging thrift and rewarding

  industry," announced Pinny Penny in a tone that made the King wince. "Your

  Majesty would do well to read of her wise laws and plans for the betterment

  of her country."

 "You may just skip all that," sniffed Skamperoo, closing his mouth

  stubbornly. "Tell me, who are the rulers of these four Kingdoms and the

  general customs and characteristics of the people."

 Closing his eyes and putting his fingertips together, Pinny Penny began

  solemnly: "The Northernmost country of Oz is the Land of the Gillikens,

  famed for its luscious grapes, plums, wisteria, and heather. It is a purple

  country and is ruled over by Joe King and Queen Hyacinth, who live in an

  amethyst-trimmed castle high in the Gilliken Mountains. The Eastern Empire

  of Oz is a yellow country, known for its wheat, corn, butter, pumpkins,

  daffodils, and gold mines. Nick Chopper is Emperor of the Winkies, and this

  singular ruler is entirely made of tin plate and celebrated in song and

  story as `The Tin Woodman of Oz.'" Pinny Penny paused a moment to

  catch his breath and then continued quietly:

 "The Southland is red and noted for its strawberries, tomatoes, beets, red

  birds, red wood, and red heads. Glinda, the Good Sorceress, governs the

  Quadlings, who make up its inhabitants, and she knows as much magic as Ozma

  herself"

 "Oh, it's one of those magic places where one just snaps the fingers to get

  what he wants," sighed the King discontentedly. "Well Well, go on

 "

 "The Western Country of Oz is blue," continued Pinny Penny obligingly, "and

  everyone has heard of its famous Blue Ridge Mountains, its blue birds, its

  violets, its blue skies, and its capital, the Sapphire City. Cheeriobed is

  King and Orin is Queen of the Munchkins, and they live in the Sapphire City

  in almost as much magnificence as Ozma in the Emerald City. Is that all you

  wish to know?"

 "About the army," muttered Skamperoo, wrinkling up his forehead. "Has this

  girl ruler a great army stationed at her capital?"

 Pinny Penny grinned in spite of himself. "The young fairy ruler of Oz is

  opposed to all wars and fighting and has at her court an army consisting of

  one tall soldier with green whiskers," he explained hurriedly.

 "One soldier with green whiskers!" shouted the King, nearly tumbling off his

  throne. "I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life. I thought you

  said Oz wasn't a joke, and yet you stand there and tell me about an army

  with one soldier. Why, that's the funniest thing I ever heard. Ha, haw,

  haw!"

 "Laugh if you wish," said Pinny Penny resignedly, "but don't forget that

  Ozma has more magic at her fingertips than we have pebbles on our desert.

  In her palace lives the famous Wizard of Oz, who can work every sort of

  transformation and enchantment, but does so only for the good of the

  country."

 "Humph!" exclaimed the King. "Well, how many fighting men have we?"

 "Seven hundred Skampavian soldiers in each of the seven counties," answered

  Pinny Penny reluctantly, "but let me warn your Majesty that the idea you

  have in your head is sheer madness and will lead to nothing but ruin. Take

  off your crown, put on your nightcap and dream away this foolishness."

 "And a fine-looking crown it is," snapped the King, snatching off his crown

  and looking at it angrily. "But these emeralds will brighten it up a bit,

  eh Pinny Penny?"

 "It is not the sparkle of gems in a King's crown that count, it is the

  jewels of wisdom in the head under the crown that make him happy and well

  beloved"

 "Stop! Enough!" yelled the King, hurling the crown with all his might at

  Pinny Penny. "When will you stop this infernal lecturing and scolding?"

 "When your Majesty stops talking nonsense," sighed Pinny, catching the crown

  with one hand and pulling a long bell cord with the other. "Come now, let

  us have our tea and forget about Oz," he proposed calmly. "Lemon or cream,

  your Highness?"

 "Lemon!" growled the King sourly, and slapping open the book of history on

  his knees, he stared long and enviously at a picture of the Emerald City of

  Oz.

 CHAPTER 2

 THE KING AND THE MERCHANT

 Two days had passed since Skamperoo had come into possession of the emerald

  necklace. He had never taken it off for a moment. He even wore it to bed,

  and spent most of the daytime admiring himself and it in the palace

  mirrors. Now, as the afternoon of the second day drew to a close, he kept

  bouncing over to the windows that commanded a view of the Highway.

 "If that rascal does not turn up soon, I'll I'll"

 "Explode, probably," predicted Pinny Penny, who was playing solitaire with

  the only pack of cards the castle afforded. "Calm yourself, Skamper, what

  good are these emeralds when you come right down to it?"

 "Good? Good? They are worth more than this whole miserable castle," answered

  the King indignantly. "I can sell them and buy no, no, I'll never part

  with them," he corrected himself hastily. "They give me a feeling of

  importance and power. Our star has risen, Pinny Penny. Great days are

  ahead. Hark! Listen! Is that a footstep in the courtyard?" Darting back to

  the window, the portly monarch flattened his nose against the pane. "It's

  Tooby! It's Twobyfour!" he shouted, hopping up and down like a schoolboy.

  "And there's a tall, bearded stranger with him."

 "If your Majesty will quietly seat yourself, I'll endeavor to announce

  them," reproved Pinny Penny, gathering up his cards. "Remember, you are a

  King and not a jumping jack."

 "Oh all right." Skamperoo flung himself heavily down among his cushions,

  and presently the tramp of feet along the corridor proclaimed the arrival

  of the long-awaited Supervisor. Pinny Penny advanced stiffly to meet him

  and after a whispered conversation, he called out in a bored voice:

  "Twobyfour, Governor of our Second Province, and Matiah the Merchant, your

  Majesty!"

 "Yes! Yes? But where are the emeralds?" panted Skamperoo, leaning forward

  eagerly as the two travelers advanced respectfully to the throne. Drawing a

  small bag from his leather jerkin, Twobyfour held it sullenly out to the

  King.

 "Here, your Majesty, and here also is the merchant who goes with the

  necklace." Twobyfour haughtily indicated the turbaned Skampavian beside

  him.

 "Yes! Yes, the merchant." The King, intent upon the jewels, did not even

  look up. "He goes with the necklaces, you say? Well, ha! Ha! Now he may go

  without them. That is all I require of you, my good fellow. Your presence

  here is not necessary or desirable. You may go. GO, do you understand?"

 "Go?" Matiah drew himself up to his fullest height, which was pretty high, I

  can tell you. "Perhaps your Majesty will suggest where? For these three

  necklaces I traded my house, my shops, and all my other possessions. You

  say that is all, and it is indeed. Since you have taken all I own and

  possess, your Majesty must take me also. You owe me a living, and I am here

  to say so."

 "Say no more," put in Pinny Penny soothingly. "Matiah is right, Skamperoo,

  and well within his rights as well. We must make a place for him in the

  palace. What can you do?" he inquired practically.

 "Do?" The merchant opened his eyes very wide. "Do? I am a merchant

  accustomed to dealing in jewels, china, cloth, and basketwear (sic)."

 "Then you'll be the very one to help out in the kitchen and laundry,"

  proposed Pinny Penny brightly. "There are no jewels, but we have onions and

  potatoes aplenty, and with the dirty dishes and hampers of soiled linens

  you will be right at home."

 "What?" screamed Matiah as Twobyfour snickered behind his hand. "You require

  this mean-ial toil of me Matiah, son of Metorah, son of Metanic,

  merchants for these thousands of years? This is preposterous! An outrage! I

  will go! I will go indeed. I will start a war, an uprising, a revolution!

  Help! Help! Help!" yelled the merchant shrilly. "The King has stolen my

  emeralds."

 "Stop! Stop! Not so loud," begged Skamperoo, leaping agilely off his throne

  and pattering anxiously after Matiah. "You may leave us, Pinny Penny, I

  think I can find something better than kitchen work for this honest

  citizen."

 "Humph!" snorted Pinny Penny, and motioning for Twobyfour to follow him, he

  marched disapprovingly from the royal presence.

 "You musn't mind old Pinny," puffed the King, dropping a bit breathlessly on

  his throne. "There, there, now, sit down and make yourself comfortable. As

  I was saying, Pinny Penny has very odd notions at times."

 "Very odd," agreed Matiah, and seating himself on a chair opposite the King,

  he fastened his eyes greedily on the sparkling chains now clasped firmly

  about the monarch's fat throat.

 "Now, then, we must find something easy and pleasant for you," went on the

  King, scratching one ear reflectively. "You might, er you might spend

  your time entertaining me. I'll wager you are just full of good stories,

  songs, and amusing tricks."

 "Tricks?" exclaimed the merchant, elevating his nose disdainfully. Then a

  sudden gleam came into his small, black eyes. "Tricks!" he repeated more

  pleasantly. "Ah, your Majesty is right. How well you have guessed my

  secret." Leaning forward, he held his hand up to his mouth, and looking

  furtively over his shoulder whispered hoarsely, "I am a magician, King, and

  well versed in the arts of sorcery."

 "Sorcery!" cried Skamperoo, clasping himself delightedly about his middle.

  "How perfectly panormick! Magic is the very thing we need around here. Tell

  me quickly, what can you do? How much magic do you know?"

 "Is there some place where we can be quite alone?" Matiah held up his hand

  mysteriously. "NO one must know I am a magician. It must be a secret

  between us."

 "Of course! Of course!" agreed the King, rolling off his throne with more

  speed than dignity. "Come to my private walled garden. No one can hear us

  there."

 "No one?" asked Matiah sharply. "Are there then no guards upon the wall?"

 "No guards, no servants, no one at all is allowed in my garden," the King

  assured him proudly.

 "And is there a door in the garden's wall?" Matiah, stroking his long beard,

  stood regarding the King thoughtfully. "My first trick requires a door."

 "Of course there's a door, or how should I get out and in myself? Come

  along, come along!" Waddling into the corridor, Skamperoo started off at a

  quick trot for his private garden. Matiah, grinning wickedly to himself,

  stepped softly after the King. Once in the garden, he meant to have his

  necklaces, even if he had to take off the King's head to get them.

 "One sweep of my scimitar," murmured the merchant to himself, "Ho, ho! this

  is too easy!" The King's garden when they reached it was no more than a

  small, sandy square with some cactus plants in the center and a rickety

  bench against the wall. Seating himself heavily on the bench, Skamperoo

  made room for the merchant beside him.

 "Now, then," he grunted hurriedly. "Begin. Show me what you can do. Prove

  that you are a magician."

 "First I must have the necklaces," stated Matiah calmly. "Without the

  necklaces I cannot do a single trick."

 "But but if the magic is in the emeralds, I can be my own magician,"

  answered Skamperoo, clutching the chains with both hands.

 "But your Majesty is not a magician," Matiah told him reasonably. "You do

  not know the proper words or incantations. No, I myself must wear these

  magic jewels. And what harm is there in that? As soon as your wish is

  granted, I will hand them straight back to you."

 "What's that? Can you really grant wishes?" Skamperoo's eyes began to snap

  and dance with greed and interest.

 "Certainly," promised Matiah, blinking shrewdly across the square and

  estimating with his eye the distance he should have to run to reach the

  door in the garden wall. "All you have to do is to think of something you

  want, close your eyes, count slowly to a hundred, and I, wearing the three

  necklaces, will easily grant your wish. I thought you trusted me and that

  we were going to be friends," he finished reproachfully.

 "We were. Er, that is HERE, take them!" Unclasping the heavy chains,

  Skamperoo, who already had a wish in mind, thrust them into the merchant's

  hands. Closing his eyes, he made his wish and then began to count

  hysterically, "One, two, three, four, five, six." At six, Matiah was

  halfway across the garden, when horrors! A great white horse with a golden

  tail and mane dropped like a plummet from the sky. Pawing up the sand in

  Matiah's path, he flashed his yellow eyes so wickedly, the merchant fell

  back into the cactus bushes, where he lay screaming with shock, pain and

  amazement. But Skamperoo, thinking all the noises he heard were but magic

  incantations, went calmly on with his counting. He had reached sixty before

  Matiah had recovered himself enough to crawl out of the cactus and make his

  way cautiously back to the bench. The immense white horse continued to

  stare at him threateningly, but as it made no attempt to spring forward, he

  began to regain a little of his usual assurance and courage.

 "Great Garoo! Then there was magic in the emeralds. This horse was

  undoubtedly the King's wish come true, a beastly wish!" shuddered the

  merchant as he stared in fascination at the pawing monster and wondered

  what to do next. He was afraid to run past the white horse and escape with

  the jewels, but HAH! he could make a wish for himself, a wish that would

  carry him and the emeralds far from Skampavia, the farther the better.

  Closing his eyes, he muttered a hurried sentence and waited tensely to be

  transported to Ev, a country he had once visited in his youth. But nothing

  at all happened, and gritting his teeth with vexation, Matiah opened his

  eyes just as Skamperoo finished counting a hundred.

 "So!" beamed the delighted monarch heartily. "You have done it. You really

  are a magician. Behold my horse, a horse in a thousand. A golden-maned

  charger fit for a King, for a Conqueror"

 "Of all the dumb things," fumed Matiah, wriggling fiercely away from

  Skamperoo, "of all the dumb things to wish for, a horse is about the

  dumbest of all!"

 "Dumb?" whinnied the white steed with an indignant snort.

 "I'm not a dumb beast, I can laugh, I can talk,

 That's becoz I'm from Oz, and my full name is Chalk."

 "Cha-lk?" quavered Skamperoo, who had never heard an animal speak a word in

  his life. "He he says his name's Chalk." The King looked appealingly at

  the merchant, and seeing he would have to live up to the role of magician,

  Matiah assumed an air of careless superiority.

 "Well, he doubtless knows his own name, your Majesty. If he says his name is

  Chalk, it probably is Chalk, and the reason he can talk is because he comes

  from Oz, land of the magic necklaces, where all animals speak as well as we

  do."

 "Better," sniffed Chalk. Then, taking a experimental nibble at the cactus,

  he gave a terrific squeal of pain and displeasure flung up his heels

  and began to race around the garden at such a furious pace, Matiah and the

  King jumped behind the bench and cowered miserably against the wall.

 "Well, there you are!" panted the merchant angrily. "You have your horse,

  and what now? He's yours, you know, and you'll have to control him." Matiah

  ducked behind the King as Chalk thundered past, covering them both with

  dust and sand. "If you ask me, you simply wasted a wish. Why, you might

  have wished yourself a ton of emeralds, or a Kingdom ten times as large and

  prosperous as Skampavia, or"

 "But there's plenty of time for that," sputtered Skamperoo, holding

  desperately to the bench, "since you are a magician, you can grant all of

  my wishes."

 "Oh no, no indeed!" Matiah spoke hastily, remembering the way the emeralds

  had failed to grant his wish. "I can grant only one wish a week," he

  explained breathlessly, "and I trust next time you will think before you

  wish. Whoa, there, you Ozian brute! You silly monster. Stop that! Whoa! Ho!

  Whoa, I tell you!"

 "Are you my master?" Leaping lightly over the cactus, Chalk came to a sudden

  halt before the bench.

 "No, this King is your master," answered Matiah thankfully enough. "Speak to

  him, Skamper," he urged in a lower voice as Chalk reared curiously up on

  his hind legs to have a good look at the King.

 "Be behave yourself," commanded Skamperoo tearfully. "How do you expect

  me to ride on your back if you act like this?"

 "Ah, so you expect to ride me?" Chalk came down with a thud and grinned

  broadly at his new master. If you have never seen a horse grin, you have no

  idea how upsetting it can be. "Well, I suppose I shall have to put up with

  you," he neighed finally. "Just call a groom or servant, old Rub-atub, and

  see that I'm served my evening oats, three apples, and a measure of corn."

 "Certainly, certainly," agreed the King, starting off on trembling legs.

 "Well, I must say this is splendid, splendid!" protested Matiah, hurrying

  nervously after the King. (He was afraid to stay in the garden with Chalk.)

  "Where do you expect to get taking orders from a horse?"

 "I suppose you'd prefer me to take them from you!" puffed Skamperoo,

  beginning to grow a little angry himself. "Here, GIVE me my necklaces."

  Snatching the emeralds from the merchant's neck, he went charging into the

  palace hardly knowing whether to be glad or sorry for the sudden change in

  his fortunes.

 But by the time he reached the throne room, he had calmed down considerably.

  Seating himself hurriedly on his throne, he pondered how he could keep all

  these strange occurrences from Pinny Penny. He felt sure Pinny Penny would

  never approve of magic necklaces or a talking horse. Well now, he'd just

  tell his meddlesome Prime Minister that the stamping, snorting steed in the

  garden belonged to Matiah and must be fed and stabled. When he made another

  wish and he had a whole week to think about that when he made

  another wish he would be careful to wish for everything he needed. As for

  this whiskery wizard, he would flatter him along until he discovered the

  right magic to use with the emeralds. Then he would wish him away like

  that. Like THAT! Snapping his fingers spitefully, Skamperoo pulled the long

  bell cord that summoned Pinny Penny. His Royal Charger should be fed. Not

  many monarchs had a talking horse with a golden mane. Aho, but he was

  coming on! He'd show Pinny Penny yet what a smart ruler he was!

 Now Matiah, following the King slowly into the palace, had done some

  reflecting, too. He resolved not to lose his temper again with this

  provoking simpleton of a sovereign. He would simply humor him along, and

  before the week was out he would have another chance to steal the necklaces

  and escape to some far country. There at his leisure he would experiment

  until he discovered the right way to use them. He could not understand why

  the King had got his wish and his own wish had gone for nothing. What was

  the secret of the magic emeralds? With his forehead still wrinkled in

  thought, Matiah entered the throne room and quietly seated himself in a

  chair opposite Skamperoo. Much to his relief, the King neither reproached

  nor upbraided him.

 "As, so there you are!" he cried in his best meant-to-be-cheerful voice. "I

  have just sent Pinny Penny to feed your horse."

 "My horse?" barked Matiah, starting up in dismay. Then, catching a

  meaning wink from the King, he quickly winked back.

 "It seemed wisest," murmured Skamperoo, "to say nothing of your magic powers

  for the present. All this will be OUR secret," he finished playfully.

 "Oh, yes, yes, indubitably!" While Skamperoo was still wondering what

  "indubitably" meant, Matiah hurried out of the room and took a long drink

  of water from the old-fashioned fountain in the hall. "OUR secret!" he

  repeated bitterly to himself. "Our secret, indeed!"

 CHAPTER 3

 MORE ABOUT THE EMERALDS

 Skamperoo had not slept a wink. He tossed from side to side of the royal

  bed, his head simply buzzing with enchanting plans for the future. With the

  magic emeralds he could have everything he desired, and his desires and

  wishes were multiplying so rapidly he scarcely knew where to begin or what

  to wish for first. The necklaces pressed uncomfortably against his throat,

  but he would not take them off. He was so weary he ached in every bone, but

  still he could not stop thinking, and just as the castle clock tolled

  seven, the very thing he should wish for first came suddenly to him.

 Ah, that was it. Too bad he had to wait a whole week, but a week would pass,

  and perhaps during that time he would discover for himself the magic secret

  of his sparkling new treasures. Then he could be his own magician and put

  that meddlesome merchant in his place. As he was running over in his mind

  possible places to send Matiah, the door of his room opened cautiously, and

  Pinny Penny stuck in his head.

 "Well! Well? And did I ring?" grunted Skamperoo fretfully. "This is a fine

  time to awaken an Emperor."

 "Emperor?" exclaimed Pinny Penny, coming all the way into the room and

  closing the door. "Since when has Skampavia's King become an Emperor?"

 "Oh, go away and don't bother me." Turning his back on Pinny Penny, the King

  thumped his pillow and closed his eyes as tightly as he could.

 "It's all about the horse," whispered Pinny Penny, coming around to the

  other side of the bed. "A strange and magnificent animal for a mere

  merchant, if I may be permitted to say so. Not only that, it TALKS. It's

  ordering the stable boys around in a shocking manner, and it even told ME

  to mind my own business."

 "Well, why don't you?" suggested Skamperoo, rolling over on his back. "Of

  course he talks, Pinny; he's an Oz horse, and all animals from Oz talk. I

  thought you knew that."

 "Well, if this merchant has a talking horse, he is not so poor as he

  pretends," persisted Pinny Penny, shaking his finger under the King's nose.

  "My advice is to set the fellow on his horse and send him about his

  business as quickly as possible. I don't like his looks, Skamper. He's mean

  and mischievous, and mark my words, no good will come of him or his

  necklaces."

 "I don't like his looks any better than you," agreed the King, clasping his

  fat hands on his stomach. "But if I keep the emeralds, I must keep the

  merchant, and besides, I've a notion I could ride that talking horse

  myself."

 "Oh, good goats and gravy! Then I'd best go and lay in a supply of splints

  and liniment." Pushing his specs up on his forehead, Pinny Penny cast a

  disgusted glance at his huge reclining master and rushed hurriedly from the

  royal presence.

 Now Matiah, as you can well imagine, had slept no better than the King. In

  the small room to which Pinny Penny had taken him, he paced restlessly up

  and down. After all, he knew only two facts about the magic emeralds, the

  first that they really could, under certain conditions, grant wishes; the

  second, that they must not be worn by the person making the wish. This much

  the merchant had reasoned out for himself.

 As the King had got his wish while he, Matiah, was wearing the necklaces,

  and he himself had not got the wish he made with the emeralds around his

  own throat, that much seemed certain. Snapping his fingers joyfully and

  feeling sure the King was now wearing the jeweled chains, Matiah made a

  second wish, counting slowly to a hundred. But the hearty supper he had

  ordered as a test failed to appear, and flinging himself down on the bed,

  he began to rack his brains for some other solution to the mystery. Perhaps

  the magic power rested in a single stone which he had luckily touched as

  the King made his wish.

 Holding his head with both hands, he tried to remember exactly what he had

  done as Skamperoo began to count. But it was no use. He could not recall a

  single thing after he had started to run across the garden. And how,

  concluded the infuriated fellow, was he ever to discover the way to use the

  emeralds without arousing the King's suspicions or revealing the fact that

  he knew no more about them than Skamperoo himself? Muttering with vexation,

  he kicked a footstool all the way across the room and sat staring morosely

  at the worn carpet. The short, uneasy nap he finally got before morning did

  him no good, and cross and jumpy as a cougar, he made his way to the dingy

  dining hall of the palace.

 The King had already breakfasted, and looking out of the window, Matiah saw

  a terrified servant leading the Talking Horse around the courtyard,

  Skamperoo following at a safe distance. The sight of the stamping white

  charger made Matiah shudder anew. What a waste! he reflected bitterly, and

  if the King grew fond of the saucy monster, it would make his own task even

  more difficult, for until he succeeded in stealing the necklaces Matiah did

  not intend to let Skamperoo out of his sight. Gulping down the weak coffee

  and cold eggs a shabby servant grudgingly placed before him, he hastened

  outside. "Good morning, your Majesty!" he called out heartily. "And may I

  have a word with your Royal Highness?"

 "What kind of a word?" snickered Chalk, rolling his yellow eyes roguishly

  round at the merchant. "Give him a word, old Rub-atub, if that's all he

  wants. The right word for him, I should way, would be `GO!' or `NO!' and

  then we all could be happy."

 "It is about the necklaces," confided Matiah, ignoring the horse utterly and

  falling uneasily into step with the King. "They must be cleaned every day

  to keep them in good wishing condition."

 "But I was just going for a ride," objected Skamperoo with a little frown.

  "Won't this afternoon do?"

 "No, NOW is the proper time," answered Matiah impressively, thinking how

  clever he was to have invented this ruse to get hold of the emeralds. "If

  your Majesty will just give them to me, I'll polish them up while you are

  er exercising."

 "No, no, er That is, I'd better come and help you," Skamperoo spoke

  quickly. "I can ride this afternoon."

 "You think so?" With an exuberant prance, Chalk rose on his hind legs and

  spun around like a pinwheel. "Well, see you later, old Sos!" And with the

  terrified stable boy hanging onto his bridle, he went galloping off to the

  stable.

 "If you take my advice, you'll have that creature knocked on the head," said

  Matiah savagely. "Surely you won't endanger our lives by riding on his

  back."

 "OUR lives!" exclaimed Skamperoo, looking at Matiah in surprise. "You do not

  have to ride him; in fact, he's really my horse," he stated jealously.

 "So long as your Majesty wears the magic necklaces I must go wherever you go

  and do whatever you do!" explained the merchant loftily.

 "How How very awkward!" In spite of himself, Skamperoo groaned as he

  thought how tiresome it would be with Matiah trailing after him from

  morning to night. "I should think a magician like yourself could arrange

  things more sensibly."

 "But consider what is at stake," Matiah reminded him earnestly. "Together we

  can have and do anything we wish. Is that not worth a little

  inconvenience?"

 "Yes, yes, I suppose so. But if we are to do everything together, I think I

  should know the magic wishing formula as well as you." Skamperoo looked

  defiantly up at his newest advisor.

 "That is impossible." Striding stiffly along, Matiah shook his head. "The

  incantation once revealed becomes powerless. Only one versed in magic is

  permitted to use the emeralds. Have you thought at all about your next

  wish?" he asked, anxious to direct the King's mind into more cheerful

  channels. "We should plan and consult about it together, you know. But wait

  until we are in your Majesty's throne room," he added quickly as Skamperoo

  began to open and shut his mouth like a fish without saying anything.

  "While I am cleaning the necklaces, we can talk it over, yes?" Matiah's

  fingers fairly itched for the sparkling jewels, but restraining a mad

  impulse to snatch them from the King's throat, he walked along quietly

  beside Skamperoo talking so calmly and convincingly that he soon had the

  Skampavian monarch not only willing but anxious to reveal the wish that had

  kept him awake most of the night.

 First assuring himself that they were alone and locking the door so they

  would not be disturbed, the King seated himself at a small table. Matiah

  drew up a chair opposite and held out his hand for the necklaces.

  Reluctantly, Skamperoo handed them over, keeping a jealous eye on the

  jewels as the merchant began polishing them with a small square of silk he

  had taken from his pocket.

 As he rubbed the silk over the emeralds, Matiah carefully examined each one

  for some mark or sign that would give him a clue to their magic power.

  Intent as he was upon this task, a few low-spoken words of Skamperoo made

  him sit suddenly erect and regard the King with new respect and attention.

  How in thunderation, thought Matiah wonderingly, has this fat, silly

  monarch ever managed to hit upon such a magnificent and breathtaking wish,

  and as Skamperoo explained and elaborated upon his plan and schemes for the

  future, the merchant's interest grew apace. Quicker and cleverer than the

  King, he saw not only the possibilities of this splendid wish, but all the

  difficulties and problems that must be met and disposed of before it could

  reasonably be granted.

 Leaning forward, the emeralds for the moment forgotten, he put his mouth

  close to Skamperoo's ear. "There are three things that must be done before

  your wish can be realized." Matiah spoke tensely. "First...

  second... third..." After each short,

  whispered direction, Skamperoo nodded to show that he understood.

 "Then it will take four wishes to do it," he sighed, resting his elbows

  heavily on the table. "That will be four weeks, won't it?"

 "No, perhaps if we are careful we can work it all into one," answered Matiah

  thoughtfully, and taking up his bit of silk, he began polishing the

  emeralds with renewed vigor. The King, watching him, forgot his former

  dislike and distrust. Matiah's enthusiastic approval of his plans made him

  feel that perhaps he had misjudged this long-faced, whiskered stranger.

  Perhaps he would not wish him away, after all. He might prove very useful

  in the strange and magnificent future that stretched ahead.

 Matiah, on his part, had no such kindly intentions toward the King. He

  merely meant to make Skamperoo's wish his own, and so grand and daring was

  the prospect that he grew more impatient than ever to discover the way to

  accomplish it. Holding all three necklaces up to the light, he squinted at

  them anxiously. The chains seemed identical in every respect, but no

  what was this? One had a diamond clasp, while the clasps on the other two

  were of flattened emeralds. This, then, was the solution. The magic wishing

  power undoubtedly rested in the diamond clasp. Revealing in no way his

  satisfaction and elation over this important discovery, Matiah handed the

  necklaces back to the King.

 Somehow, decided the merchant, he must make Skamperoo touch the diamond

  clasp while he silently repeated the King's wish, but before that he needed

  a little time to prepare himself for the grand and glorious years that were

  to be his. As Skamperoo, exhausted by so much thinking early in the

  morning, waddled wearily over to his throne, Matiah strode to the

  bookshelves located in an adjoining room.

 "While your Majesty rests, I will have a look at this interesting library,"

  he murmured ingratiatingly, "and at the same time store up some useful

  information for the future." Skamperoo sleepily returned the merchant's

  broad wink, then, sinking back among his cushions, closed his eyes.

 >From his chair in the alcove, Matiah could keep the King in view, and

  satisfied that Skamperoo was really asleep, he began hurriedly turning over

  the pages of the large volume Pinny Penny had but that morning returned to

  the shelves. Soon he became so absorbed that he forgot all about the King.

  And that was a pity, for had he taken the trouble to look, he would have

  discovered that the King was no longer there..

 CHAPTER 4

 THE KING AND HIS TALKING HORSE

 Now it is true that the King had closed his eyes as Matiah settled himself

  in the alcove to read, but he was very far from asleep. In fact, no more

  than five minutes had been ticked away by the old-fashioned clock in the

  corner before Skamperoo straightened up as if suddenly struck by lightning.

  Casting a cautious look at the quiet merchant, he began to slide rapidly

  toward the door. Opening it without a sound, he slipped out into the

  corridor and, closing it just as softly, went puffing away to the quarters

  of the White Wishing Horse at the back of the courtyard. Though usually

  unenterprising and dull, we must credit Skamperoo with one brilliant idea.

  As Chalk had been brought to Skampavia by the magic emeralds, why should he

  not know the trick of using them? Fairly panting with eagerness and

  impatience, Skamperoo jerked open the door of the stable and stepped

  recklessly into Chalk's stall.

 "Ah, the little Kingaling!" whinnied Chalk, tossing his mane gaily. For some

  reason or other, he found his fat master tremendously amusing, and while he

  had an immediate desire to trample on Matiah and frighten off the stable

  boys, he felt only an affectionate tolerance for the tubby little ruler of

  Skampavia. "Have you come for your ride?" he inquired, giving the King a

  playful poke with his soft nose.

 "No, I've come to talk to you," wheezed Skamperoo, seating himself carefully

  on an overturned water bucket. "Quick, tell me all you know about these

  magic emeralds." Touching his three necklaces with a trembling forefinger,

  the King looked imploringly into the face of his new and powerful steed.

 "Humph!" Chalk shifted a mouthful of hay to his other cheek. "Well, as to

  that, or rather them, all that I know is nothing. You forget that I only

  came into existence yesterday afternoon."

 "Of course, of course! I was the one who wished you here," explained the

  King impatiently.

 "You wished me here?" mused Chalk, staring meditatively at the comical

  figure on the water bucket. "Well, I hardly know whether to thank you or to

  jump on you with all four feet. Even without any experience at all, I can

  see that this is no place for me."

 "You're right," sighed Skamperoo, clasping his knees dejectedly. "It's no

  place for me, either. That is why I must know about the emeralds. They can

  satisfy our every wish, and if we just knew how to use them, we could go

  away together."

 "You think you could manage that!" sniffed Chalk, who had his own opinion as

  to what would happen once the King mounted on his back.

 "Yes, together!" insisted Skamperoo. "Try to think," he begged earnestly.

  "You say you know nothing, then how did you know you came from Oz and your

  name and all that?"

 "That's right, how did I?" Putting one ear forward and one ear backward,

  Chalk swallowed his hay with a quick gulp. "There must be a lot of stuff in

  my head that I practically know nothing about," he reasoned thoughtfully.

  "Suppose you tell me exactly what happened, and then I'll tell you what I

  think of it." So, hunching forward, Skamperoo recounted the whole story of

  the merchant and the necklaces, how he and Matiah had retired to his

  private garden, how there, with the merchant wearing the emeralds, his

  first wish had been granted.

 "And a splendid wish it was, too," sighed Skamperoo, looking fondly up at

  his white horse. "Never forget that you were my first wish, fellow."

 "I'm hardly likely to forget myself," snickered Chalk loftily, "but attend

  closely, old Crown and Scepter, when I dropped down into that garden, yon

  whiskered merchant was running for the gate as if his life depended on it.

  He only stopped because he was afraid to pass me, and from the way he fell

  into those cactus bushes, I'll wager he was as astonished as you were that

  the emeralds had granted your wish." Chalk wrinkled his forehead shrewdly.

  "I don't believe he knows any more about the necklaces than we do. If he

  did, he would never have sent you one in the first place, and he would have

  granted all of his own wishes and been in some splendid other place.

  Matiah's a fraud!" finished the King's horse vehemently, "And he means to

  steal back the emeralds."

 "Of course! Of course! Oh! Oh! Why didn't I think of that myself? What shall

  we do now?" wailed Skamperoo, jumping up so quickly he overturned the

  bucket, for Chalk's frankly spoken opinion confirmed his own suspicions of

  the merchant.

 "Sit down," advised the white horse not unkindly. "I may not be a magician,

  but I have a little sense, and horse sense is what your Majesty needs more

  than anything else." As Skamperoo righted the bucket and meekly sat down

  again, Chalk closed his eyes, standing silent and motionless for so long

  the King though he had fallen into a trance. But just as he began to fidget

  nervously about on the uncomfortable edge of the bucket, the white horse

  opened his eyes and, flashing a triumphant smile at Skamperoo, began

  calling in a loud, lordly voice, "Boy! BOY! BOY!"

 While the King regarded him with mingled misgivings and admiration, Chalk

  snapped out directions to the clumsy little groom who came running in

  answer to his summons. When his mane and tail had been thoroughly brushed

  and he was decked out once more in the splendid saddle and trappings he had

  worn on his first appearance in Skampavia, he dismissed the groom with a

  haughty toss of his head.

 "Come!" he breathed mysteriously. "Climb up, Skamperoo, and we'll

  Skamperoodle before that rascally merchant even misses us. Have you decided

  upon the place we are to go?" he questioned curiously as the King made

  seven frantic efforts to put his foot in the golden stirrup. "Heh! Heh!

  Heh! The other foot, Master. How do you ever expect to mount that way?

  Stand on the bucket, Kingaling, catch hold of the saddle, and pull. It's

  easy as oats once you get the hang of it."

 "Is it?" Lying mournfully on his back where he had fallen after his last

  effort, Skamperoo gazed mournfully upward, and Chalk himself began to

  champ, snort and switch his tail with irritation.

 "You wished me on yourself and now it looks as if you would have to wish

  yourself on me," he muttered savagely. "Here, give me those necklaces

  hang them over my ear, and let's have done with this shameful exhibition."

 "You mean, if I wish myself upon your back I will really be there?" panted

  Skamperoo, bouncing up like a rubber ball. "You mean you have discovered

  the secret of the emeralds?"

 "Certainly!" The white horse regarded him scornfully through half-closed

  eyes, and the King, all too willing to be convinced, unclasped his three

  necklaces and, standing on tiptoe, hung them over Chalk's right ear.

 "I I wish to be upon this creature's back," puffed Skamperoo, his cheeks

  swelling out with suspense and importance. "One, two, three, four, five,

  six" and scarcely had he begun to count before he found himself

  firmly seated in the saddle.

 "Now, now, not another word," commanded Chalk sternly. "Before you dare to

  speak, take those emeralds off my ear." With shaking hands the King did as

  he was told, his heart pounding so violently it almost kicked a hole in his

  shirt.

 "That's right," directed the white horse more mildly. "Now suppose you tell

  me where you intend to wish us and what we do after that. Wishes are pretty

  quick, you know, and it is best to be prepared."

 "But but I cannot understand how you make them work," spluttered

  Skamperoo. "It's wonderful, it's marvelous. Do you understand what this

  means?"

 "Perfectly." Chalk rolled his eyes triumphantly round at his greedy little

  Master. "My head seems to be full of magic, which is not strange, seeing

  that I was magically brought into existence, and the trick of the

  necklaces, once I got to thinking about it, is quite simple. Now I am what

  I am a horse, and quite satisfied, but you with these emeralds may

  easily make a jackass of yourself, so you had better tell me what you wish

  before you wish it. For instance," he went on reprovingly, "if instead of

  wishing yourself upon my back you had wished yourself a good horseman, how

  much wiser that would have been. There's a lot more to riding than getting

  into the saddle, you know. But never mind that now. What was this great big

  wish you and Matiah were planning together?" Leaning so far forward he

  almost lost his balance, Skamperoo hurriedly whispered into Chalk's left

  ear his grand and glorious wish for the future, being careful to add to his

  own wish the three crafty suggestions made by the clever merchant.

 "You are sure this is what you desire?" Chalk looked sharply and a little

  sadly at the rotund and royal figure on his back. "You mean to go away and

  leave your own people without a thought or care? Isn't there anyone here

  you would like to take along or give a share of your good fortune?" The

  King shook his head violently.

 "I might make a wish for Pinny Penny," he added rather sheepishly.

 "Good idea," sniffed Chalk. "What are you going to give old Skinny Pins? You

  know, I rather like that old codger." Without delay and a bit spitefully,

  the King told him, and as this time Chalk found no fault with the wish,

  Skamperoo again placed the emeralds over Chalk's ear and quickly spoke nine

  words. Then, without waiting to see whether Pinny Penny got his wish, Chalk

  again took command.

 "If you do exactly as I say, we'll get off before Matiah discovers you are

  gone and comes down here to slice off your head to get his necklaces," said

  the white horse severely. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he slowly

  enunciated four brief sentences. Tingling partly with fright and partly

  with anticipation, Skamperoo repeated the four sentences after Chalk and

  began his counting. But stars! Scarcely had he reached ten before he felt a

  great lift and lurch, had just time to snatch back his emeralds and seize

  the reins before he and the huge white wishing horse, without leaving even

  a rustle in the quiet air, had gone, vanished and completely disappeared

  from Skampavia.

 CHAPTER 5

 A GREAT CELEBRATION IN OZ

 "Why all the crown jewels, old Toz?" Resting his chin on the window ledge,

  Highboy looked inquiringly into the dressing room of Joe King, ruler of the

  Gillikens and all of the purple countries of Oz. The King's apartment was

  on the tenth floor of the royal palace, but this made no difference to

  Highboy, for Highboy was a giant horse whose telescope legs could be raised

  or lowered to any level, making him one of the most amazing and amusing

  animals in Oz. "I say, are we going anywhere in particular?" he drawled

  curiously as the King, decked out in his best braided traveling coat and

  amethyst crown, surveyed himself cheerfully in the long mirror.

 "WE!" chuckled the merry monarch, turning round with a hearty roar. "Ho, Ho,

  HO! And how do you know YOU are going?"

 "Well, I see you are wearing your best purple boots, and when the King of

  all the Gillikens wears his best purple boots, he usually rides his best

  purple horse, does he not?"

 "Right," admitted the King good naturedly, "and I might as well tell you at

  once that we are going to the capital at the express invitation of her

  Imperial Highness, Queen Ozma of Oz!" The King cleared his throat

  importantly. "There is to be an immense festival to celebrate the discovery

  of Oz by mortals, the honors to be equally divided between the famous

  Wizard who arrived here in a balloon from Omaha many years ago and little

  Dorothy, who came by way of a Kansas cyclone somewhat later. Not only will

  the rulers of all four Oz Kingdoms be present, but many other important and

  Royal personages as well."

 "Well? Well, indeed!" trumpeted the giant horse shrilly. "There you stand

  all shined up like a doorknob and never a word to me. How'll I look? Why

  wasn't I told before? When do we start?"

 "Just as soon as her Majesty decides what to wear and what to take with

  her," answered the King with a solemn wink.

 "Oh, then I'll have bushels of time." Highboy sighed heavily with relief.

  "So we're invited to the Emerald City, eh? How perfectly perf, how simply

  magnif. Billy! Tommy! JIM!" As he called the name of each little groom,

  Highboy let himself down a couple of stories, and by the time he reached a

  usual horse height and level on the ground, he had ordered himself a bath,

  a mane wave, an oil shampoo and a hooficure. Indeed, Highboy's plans for

  the party went on apace and with the three grooms pattering after him with

  buckets, brushes and sponges, he trotted anxiously up and down his great,

  airy stable picking out his most splendid saddle and bridle and

  silver-braided blanket for the journey. The giant horse wished to make an

  impression that would uphold if not enhance the honor and reputation of the

  Gillikens. He was eager to renew his friendship with Trot, a little mortal

  girl who lived in the palace and with Herby, the Medicine Man, and the many

  other interesting characters he had met on a former visit to the capital.

 In the Munchkin, Quadling, and Winkie Kingdoms there was also a lively

  bustle and stir of preparation, and in many of the lesser Kingdoms the

  Kings, Queens and Potentates made ready for the great spring festival in

  the Emerald City. And you can imagine the fun and excitement in the capital

  itself. Everyone had some special part in the program; even the dogs and

  cats ran importantly about on countless errands like small messengers,

  their ears and tails quivering with interest and expectancy. After the

  visitors had been officially welcomed at the gates of the city, there was

  to be an imperial procession with bands, floats and favors for everybody.

  Then there were to be games, races, and other exciting athletic events and

  a grand banquet in the Royal Palace. A magic-lantern ball in Ozma's garden

  would complete the festivities for the first day. For the second, pageants

  and tableaux depicting the important and historical events of Ozian history

  had been arranged for the morning. Notta Bit More, a circus clown who had

  come to Oz from Philadelphia, was putting on an outdoor circus in the

  afternoon, helped by Bob Up, the orphan who had come with him, and all the

  famous animals in the Emerald City. From the squeals, shouts, and hilarious

  chuckles issuing from the huge white tent set just beyond the city wall, it

  promised to be an unqualified success.

 After the circus, Ozma had planned a picnic supper on the banks of the

  Winkie River, to be followed by demonstrations in magic by the Wizard of Oz

  and Glinda, the Good Sorceress of the South, and last, but not least, a

  lavish display of fireworks sent especially for the grand occasion by Happy

  Toko, Emperor of the Silver Isles. No wonder the children in the Emerald

  City could think of nothing but the coming celebration. No wonder Dorothy,

  Trot, and Bettsy (sic) Bobbin, the little mortals who lived in the great

  palace and were Princesses in their own right, were too busy to think of

  their titles or bother with their crowns. Dorothy, the first of the three

  to reach the capital, was Ozma's favorite companion, and Dorothy was

  perhaps the busiest of all. Not only had she planned all the tableaux and

  pageants, but had entire charge of decorating the palace and the Emerald

  City as well. The Scarecrow, whom Dorothy had discovered on her earliest

  trip to Oz, was her most willing and tireless assistant. This lively

  straw-stuffed gentleman had brains given him by the Wizard and was in high

  favor and constant demand because of his natural cheerfulness and amiable

  disposition.

 At the moment, he and Dorothy were superintending the erection of a floral

  arch over the great jeweled gates of the City. This arch, grown and tended

  by the Wizard, was so magically compounded that as each visitor rode

  through the gateway, a ribbon-tied bouquet of fragrant spring flowers

  dropped lightly into his or her lap. Dorothy and the Scarecrow had tried it

  out to their complete delight and satisfaction, and now, clasping their

  large bouquets, watched three energetic little gardeners tie up the last

  tendrils of the magic vine to the gaily painted arbor.

 "You know," said Dorothy, peering over the flower tops at the Scarecrow, "I

  can hardly wait till tomorrow. To think we'll be seeing Sir Hokus and Ojo

  and Unk Nunkie and Urtha and Prince Tatters and all the others"

 "And they'll be seeing us, too, remember that," beamed the Scarecrow,

  closing one cotton eye. "And now, if you can manage for a few minutes

  without me, I had better go and study up on my speech of welcome."

 "Oh, are YOU making the speech of welcome? How grand! How thrilling!"

  Dorothy gazed admiringly up at her oldest friend in Oz.

 "Yes, and I'm also making the speech awarding medals to the Discoverers of

  our country," confided the Scarecrow, thrusting out his chin and striking

  an attitude. "How will you feel when I pin that medal on your chest, my

  girl?"

 "Well," sighed Dorothy, looking dreamily over her bouquet, "I couldn't feel

  any happier than I do now, but it certainly will be a great honor,

  Scarecrow."

 "A great honor! Well, I should snickerty wicker. But what if I forget my

  speech right in the middle of a word?" The Scarecrow pushed back his old

  blue hat and puckered up his forehead anxiously. "How will I feel with all

  those Kings and Queens staring right at me? Really, I think Ozma had better

  have someone else make the speeches."

 "Oh, go along with you," laughed Dorothy, giving him a little push. "Haven't

  you magic brains? You'll be a splendid speechmaker."

 "Do you think so? Well, I'll do my best." Somewhat reassured, the Scarecrow

  patted Dorothy on the shoulder and started off through the park. Dorothy

  could tell from the way he flung his arms about that he was rehearsing, and

  with an amused little smile she hurried back to the palace to put the

  finishing touches to the decorations for Ozma's throne room. Halfway there,

  she met the Hungry Tiger carrying a large basket in his teeth and followed

  by ten little kitchen boys, also bearing enormous baskets.

 "Good gracious, Tige, what's this?" Dorothy stared at the little procession

  in surprise. The Hungry Tiger and Cowardly Lion have lived in the Emerald

  City almost as long as Dorothy, and though the tiger's appetite is

  tremendous and he is always threatening to eat a fat baby, he has never yet

  done it and is tame as Dorothy's pet kitten Eureka.

 "Oh, hadn't you heard?" The Hungry Tiger set down his basket and smoothed

  back his whiskers complacently. "I'm the head of the reception committee

  for all visiting animals and am on my way now to buy refreshments for the

  great banquet and picnic. And trust me," he gave Dorothy a broad wink, "to

  do it right. Just let me see that list, Kapo." Taking a long slip from the

  first Kitchen boy, he began to drone off the names of the capital's famous

  four-footed citizens and then the list of visitors.

 "Of course there must be meat for the Cowardly Lion and myself," mused the

  Tiger, blinking his eyes sleepily. "Then there's Hank, Bettsy Bobbin's

  Mule, and Doubty, that dromedary you and Sir Hokus brought back from one of

  those strange journeys, and we musn't forget Peter's Iffin, though he

  doesn't eat much. Put down a box of violets and geraniums for the Iffin,

  Kapo, my lad. Ozma's Saw Horse and the Woozy, being of wood, don't care for

  food, but that fine pink pig Pigasus eats enough for a dozen horses, and

  Toto, your little dog, and Billina must be taken care of, too, and Scraps'

  bear Grumpy."

 "Of course," agreed Dorothy, leaning her elbow on the Tiger's back so she

  could read the list over his shoulder. "But they all live here. Who's

  coming from foreign parts, Tiger?"

 "Well," confided the Tiger, "you'll be glad to know our old friend the

  Comfortable Camel is making the trip with Hokus I mean the Yellow

  Knight and Marygolden, the Princess he married, is riding a warhorse

  named Stampedro. The King and Queen of the Gillikens will make the trip on

  the Giant Horse (quite a lot of horses, aren't there?), and I hope Highboy

  keeps his legs in bounds. It makes me nervous to see a creature one height

  one minute and another height the next. You knew the Prince of Pumperdink

  was bringing Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant?"

 "Don't you mean that Kabumpo is bringing him?" put in Dorothy mischievously.

  "And won't you be glad to see him again?"

 "Yes, I'll be glad enough to see him," murmured the Tiger, "but feeding him

  is quite a big problem."

 "Well, you're just the one to do it," said Dorothy, smoothing away the

  wrinkle between the Tiger's pointed ears. "You have such a big appetite

  yourself, you'd know just how hungry an elephant would feel. I see you've

  got Roger down, too."

 "I'm pretty sure King Ato will bring his Read Bird, so I'm ordering a dozen

  boxes of animal crackers for Roger and a barrel of apples for Snufferbux."

 "I wonder if he'll dance for us." Dorothy's eyes brightened, for she had

  taken a great fancy to the faithful bear with whom Ojo had traveled all

  over Oz. "He's bound to be jolly and full of fun."

 "And hungry as a bear," sighed the Tiger with a worried frown. "But that is

  easy compared to a dragon. King Cheeriobed is bringing a dragon, and this

  dragon's on a diet of mustard and sulphur think of that, my child

  and SAY, I'd best get along, or I'll never get my marketing done."

 "And I must go, too," said Dorothy, reminded of her many responsibilities.

  So, giving the Tiger's ear an affectionate pull, she ran all the way back

  to the palace. In the throne room she found Ozma and Tik Tok in a quiet

  conference.

 "I've made Tik Tok Master of Ceremonies," said Ozma, looking up with a smile

  of welcome, "because he never forgets what he's wound up to remember."

 "And I'll be sure to keep him wound up," promised Dorothy, patting the

  machine man on his copper shoulder. Tik Tok was another of Dorothy's

  discoveries and had been manufactured by a magician to be a slave of the

  King of Ev, but here he was, thanks to Dorothy, enjoying a life of interest

  and ease in the capital. Tik Tok could talk, think, and move about as well

  as anyone when he was wound, and was much more reliable and tireless than a

  real person.

 "I am to an-nounce the vis-i-tors as they en-ter the pal-ace and

  per-son-al-ly con-duct them to their roy-al quar-ters," Tik Tok told

  Dorothy in his slow and precise manner. "Oz-ma can de-pend on me

  ab-so-lute-ly, and ev-e-ry-thing will go like clock-work." With two stiff

  bows and ticking with importance, the metal man marched proudly from the

  room.

 "Like clockwork. Ha, ha! Did you hear that, and why not, with a clockwork

  man in charge? Oh, Ozma, doesn't it all look grand and gorgeous?" Clasping

  the little Queen around her slender waist, Dorothy gazed around the

  beautiful throne room. Every window and doorway was garlanded with flowers,

  while hundreds of palms, ferns, and fluttering silk pennants gave it an

  unwonted look of pomp and ceremony. "Let me see," mused Dorothy,

  straightening the folds of a white satin curtain. "I'm to stand on your

  right, Bettsy Bobbin and Trot on your left, and the Patchwork Girl is to

  hold your train at the grand reception. Do you think you can trust her,

  Ozma? She'll probably try to jump rope or wave it like a handkerchief."

 "Oh, Scraps is pretty good, considering her giddy make-up," observed Ozma

  with a little smile, "and she would be so disappointed not to be with us.

  I'm sure I can trust her at least for a little while."

 "Trust me? Trust me? You disgust me," shouted a merry voice, and Scraps, who

  had been peeking through the curtains at the back of the room, took a long,

  running slide, landing in an unladylike heap at the foot of the dais

  leading to the throne. Scraps, made from an old crazy quilt and stuffed

  with cotton, had been brought to life by a magician to serve his wife, but

  the Patch Work Girl had come to the Emerald City with Ojo and never

  returned to her creators, scorning the humble career of a maid servant. She

  was so gay and amusing, Ozma had allowed her to remain at the palace.

 "Must I go in training to hold a train?" she demanded, springing to her feet

  and striking so comical an attitude both Dorothy and Ozma had to laugh.

 "Of course not," said Ozma kindly, "just be careful and do not do any

  gymnastics during the reception."

 "Oh, I'll be careful and so dignified I'll probably split a seam, but wait

  till you see the grand-aerial-balance-defying stunt I'm to put on for the

  big show," puffed Scraps, snapping her button eyes boastfully. "I'm to walk

  the tightrope in Notta's circus, so SO long, girls, I must go and

  practice."

 "Well, even if she falls, it won't matter," remarked Dorothy with a slight

  shudder as the Patch Work Girl jumped recklessly out of the window and

  picking herself up set off for the circus grounds on the edge of the park.

 "Oh, Ozma, with all the interesting people here already and with all the

  grand and exciting ones who are coming, I believe we'll have the best time

  we've ever had since Oz was discovered."

 "Are you glad you discovered us?" Giving her an affectionate squeeze, Ozma

  linked her arm through Dorothy's. "Let's see how the Wizard is getting on

  with his tricks for the picnic."

 Dorothy nodded eagerly, and hand in hand the two girls hurried across the

  corridor to the laboratory of the wonderful Wizard of Oz.

 CHAPTER 6

 A STRANGE WARNING

 The first day of the grand celebration dawned clear and bright. The Emerald

  City had never seemed more sparkling or fair. Flags fluttered from every

  tower and turret of the palace; each house wore a garland of flowers and

  flaunted a dozen silken banners in the fresh spring breeze. The streets

  were alive with Ozma's subjects suitable costumed for the big parade, and

  when, shortly after noon, the Royal Visitors began to arrive, the castle

  bells broke into a joyous tolling, the hundred bands struck up the Oz

  National Anthem, and the magnificent and beautiful floats began to swing

  into line.

 The Scarecrow's address of welcome at the City Gates had been greeted with

  wild enthusiasm and applause, and now, happy but somewhat breathless, the

  indefatigable Straw Man mounted on the Saw Horse was leading the

  illustrious Guests into the City, where they were to join the Royal

  Procession and proceed in triumph to the West Gardens of the park. What

  shouts and cheers went up from the happy throngs as that impressive company

  in their glittering coaches or riding their favorite steeds moved

  majestically through the emerald-studded streets of the capital. Directly

  following the Scarecrow, all in red and wearing her tallest ruby crown, was

  Glinda the Good Sorceress of the South, her swan-drawn chariot seeming to

  float by itself. Marching cheerfully after the Ruler of the Quadlings came

  Nick Chopper, the Nickel-Plated Emperor of the Winkies, polished to the

  highest degree but democratically afoot, marching in the center of his ten

  splendid uniformed Winkie Guards. A few steps behind the Tin Woodman and

  prancing along in hardly restrained exuberance was the Giant Horse, proudly

  bearing Joe King and Queen Hyacinth, King and Queen of the Gillikens. And

  Highboy not only carried his own head high, but he had elevated his

  sovereigns above everyone else in the procession so that none could miss

  the happily smiling rulers of the North.

 A dazzling blue dragon had pulled the coach of King Cheeriobed, Queen Orin

  and Prince Philador all the way from Sapphire City, and an eye-filling

  sight was the Royal Family of the Munchkins. Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant,

  resplendent in his jeweled robe, swayed haughtily along after Cheeriobed's

  blue coach, waving his trunk in a dignified way to this friends in the

  crowd. In the canopied seat on his back rode Prince Pompadore and Peg Amy

  of Pumperdink, easily the handsomest young couple in Oz.

 Peering mischievously out the side of his gaily painted jinrickisha was the

  merry Red Jinn himself, and no one could view the rotund little Wizard of

  Ev without feeling happier. Jinnicky's body was a great red jar. He wore

  the lid for a hat, and when he grew bored or sleepy he would simply retire

  into himself like a turtle. But now he did not feel at all like retiring

  and was showering ginger cookies right and left and simply beaming with

  interest and jollity. The King and Queen of Ragbad rolled briskly along in

  their shabby but comfortable open coach. With them were Prince Tatters,

  Urtha, his flowery little Princess, and Grandpa, an old Soldier with a

  wooden leg, who had gone through many wars and hardships for the sake of

  his country.

 But the shout that greeted the Yellow Knight was loudest and longest of all.

  The Prince of Corumbia had lived in the Emerald City for many years as Sir

  Hokus of Pokes before he was disenchanted and became the young and charming

  husband of Princess Marygolden of Corabia. Sir Hokus rode the Comfortable

  Camel, and Camy, who had also spent part of his life in the capital, came

  in for his full share of the cheering. Princess Marygolden was mounted on

  Stampedro, the Knight's great, stamping warhorse, and Stampedro was a sight

  to make any little boy's heart beat faster.

 Ato, King of the Octagon Isles, and Samuel Salt, a reformed Pirate now Royal

  Discoverer and Explorer for the Crown, traveled together in Ato's Octogon

  (sic) Chariot drawn by eight prancing black horses with eight footmen in

  eight-sided hats on the high seat behind his merry little Majesty. Roger,

  the Read Bird, perched proudly on the King's shoulder, reading out the

  signs and street names as they bowled merrily over the gold paving stones,

  and chuckling to himself in eight different languages.

 Last, but by no means least, came the King and Queen of Seebania, the King's

  uncle better known in the Emerald City as Unc Nunkie and the King's

  son, Ojo. The King and Queen were seated sedately in the Silver Coach of

  Seebania, but Ojo and his pet bear Snufferbux were proudly mounted on the

  back of Roganda, Queen of the Unicorns. This handsome, snow-white beast,

  who had happened to be visiting Ojo at the time, could not only send her

  horn darting out like a lance, but could blow it as well. The sound of its

  clear, bell-like notes made many a trumpeter in Ozma's band turn round with

  surprise and envy. Drawn up to meet her impressive visitors was Ozma

  herself. The Royal Float of Her Imperial Highness was formed like a

  seashell. On an uncut emerald in the center sat the little Ruler of all the

  Ozians dressed in a shimmering white robe, wearing her flashing emerald

  crown, and never in all the thousand years of her young life had this

  lovely young fairy looked more beautiful. Also in white were her

  attendants, Dorothy, Bettsy, and Trot, each wearing an emerald circlet and

  carrying a long wand draped with spring flowers.

 As the Scarecrow brought his bright cavalcade to a triumphant halt, Ozma's

  float, drawn by the Hungry Tiger and the Cowardly Lion, swung into place at

  the head of the line. The other Emerald City Floats, first waiting for the

  Royal Equipages and mounts of the visitors to pass, swept after them in a

  burst of music and color. The Wizard of Oz had chosen a huge, revolving,

  green ball on which the nimble little necromancer ably kept his balance as

  he propelled himself along. After him came Jack Pumpkinhead, riding the

  Iffin. Herby, the Medicine Man, clinging precariously to the Doubtful

  Dromedary's hump, the pills and boxes in his medicine chest rattling like

  castanets, was another figure of interest. The float of Notta Bit More

  represented a circus ring, and the antics of the clown, Pigasus, Bob Up,

  Scraps, Hank and Grumpy, the Patch Work Girl's bear, kept the onlookers in

  a gale of hilarity.

 Tik Tok had rigged up a mechanical handcar, which he operated himself.

  Benny, the live statue of a public Benefactor, who had come to Oz from

  Boston, strode solidly along, an expression of pride and deep satisfaction

  on his well-carved features. Beside Benny marched the Soldier with Green

  Whiskers, looking neither to the left nor right, as became a man who

  represented in his own person the whole and entire army of Oz. I have only

  mentioned the most outstanding of the Emerald City paraders. Besides these,

  there were countless marchers and hundreds of miniature castles, ships,

  huge make-believe sea serpents and dragons, and in a blaze of color and

  harmony they wound through the streets of the capital, ending up in the

  West Gardens of the palace, where the boys and girls from Professor

  Wogglebug's Athletic College distinguished themselves in a series of

  gymnastic displays, and the Scarecrow established an all-time record for

  pole vaulting.

 By the time Ozma had awarded the cups and trophies, the sun had begun to

  slip down behind the treetops, and in high spirits and with splendid

  appetites the Royal Party and the Royal Guests turned toward the castle.

  Here Tik Tok, who had hurried on ahead, nobly discharged his duties as

  Master of Ceremonies. The Cowardly Lion did the honors for the Four-Footed

  visitors, leading each to an airy, shower-equipped stall in the Royal

  Stable so they could rest and refresh themselves before the Grand Banquet.

  And how shall I do justice to that dazzling affair?

 For the first time in its history the magnificent Dining Hall was filled to

  capacity. Easily as large as a city park, there was just room for the two

  long, sparkling, flower-laden banquet tables, the first for Ozma's

  courtiers and guests, the second for the palace pets and visiting animals.

  The Scarecrow caused a roar of hilarity as the diners took their places by

  donning a pair of dark spectacles to prevent eyestrain from the flashing of

  so many jewels and crowns. With each course of the long, delicious dinner,

  Ozma had a different King, Queen or Celebrity at her side, and so cleverly

  had it all been arranged, each guest had the honor of sitting for a time

  beside the Kingdom's Little Fairy Ruler. Soft music floated down from the

  balcony where the Royal orchestra was concealed behind a bower of palms.

  The bright robes and jewels of the banqueters and the emerald and silver

  dinner service twinkled and sparkled in the magic glow of a thousand

  candles. The hundred footmen were swift and skillful, the speeches were

  short and merry, "And never," thought Dorothy, looking around with a little

  thrill of satisfaction, "never has there been so grand and yet delightful a

  party!"

 The Hungry Tiger had remembered the tastes and appetites of each of his

  guests, and not only were they served with the same dainties enjoyed by the

  Two-Footed visitors, but every one had a special dish of his own. Even the

  Dragon seemed to enjoy immensely his matches and mustard, then called in a

  hoarse voice for three pails of hot coals, after which he blew a whole

  series of smoke rings and went comfortably to sleep.

 Dorothy and the Wizard had with due modesty accepted their medals for their

  discovery of Oz, and the whole company on its feet for this impressive

  ceremony were suddenly startled by a shrill scream from the Patch Work

  Girl. "His beard! His beard! Look at his beard!" yodeled Scraps. (Yes, I

  think "yodel" best describes the excited noise made by this irrepressible

  maiden.) "His beard, I said, it's turning RED!" At the word "beard," every

  eye turned to the Soldier with Green Whiskers, for his beard was the

  longest and most celebrated in Oz.

 "Why, so it is!" exclaimed Dorothy in astonishment.

 "Red?" choked the Soldier, desperately clutching his famous whiskers. "Oh!

  Oh! My beautiful green beard, it's red as fire. Oh! Oh! How can I ever be

  the Soldier with Green Whiskers if my beard stays red? Who did this?

  Wizard! Wizard, are you playing a trick on me?"

 "Certainly not, Soldier. I'd be the last person to tamper with your sacred

  beard. Quiet, please! Quiet! This is extremely odd and disturbing." Jumping

  on his chair, the Little Wizard of Oz looked anxiously around the room.

 "Do they hurt? Are red whiskers painful?" asked Scraps while the Royal

  guests, hardly knowing whether to laugh or sympathize, gazed curiously at

  the blazing beard of the Army of Oz.

 "They they hurt my feelings," blubbered the poor Soldier, holding out

  his bristling red whiskers in disgust. "I'll never get used to a red beard.

  Never! Never!"

 "Why not cut it off?" inquired Prince Pompadore with some difficulty

  controlling his chuckles.

 "What? Cut off my beautiful whiskers? Why, why, I'd rather lose my head,"

  moaned the Soldier with a horrified shudder. "How would I look? How would I

  fight? Oh! Oh! This is ridiculous!" Burying his face in his napkin, Ozma's

  distracted army rushed violently from the room.

 "Red-iculous, if you ask me," observed the Scarecrow in his droll voice.

 "No, no, it's MAGIC!" muttered the Wizard, stepping briskly down from his

  chair. "Wait, I must consult my book of red magic and portents."

 "And I'll go with you," offered Jinnicky, rolling quickly out of his

  cushioned seat. "You know RED magic is my specialty." So, arm in arm, the

  Wizard of Oz and the Wizard of Ev bustled away together.

 "Well, I can tell you what it means without consulting any books," said the

  Scarecrow as Ozma, looking rather troubled, again took her place and

  motioned for the others to do the same. "It is a warning," declared the

  Scarecrow, raising his arm stiffly. "Someone is coming to beard us in our

  den (pardon such an informal reference to your castle, my dear)." He made

  an apologetic little bow to Ozma and then continued seriously, "A danger

  from without threatens the Kingdom of Oz."

 "Who would dare threaten the sovereignty of our country?" demanded the

  Yellow Knight, brandishing his sword.

 "What's up? What's up?" neighed Highboy, elevating himself so suddenly he

  cracked his head against the ceiling.

 "You should know, being so high," chuckled the Scarecrow, who could not

  resist a joke even when he was most serious. "But calm yourself, my good

  horse, you are not in danger yet." Danger! The short, ugly word dropped

  like a bomb into that gay and carefree assemblage. Dorothy, with a little

  pang of dismay, saw the Cowardly Lion creeping under the table, and feeling

  in her pocket for her handkerchief, drew out instead one of the Wizard's

  wishing pills. He had given it to her so she could visit the corn-ear

  palace of the Scarecrow the following week and do it by simply wishing

  herself there instead of making the journey. Dorothy fingered the pill

  thoughtfully for a minute or two, then with a sudden quick motion popped

  the small tablet into her mouth.

 "Whatever happens, help me to save Ozma and Oz," murmured Dorothy, and

  swallowing the pill, she looked sharply around the room for further signs

  of warning or disaster.

 CHAPTER 7

 WHAT WIZARD?

 At first, everything seemed as usual. Then, turning to ask the Tin Woodman a

  question, Dorothy was annoyed to discover that his chair was pushed back

  and he was nowhere in sight.

 "Oh, he's probably helping the Wizard," decided Dorothy, and had no sooner

  come to this comforting conclusion before she gave a second start of alarm.

  Glinda, the Good Sorceress, was no longer in her seat at the foot of the

  table, and running her eye hurriedly down the glittering board, Dorothy saw

  five more empty places. Pressing a finger to her forehead, Dorothy tried to

  remember who had been sitting in the five deserted chairs. Surely Joe King

  and Queen Hyacinth had been there between Bettsy Bobbin and Trot, while

  Prince Philador, Queen Orin and King Cheeriobed had been directly opposite.

 "Good Gillikens!" gasped the little girl, jumping quickly to her feet. "The

  rulers of all four Oz countries are gone, and Highboy's gone, too." And

  strangely enough, nobody seemed to have missed them. Instead, they were

  listening with broad smiles and appreciatively tapping toes to the loud and

  hilarious singing of the Patch Work Girl. Scraps, thinking it a shame to

  let a mere change of whiskers spoil a good party, was enlivening the

  company with her newest and most comical rhymes. So loud was her voice and

  the applause of the banqueters, Dorothy found it impossible to make herself

  heard, so running around to the back of the Scarecrow's chair, she tugged

  him anxiously by the arm. "Scarecrow! Scarecrow!" whispered Dorothy

  hoarsely. "Where are the Four Rulers of Oz, and whatever can be keeping the

  Wizard so long?" Tearing his gaze reluctantly from the Patch Work Girl, the

  Scarecrow looked dreamily over his shoulder.

 "WHAT WIZARD?" he inquired blankly.

 "THE Wizard, OUR Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz." Dorothy stamped her

  foot and almost shouted with surprise and vexation.

 "Never heard of him," declared the Scarecrow, smiling blandly down at her.

  "Now, why not sit quietly down and listen to Scraps? She's never been

  funnier. Ha! Ha! Ha! Never funnier!" Dorothy was so stunned and dumbfounded

  by the Scarecrow's statement about the Wizard, she opened and closed her

  mouth several times without saying anything.

 "Mercy, I'd better tell Ozma about this," she thought distractedly, and

  swinging round abruptly, she scurried along back of the diners till she

  came to the head of the table. "Oh, Ozma!" panted the little girl

  breathlessly then stopped short. There was no one in Ozma's great

  dragon-armed chair of state. The Yellow Knight and Prince Pompadore, who

  for the last course were in the seats of honor beside the little Queen,

  leaned unconcernedly across her empty place engaged in a long, earnest

  argument about horses. They looked up in surprise as Dorothy, her crown by

  this time very much on the side, bounced suddenly between them. "Where's

  Ozma?" demanded the little girl, thumping her fist sharply on the table.

 "Ozma?" The Yellow Knight and Prince Pompa exchanged an uneasy glance. "Who

  is Ozma?" asked Prince Pompadore curiously.

 "Oh! Oh, I think you are all perfectly horrid. Stop joking! Stop teasing

  me!" cried Dorothy, and as both Princes in frank amazement jumped up to try

  to comfort her, she rushed angrily from the room. As she fled along the

  green corridor she could still hear Scraps singing and the shouts and

  cheers of her listeners. "This is terrible, terrible!" wailed Dorothy, and

  running blindly down the long hall, she burst through the swinging doors of

  the Wizard's laboratory. What she had expected to find, Dorothy hardly

  knew. Really, she was hoping to see Ozma and the four other rulers grouped

  around the Wizard's green table.

 But only a blank, suffocating silence answered her frantic calls for the

  Wizard. Frightened into silence herself, Dorothy tiptoed from one end of

  the other of the long, curiously appointed apartment, peering into

  cupboards, under sofas and back of screens. Where was the Red Jinn? Where

  was the Little Wizard of Oz? Not here, certainly. Not in the Banquet Hall.

  But the THRONE ROOM! THERE she would find all of her missing friends

  conferring with Ozma over the threatened danger to the realm. With a little

  gasp of relief, she darted across the corridor into the vast and

  magnificent Hall of Justice where Ozma received visitors, settled disputes,

  and carried on all the important business of governing.

 They were not in the sumptuous presence chamber, but at least the throne was

  not empty. No, no indeed! Dorothy looked once, rubbed her eyes, looked

  again, and then, giving a shrill scream of terror, flung both arms round

  one of the emerald-studded pillars. An immense white horse was sitting on

  the throne of Oz. A great, fat King was sitting on the horse, or rather

  clinging desperately to his neck. Dorothy knew he was a King by the crown

  perched ridiculously on the side of his head. That crown seemed oddly

  familiar, and after another horrified glance, Dorothy screamed again, for

  it was the splendid emerald circlet belonging to Ozma of Oz.

 Her screams seemed to rouse the two occupants of the throne, who, to be

  perfectly frank, looked as dazed and stupefied as Dorothy herself. "Go

  away!" sputtered the fat King, waving his arms irritably. "Go away, little

  girl, and don't bother me."

 "And kindly bow as you leave," directed the White Horse, lifting one foot

  sternly. "You are looking at the Emperor of Oz and his Imperial Charger."

  Bowing more from astonishment than intention, Dorothy backed a few steps,

  then turned round and ran madly toward the Royal Banquet Hall.

 CHAPTER 8

 WAY FOR THE EMPEROR!

 "Here, give her water! Give her air! Stand back, everybody. Now, then,

  what's the matter, child?" The Scarecrow bent solicitously over the little

  girl who had rushed into the banquet hall screaming hysterically about

  disappearances and white horses and fallen breathlessly into the chair

  beside him. "Come, tell uncle all about it," begged the Scarecrow, patting

  Dorothy clumsily on the head.

 "Tell you!" choked poor Dorothy, twisting her best handkerchief into a hard

  knot. "Do I have to tell you? Can't you see for yourselves that Ozma is

  missing, that the Wizard and Jinnicky are gone, that Glinda and the Tin

  Woodman, that the King and Queen of the Gillikens and the King and Queen of

  the Munchkins have vanished entirely? And yet here you sit, singing and

  laughing as if nothing at all had happened. Can't you understand that

  something dreadful has happened to Ozma and that a big, fat, funny-looking

  man and a white horse are sitting on the throne of Oz?"

 "Ozma, Ozma who's she?" murmured the banqueters, looking vaguely at

  Dorothy and then at each other.

 "She's feverish, that's what." Herby, the Medicine Man,20leaned over to

  touch Dorothy expertly on the forehead. "I'd advise you to go upstairs and

  lie down, my dear."

 "Yes, who don't you?" urged Bettsy Bobbin, coming over to put her arm around

  Dorothy's waist. "I'll go up with you and lend you my very best smelling

  salts."

 "Lie down, with that big, fat interloper on the throne of Oz?" wailed

  Dorothy. Squirming out of Bettsy's embrace, she started indignantly to her

  feet. "You must be crazy! Camy! Kabumpo! Snufferbux! Toto! You you'll

  believe me, won't you?" Hurrying over to the second table, Dorothy looked

  pleadingly down the long board from the Hungry Tiger at the head to the

  Cowardly Lion at the foot.

 "There, there," mumbled Kabumpo, lifting Dorothy up in his trunk. "don't go

  on so, my dear, we all have these little funny spells. Here, sit up on my

  back so you'll have a good view of the Emperor when he arrives. Hi, there

  he comes now! Ray! Ray! Way for Skamperoo, Emperor of Oz!" Waving Dorothy

  in his trunk as if she had been a flag, Kabumpo plopped down on his knees

  and banged his big head three times on the polished floor. From her

  precarious position Dorothy saw the same fat imposter who had been in the

  throne room riding his white charger pompously into the Banquet Hall, the

  horse nodding to the left and right and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

 Cheers, bows and a loud burst of applause and music made his entry so noisy

  Dorothy's angry protests and cries were entirely drowned out. Disgusted,

  confused and completely bewildered by the behavior of Ozma's subjects and

  her own best friends, Dorothy jerked away from Kabumpo and darted through a

  long French window into the garden. What could it mean? What could have

  happened? Had all her former memories of Oz been a dream? No, no!

  Violently, Dorothy decided against such an idea. Rather was this fat

  emperor a dream, a maddening nightmare from which she would presently

  awaken. Leaning dizzily against a golden fawn set near a crystal garden

  pool, Dorothy tried to find some reasonable explanation of the whole

  dreadful mixup. And here, several minutes later, Pigasus, the winged Pig,

  found her.

 "Thought a little fly over the treetops might help your head," grunted

  Pigasus, looking unhappily down his pink snout. "Nothing like a little fly

  for a headache, my girl!"

 "My head's all right," answered Dorothy sullenly. "It's the rest of you who

  have lost your heads or your senses. How in Oz you could stand in there

  cheering that big, fat fraud I'll never, never understand. Piggins, Piggins

  dear" Dorothy bent coaxingly over him "surely you remember

  Ozma and the Wizard and Glinda." Instead of answering at once, Pigasus

  stared thoughtfully at his reflection in the pool.

 "Suppose you sit on my back, and then we can talk without being heard," he

  suggested brightly. "Up in the air we can air our views in safety, as it

  were."

 "To tell the truth, I don't much care where I go now," sighed Dorothy,

  seating herself disconsolately on the pig's broad back.

 "Hey, Hey, we're bewitched and enchanted, I knew it! With you on my back, I

  can think and see through it!" squealed Pigasus, and flapping his huge

  wings, he soared high over the flowering plum trees in Ozma's garden.

 "Of course Ozma's Queen, not this big Skamperoo. The Ruler of Oz and the

  whole royal crew

 Have been kidnapped, bewitched or put out of the way We'll fly off for

  help, and we'll start right away."

 "Oh, Piggins!" Dorothy threw both arms round the pig's neck and almost wept

  for joy:

 "Oh Pigasus, to think you remember them, too, But where have they gone? What

  in Oz shall we do?"

 "We'll find them, wherever they are they'll be found, But we'd best make our

  plans with our feet on the ground," muttered Pigasus, looking below for a

  likely spot to land.

 There was one disadvantage about Pigasus, though some did not regard it as

  such. Like the winged horse Pegasus, whoever caught him and rode on his

  back at once became a poet and unable to speak anything but rhymes. The

  poetic pig could not only tell what they were thinking, but he often spoke

  his own mind in verse as well. At times this grew terribly tiresome, but

  except for his jingles, a more cheerful, loyal, little fellow could not be

  found in the length or breadth of the country. Raised and bred by the Red

  Jinn, he had been given to the Duke of Dork. The Duke had given him to the

  Philadelphia boy Peter, who in the course of a voyage with Samuel Salt, the

  Pirate, had captured the Duke's splendid castle boat. The capture had been

  quite a social and friendly affair, and the Duke had traded Pigasus for a

  Bananny Goat. Peter had later brought the flying pig to the Emerald City,

  where he was petted and admired by the whole court. Now, slanting down into

  a quiet grove, Pigasus came to a gentle stop, and Dorothy tumbled off his

  back.

 "Oh, Pigasus, isn't it lucky you were in the Emerald City? Nobody else can

  remember Ozma or the others at all."

 "And I only remembered them because you sat on my back," confessed the pig,

  twitching his nose thoughtfully. "It was my thought-reading gift that did

  the trick, and I am more than ever convinced that we are under some

  mischievous spell or enchantment. What I don't understand, my dear, is how

  you yourself escaped or chanced to remember things as they were. You know,

  before I came out here, it seemed perfectly right and natural for that roly

  poly pudding of an Emperor to be sitting at the head of the table. I knew

  no more about Ozma or Glinda or my former master Jinnicky than a newborn

  baby. By the way, Jinnicky's gone too, isn't he?"

 "Yes," Dorothy shook her head sorrowfully, "and without him or the Wizard to

  help, we'll have a hard time, I guess. What shall we do first, Piggins?"

 "How about having a try at some of the Wizard's magic?" proposed the pink

  pig daringly. "Then we might look in Ozma's magic picture and ask it to

  show us where all of our missing friends are now."

 "Now why didn't I think of that myself?" cried Dorothy, and springing up she

  started off on a run.

 "Wait! Wait!" grunted Pigasus, pattering breathlessly after her. "Remember,

  we must be very careful, my dear. No questions about Ozma, no remarks that

  will arouse the anger of this scalawag Emperor, or we'll both be clapped in

  a dungeon. We must pretend that we have forgotten, too, and get away

  quietly later tonight."

 This seemed so sensible a plan, Dorothy readily agreed to it, and without

  attracting any attention at all they re-entered the palace and hurried

  immediately to Ozma's small sitting room. But if they expected the magic

  picture to solve their problem, they were soon doomed to disappointment.

  The picture was gone from its accustomed place, and the safe where Ozma

  kept her magic treasures and other valuables was wide open and quite empty.

  A quick search of the Wizard's laboratory proved equally discouraging. The

  Wizard's famous black bag was nowhere in sight, the little hanging closet

  where he stored his transformation powders and wishing pills was bare as

  the cupboard of old Mother Hubbard.

 "Whoever planned this thought of everything," wheezed Pigasus, sitting

  heavily back on his haunches. "There is nothing here for us, Dorothy. If I

  were you, I'd get a few things together, and we'll leave right away before

  anyone misses you." From the cheers, shouts and hilarious singing coming

  from the banquet hall it seemed probably that the celebration would go on

  for hours. No one in that gay and foolish company even thought of or missed

  the little girl and the pink pig stealing so quietly through the dim halls

  of the palace.

 "Ozma's palace," reflected Dorothy, looking resentfully over her shoulder;

  but now it seemed strange, alien and completely unfriendly. With a little

  shiver, Dorothy drew her cloak more closely about her and stepped

  resolutely out into the night. Pigasus pattered on ahead, snorting a bit

  from sheer nervousness.

 "Maybe we'd better fly," he grunted uneasily as Dorothy caught up with him.

  "It's safer, and it's faster, and the faster we get away from here, the

  better, I'm thinking."

 "I've been thinking, too," answered Dorothy in a low voice, "perhaps only

  the people in the Emerald City are under this forgetting spell, Pigasus;

  perhaps if we fly to the Winkie Country, the Winkies will remember their

  Emperor, the Tin Woodman, and will help us raise an army so we can come

  back, conquer this old Skamperoo, and make him tell where he has hidden all

  the proper rulers of Oz and the other celebrities."

 "That's the talk! That's the talk!" approved the pig, twinkling his little

  blue eyes joyfully. "Up with you, up with you, my girl, but remember, if

  you grow sleepy, let me know at once, so I can descend. If you fall asleep,

  you might fall off my back, and think how I'd feel then."

 "Think how I'd feel!" laughed Dorothy, her spirits lifting a little at

  the pink pig's comical conversation and enthusiastic seconding of her

  plans. Seating herself carefully on his plump back, she quickly gave the

  signal to start. Then up soared Pigasus, over the palace gardens, over the

  City Walls and away toward the East and the Yellow Lands of the Winkies.

 "Oh, I believe everything is going to be all right," thought Dorothy,

  settling herself cozily between his wings.

 "So do I," sniffed the pink pig, peering mischievously over his shoulder.

 "I forgot you could read all the thoughts, Goodness Gracious!

 Of those on your back, Do you mind it, Pigasus?"

 "Now when they're nice thoughts like yours," puffed the little pig in answer

  to Dorothy's surprised rhyme, and winking his eye jovially, he zoomed like

  a pink Zeppelin through the sky.

 CHAPTER 9

 THE JOURNEY BEGINS

 For several hours Pigasus flew without slackening his pace. Then, as several

  suspicious little yawns and sighs floated past his keen, upstanding ears,

  he solemnly slanted downward. If he had chosen it on purpose, he could not

  have found a more comfortable place for Dorothy to spend the night. They

  had already crossed the border and penetrated far into the Land of the

  Winkies and were now landing in the quiet garden of a prosperous Winkie

  farmer. Set in the center of a dancing bed of yellow daffodils and tulips

  stood a small summerhouse, and with Dorothy rubbing her eyes sleepily,

  Pigasus trotted briskly into the rustic cottage. The door was invitingly

  open, and the moon lit up its cozy one-roomed interior. Snorting with

  satisfaction, Pigasus pattered over to a broad couch piled high with yellow

  cushions, and rolling drowsily from his back, Dorothy burrowed contentedly

  into the center of them, falling asleep before the pig reached his own bed,

  a soft, woolly rug on the hearth.

 Pigasus slept lightly but well, and waking around six began to gaze rather

  anxiously at the round yellow farm buildings just visible from the door.

  The pink pig had had several unfortunate experiences with farmers. They had

  a way of looking at his plump body that seemed to reduce him at once to

  slices of bacon and sides of ham. One enterprising fellow had actually

  caught him and shut him up in an untidy pen. From this foolish prison

  Pigasus had escaped by spreading his wings and flying away, but the mere

  mention of farmer gave him the shivers.

 So now, moving impatiently about the little room, he waited for Dorothy to

  awaken, and as she continued to slumber on, he flew up over the mantel and

  swept a large yellow jug to the floor with his wing. The crash of the

  falling jar aroused Dorothy at once, and without stopping to explain,

  Pigasus suggested that they start off, and Dorothy, not even noticing the

  broken jug, readily consented.

 "We'll probably find a much better place to have breakfast as we fly along,"

  murmured Pigasus as Dorothy seated herself between his wings, holding her

  small basket of supplies in her lap.

 "Would it do any harm to stop at the farm And enquire about Ozma and spread

  the alarm?" asked Dorothy, who had rather counted on a cheerful breakfast

  at the farmhouse.

 "No, it wouldn't do any harm," answered Pigasus, rising in a straight line

  from the tulip bed and winging rapidly over the yellow fields and fences,

  "but neither would it do any good. Farmers never know what's happening or

  going to happen. I tell you, though, we'll ask the first person we meet."

 "Who would we meet in the air but a bird? Now really, Pigasus, that's simply

  absurd."

 "Some of the smartest people I know are birds," insisted the pig stoutly.

  "Take Roger, for instance. He knows more than most of have forgotten. But

  look! A brook, a quiet wood! Stop! Listen! Look! For I crave food!" Making

  a swift downward curve, Pigasus landed cleverly by a rippling stream edged

  by some tall butternut trees. There were yellow raspberries along the bank,

  and the berries, with some of the sandwiches Dorothy had brought with her,

  washed down by cool water from the brook, made a splendid breakfast.

 "I wonder whether they'll have the tableaux and pageant without me," sighed

  Dorothy, biting slowly into a sardine sandwich, "and how they manage the

  circus without you, Piggins, or the picnic supper without Ozma, or the

  magic and fireworks without the Wizard."

 "They've probably forgotten all about today's doings," mumbled Pigasus,

  nosing busily among the leaves for ripe butternuts. They'll probably spend

  the time bumping their noses on the floor when that fat Emperor comes

  waddling through the palace and bending the right knee every time his white

  horse sneezes or coughs. Pah!" Choking with indignation, Pigasus began

  gobbling up so many butternuts, Dorothy feared he would never be able to

  fly or walk again.

 "Let's stay on the ground for a while," she proposed, eyeing him rather

  nervously as she packed the remaining sandwiches neatly back in the basket.

  "I believe there's a path beyond those trees. Maybe it leads to a town or

  village where we may meet someone who can tell us what we want to know."

 "You don't expect to find out where Ozma and the others are hidden straight

  off, do you?" Rubbing his back lazily against one of the butternut trees,

  Pigasus looked quizzically at his earnest little companion.

 "No, I don't really expect that," said Dorothy, slipping the basket over her

  arm, "but it would be pretty nice if we met somebody who even remembered

  them after all we've been through."

 "I can hardly remember them myself unless you are sitting on my back,"

  admitted the pink pig, trotting soberly along at her side. "This Emperor's

  magic must be strong medicine. Hello! Here comes a fisherman." Pigasus

  pricked up both ears and his wings. "Shall I question him, or will you?"

 Without bothering to answer, Dorothy ran eagerly toward the tall Winkie who

  was coming leisurely along the path. He carried a basket and had a fishing

  rod over his shoulder, and though his clothes were rough, Dorothy could

  tell by his manner and bearing that he was a person of some importance.

 "Oh, please, Mr. Winkie," cried the little girl as he nodded politely and

  would have passed them without stopping, "could you tell us who is King

  here?"

 "King?" answered the fisherman, taking his pipe out of his mouth and looking

  kindly down at his small questioner. "Why, no one in particular, my dear,

  but of course we Winkies and the inhabitants of the three other countries

  of Oz are governed from the capital by Emperor Skamperoo, a great fellow,

  our Emp, and have you seen his white horse?"

 "Yes, I've seen it," said Dorothy, shutting her mouth rather grimly.

 "But I thought Ozma was Queen," wheezed Pigasus, out of breath from running

  after Dorothy and too many butternuts.

 "Ozma? What a curious name," mused the fisherman, looking pensively at the

  winged pig. "What gave you the idea that Ozma was our ruler? Perhaps you

  are strangers here."

 "Well, it would seem so," puffed Pigasus, sitting down and panting a little

  from sheer discouragement.

 "Oh, you'll get used to us," laughed the fisherman with a breezy wave. "Fine

  country, this; sorry I can't show you 'round, but as I've promised my wife

  some fish for dinner, I'll have to be moving along. Good day to you. Good

  day, little girl!"

 "Good day," echoed Dorothy in a rather flat voice as the fisherman, lifting

  his hat, strode briskly into the wood. "You see!" she groaned. "Even here

  everyone is bewitched. Oh, Piggins, what'll we do? No one in Oz will help

  or believe us."

 "Goose-tea and turnips! What if they don't!" Pigasus shook his head

  impatiently. "There are other countries, aren't there? Take Ev, for

  instance, or Rinkitink, or the Rose Kingdom. Why, there are lots of places

  whose rulers will remember Ozma, my poor old friend Jinnicky, and the

  others. Come along, my girl, we've only just started.

 "While people roar for the Emperor We'll seek our rightful ruler

 >From coast to coast, from door to door Though foes grow cruel and crueller!"

 "What we need is some magic," finished Pigasus shrewdly. "Know a good place

  to look for some?"

 "The Gnome King has plenty of magic," reflected Dorothy, leaning

  thoughtfully against a tree, and Ozma and I really helped put him on the

  throne, so surely he'll help us."

 "Well, maybe, but I don't set great store by gnomes. They're tricky;

  nevertheless, we'll go to Ev and everywhere else till we restore this

  country to its proper rulers." Pigasus looked so impressive with his chest

  and cheeks puffed out with purpose, Dorothy gave him a quick hug. "Down

  with the Emperor!" snorted Pigasus, though almost suffocated by Dorothy's

  embrace. "And up with you, my patriotic young Princess."

 "Now you make me feel like a real one. I'd almost forgotten I was a

  Princess," smiled Dorothy, climbing obediently on his back. "I believe

  everything will be better from now on."

 "Well, it could be a lot worse," chuckled Pigasus, and flapping his wings in

  a businesslike manner, he rose gracefully into the air and headed for the

  east. Rolling hills dotted with castles, villages and towns, valleys,

  farmlands and forests flashed in an ever-changing, pleasant panorama below.

  At noon they came down beside the Winkie River, finished up the rest of the

  sandwiches for lunch, and then looked eagerly around for someone else to

  question. But the yellow-bearded ferryman who presently came into sight

  poling his old-fashioned raft across the turbulent river knew no more of

  Ozma and the other rulers of Oz than the fisherman. But he told them many

  long and boring stories of Skamperoo and his white horse, Chalk. Dorothy

  and Pigasus had to make such an effort to listen politely, they were

  relieved when he finally shoved off and began poling himself back to the

  other side.

 "Have you any idea how far we've come?" asked Pigasus, rolling over and over

  in the cool grass as Dorothy made a face at the ferryman's back.

 "Yes," said Dorothy, dropping full length beside him. "This river is in

  about the center of the Winkie Kingdom, so we are easily half way. We could

  reach the Deadly Desert by night, fly over tomorrow morning, and either go

  North to Ev or stop at the underground castle of the Gnome King. Even if he

  won't lend us his army, he might lend us some magic."

 "Speaking of armies, they must have whisked the soldier with the green

  whiskers off with the others. I don't remember seeing him after he left the

  banquet hall, do you? Which just goes to show this Skamperoo must be a

  stranger to Oz, for who else would have been afraid of our precious old

  army? Why, he wouldn't even tread on a caterpillar. By the way, has Kaliko

  any magic that might tell us where to look for our vanished friends and

  rulers?"

 "I'm not sure of that," Dorothy told him dubiously, "but he was a wizard,

  and Ruggedo, who was King before Kaliko, had many magic treasures and

  powers. He could make floors and walls spin round and round, open yawning

  caverns at your feet, or drop rocks down on your head without even moving."

 "Sounds lovely," sniffed Pigasus, coming to his feet with a short grunt.

  "Say, haven't we trouble enough at home without going to look for it? Do

  you really propose to visit this tricky little metal monarch?"

 "But Kaliko is not nearly so bad as Ruggedo." Dorothy sat up and smoothed

  her dress earnestly.

 "Well, just as you wish." Pigasus shrugged his wings. "With me, people are

  like eggs, either good or bad. There's no such thing as a nearly good egg;

  it's got to be completely good, or it's just as bad as a bad egg. D'ye see?

  And if this Gnome King is only as good as a nearly fresh egg, I wouldn't

  trust him with my second-best toothbrush. My idea would be to go to the

  ruler of Ev."

 "That's Evardo, a boy King. Ozma helped him, too," Dorothy explained

  importantly. "But I tell you, Piggins, let's not decide till we cross the

  Deadly Desert. Something might turn up before then. You never can tell."

 "No," agreed the pig, shaking his head sagely. "In Oz, you never can.

  Suppose we continue a ways on foot? My wings are a bit stiff, and we really

  should be on the lookout for a friendly house or castle where we could have

  supper and spend the night. I could eat a peck of spinach or a bushel of

  apples right now, so hop up, my dear, and I'll stretch a leg for the good

  of the coz and Oz!" Chattering away like the good fellow he was, Pigasus

  trotted briskly across the fields and presently came to a deep, rustling

  forest. "Shall we fly over or walk through?" questioned the pig, sniffing

  appreciatively the cool air drifting out to them.

 "Let's go through it, in a wood There might be witches, some are good.

 A good witch with her magic powers Could solve this mystery of ours!"

 "But suppose we meet a bad one," muttered Pigasus, stepping gingerly into

  the forest and picking his way with great care between the giant trees.

 "Then we'll say goodbye and simply fly," laughed Dorothy, snapping her

  fingers joyfully.

 "Yes, but flying would not be so easy in here," objected Pigasus with a

  troubled glance aloft. "These branches are interlocked so closely I'd stick

  in a tree like a kite."

 "Oh, we probably won't meet anyone," said Dorothy. Slipping off his back,

  she walked along beside him, one arm flung cozily around his neck. She was

  rather tired of making verses and thought she could think better if her

  head were not continually buzzing with rhymes. After the hot, sunny

  meadows, the cool shade of the forest was very welcome, but as they

  advanced farther and farther into the shadows, it grew so dark and grim the

  two began to look at each other in real alarm.

 "Must be a squall or thundershower brewing," observed Pigasus in a faint

  voice.

 "Yes, it couldn't be nighttime so soon," agreed Dorothy, looking fearfully

  over her shoulder. The crackling of twigs as some large animal made its way

  through the brush sounded like gunfire, and while they were trying to make

  up their minds whether to run back or push forward, a long, hollow roar

  sent them skittering forward practically as one. Missing trees by mere

  inches, they pelted at breakneck speed into the dense and even gloomier

  stretch of woodland ahead.

 "B-b-b-better climb on my back," directed Pigasus, halting at last from lack

  of breath rather than inclination.

 "But where are you? I can't even see you!" wailed Dorothy, feeling about

  wildly.

 "Here, here," grunted the frantic pig, making short dashes in four or five

  directions and finally bumping violently into the groping little girl.

 Snatching at a wing, Dorothy pulled herself thankfully up and clasped both

  arms round his neck. In a tense and breathless silence they waited for it

  to grow lighter. They could not see even an inch before their noses now,

  and the darkness and silence grew more oppressive and unbearable every

  minute.

 "J-j-j-just a cloud passing over," croaked Pigasus, trying to keep his teeth

  from chattering. "J-j-j-j Say, what's that? Dorothy, do you hear

  anything? F-f-footsteps not four, TWO. Someone's coming. Hello, there.

  Who are you? Watch out now, we're here."

 "I see you," answered a flat, matter-of-fact voice.

 "Oh! He sees us, yet we can't see him, I'm frightened deaf and dumb,

 Oh, try to fly, Pigasus, why Oh why'd we ever come?"

 "That's what I'd like to know," went on the voice sternly. "Now, then, will

  you come quietly, or must I drag you along?"

 CHAPTER 10

 THE WITCH OF THE BLACK FOREST

 Dorothy and her companion were too stunned to answer, and in two thumping

  steps the owner of the voice was upon them. "Do you dare to defy a member

  of the Invincible Black Watch?" breathed the stranger, grasping Pigasus

  roughly by the right wing.

 "No! No! We don't exactly defy you," squealed the pig, flapping his other

  wing frantically, "but how can we follow a blackguard whom we cannot even

  see?"

 "Then how do you know I am a blackguard?" demanded their captor

  suspiciously.

 "From your voice," screamed Pigasus, jerking this way and that way in an

  effort to free himself. "I'd know you for a blackguard anywhere. Unhand me,

  you surly black monster."

 "You talk a lot for a fellow who cannot see," scoffed the Guard, tightening

  his grip on the pig's wing. "Is the girl blind, too?"

 "We're not blind at all, and why should we be, In this horrid black forest

  how could we see?" cried Dorothy, her indignation getting the better of her

  fright.

 "Well, what color are your eyes?" Dorothy felt the hot breath of the

  Guardsman on her neck as he leaned over to find out for himself. "Blue!" he

  murmured in evident puzzlement. "And the pig's eyes are blue, too. So

  that's the reason."

 "What has the color to do with it?" grunted Pigasus, growing a little calmer

  as the conversation progressed without either of them coming to actual

  harm.

 "Everything," explained the Guard impressively. "In the Black Forest one

  must have black eyes to see. See? Even a pig should know that."

 "Well, I suppose I could run into a tree and black my eyes," sniffed Pigasus

  bitterly. "But thank you, no. I prefer blue eyes, and now, if you will

  kindly conduct us to the edge of this deep, dark, dangerous and disgusting

  domain, we'll be delighted to go, leave, depart, and bid you farewell

  forever."

 "Oh, keep all that for Gloma," drawled the Guard indifferently. "I'm a plain

  man and prefer plain language. Furthermore, no one leaves this forest

  unless they break the black laws. If you break the law, you are cast out

  into the utter and awful light of eternal day. Now then, come along!" and

  giving the pig's wing a cruel tweak, he tramped doggedly forward. Pigasus,

  to save his precious feathers, was obliged to come, suiting his gait to the

  guard's strides.

 "The best thing for us to do is to break the law at once," he whispered

  mournfully to Dorothy as he blinked about in a desperate effort to

  penetrate the gloom. Dorothy was too depressed to answer, and after

  clearing his throat several times, the Blackguard began to question

  Pigasus.

 "Why the wings?" he asked inquiringly. "I've seen many a farmyard creature

  in my day, but never a pig with wings. Are you a pig or a kind of balcony

  bird? What right has a pig to wings?"

 "Let go and I'll show you," puffed Pigasus, hoping the fellow's curiosity

  would cause him to loosen his hold. But the Guard only laughed at such an

  idea.

 "Let you go? I should say not," he exclaimed with a little chuckle. "You can

  show all your little tricks to Gloma, and she can decide whether to ride or

  roast you. This girl on your back will make a splendid slave."

 "Slave!" shrilled Pigasus, stumbling angrily along in the dark. "I'll have

  you know that she is a Princess of Oz and lives in the palace of Ozma of

  Oz."

 "Then why did she not stay there?" observed the Guard reasonably enough.

  "Anyone coming into this forest comes under the rule of Gloma, Witch of the

  Black Forest."

 "Witch?" coughed the pig as Dorothy, tightening her clutch on his neck,

  almost choked him.

 "Yes, witch," repeated the forester calmly. "Now then, hold up your heads,

  you pale and pinky skins, for you are in for a good blacking." And before

  Pigasus knew just what WAS happening, the ground slipped away from under

  him and he and Dorothy were plunged into the rough, chilly waters of a

  tumbling forest stream. Striking out with all four feet, Pigasus managed to

  breast the flood, when he felt himself and Dorothy being forced completely

  under. As a matter of fact, the Guard swimming beside him had simply put

  his hand on Dorothy's head and pushed her and the squealing pig beneath the

  surface. As they rose, gasping and sputtering, he again seized Pigasus by

  the wing and pulled him quickly to shore.

 "There, now you're all right," he boomed heartily as Dorothy rolled off the

  pig's back and began shaking the water from her eyes and hair and wringing

  out her dripping skirts. "Just blot yourselves on the bank!"

 "Bl-blot ourselves?" gurgled Pigasus, giving himself a violent shake. "Do

  you take us for letters? You you'll be sorry for this!" But right in

  the middle of his angry sputters, he gave a loud and astonished squall.

  "Dorothy, Dorothy, I can see!" panted the pink pig exultantly.

 "So can I," cried Dorothy, running excitedly toward him. "But everything

  looks black. Everything IS black, even you. Oh, Oh! You're perfectly coal

  black, Piggins. Am I black, too?"

 "Of course," answered the Guard in a bored voice, "and much better so. Since

  you are black yourselves, you can see in the dark like the rest of us, and

  what do you think of our forest now?" But Dorothy, instead of telling him,

  held up her shiny black hands, touched a few strands of her perfectly black

  hair, and then, dropping her head on the pig's shoulder, began to weep

  bitterly. Like drops of ink, the tears coursed down her ebony cheeks, and

  though Pigasus did what he could to comfort her, she continued to sob as if

  her heart would break.

 "Well, I must say I call this ungrateful," the Guard shifted from one foot

  to the other. "What's the matter with you, anyway? Black is a splendid

  color, doesn't show dirt, doesn't fade or streak. Besides, it's against the

  law to be any other color in this forest."

 "How dare you blacken us against our will?" burst out Pigasus furiously.

  "Wait till I get loose, I'll Why, I'll tear you to pieces20and pitch

  you into a tar barrel."

 "Oh, don't make me snort!" The huge Black Forester stared contemptuously

  down at the winged pig, and now that Pigasus had a better look at him, he

  saw the folly of his threats, for the Black Guard was well over six feet

  and lean and tough as black leather. Evidently feeling he had wasted enough

  time on the pair, he gave them a very black look, and jerking the pig's

  wing roughly, started walking stolidly through the forest. Never had

  Dorothy felt so blue or rather so black and blue so wet, so

  discouraged, so thoroughly miserable! And when, sticking out her tongue to

  see if it was still pink she discovered that it, too, was black, she began

  sobbing softly to herself.

 "No one will know us anymore," she decided dejectedly. "We're as badly off

  now as Ozma and the others. Why, oh why, did we ever come into this

  terrible forest?" She could feel Pigasus sniffing with sympathy, and

  suddenly realizing that she was not behaving very well, she straightened

  up. After all, she was still a Princess, even though she was black.

  Princesses did not cry even when they were captured and enchanted. Ozma was

  probably in a worse fix than this, and if Ozma was being brave, she would

  be brave too. So with a great effort, Dorothy stifled her sobs and began to

  look around her. To her surprise and astonishment, she discovered that the

  Black Forest was not dark and gloomy as it had seemed before, but really

  quite beautiful. There were many shades and degrees of blackness in the

  trees and flowers that thickly carpeted the ground.

 Black birds twittered musically in the branches overhead, and every now and

  then a deer peered timidly out at her from the woodsy depths between the

  tree trunks. The Guard, glancing over his shoulder and catching her

  interested expression, ventured a smile.

 "Why, he is not bad looking at all," thought Dorothy with a pleased start.

  "And maybe this witch may be a good witch her name sounds rather

  pretty." Quite comforted by these reflections, Dorothy whispered a few

  rhymed remarks in the pig's ear. Pigasus, it must be confessed, was as

  interested in what he saw as Dorothy, and when a sudden break between the

  trees revealed a great, black, circular wall with a hundred black flags

  floating from its many turrets, he gave an involuntary grunt of admiration.

 "You are about to enter the Royal Circle of Gloma, Witch of the Black

  Forest," announced the Guard, raising his hand solemnly. "I trust you will

  conduct yourselves in a fitting manner."

 "Don't worry about OUR manners," shrilled Pigasus, tossing his head airily.

  "We are accustomed to Royalty and move in exclusive circles at home."

 "And talk in circles, too," muttered the Guard impatiently. "Well, well, do

  the best you can and bow three times as you approach the throne."

 "Throne?" queried Dorothy, slipping off the pig's back so she would not have

  to talk in rhyme, for what she had to say to the black witch was very

  serious indeed. "Is Gloma a Queen?"

 "Certainly our witch is a Queen, a bewitching Queen," retorted the Guard,

  taking Dorothy firmly by the hand and tightening his hold on Pigasus. "Now

  then, smile and look pleasant, and perhaps she'll allow you to be her

  slave."

 "She wouldn't dare make me a slave," cried Dorothy, trying her best to pull

  away from her captor.

 "Just let her try it!" blustered Pigasus, scuffling unwillingly along on the

  other side. But paying no attention to their struggles, the Guard lifted

  his foot and kicked three times on a black ebony door in the wall, and a

  tall Watchman dressed in a black leather suit admitted them to the Royal

  Circle. It was all so different from what Dorothy had been expecting, she

  almost forgot her anger. Enclosed by the black marble wall was a strange

  and enchanting garden. Now Dorothy had never seen a black garden or dreamed

  one could be so beautiful. Here sable willows mirrored their feathery

  branches in long, shining pools; here black plum and cherry trees flaunted

  their fragile black blossoms, and jet-black fountains sent their smoking

  waters high into the quiet air. Vast satiny expanses of lawn were dotted

  with a hundred beds of dusky roses, tulips, velvety pansies and daffodils.

 Built all round the circular wall was a low but sumptuous black castle, and

  seated on an ebony throne in the center of her stately black garden was the

  Black Queen herself, looking, Dorothy was thankful to discover, much more

  like a Queen than a witch. Gloma's face was sweet and serious, her hair

  fine and glossy as a raven's wing. She was dressed in a trailing robe black

  chiffon that billowed in lacy clouds round her feet. A sparkling crown of

  jet and long jet earrings were her only ornaments. On each side of the

  Black Queen crouched a sleek black leopard, and behind the ebony throne

  stood ten tall foresters with gleaming axes. "Like headsmen in a medieval

  history book," thought Dorothy as she and Pigasus were dragged rapidly

  forward. Gloma, gazing dreamily into a black crystal set on a marble stand

  before the throne, seemed entirely unaware of their presence till the harsh

  voice of the Black Guard announced them.

 "Hail! Black and Imperial Majesty!" called the Guard deferentially,

  approaching the throne. "Two prisoners, a pig and a Princess, whom I found

  wandering unlawfully in our forest and whom I took the liberty of

  blacking."

 Dorothy, jerking away from the Guard, was about to explain how she and

  Pigasus had lost their way when Gloma jumped to her feet with a sharp,

  agonized scream. "Blotz, General Blotz, what have you done?" panted the

  Black Queen, beating her hands wildly together. "Your stupidity has ruined

  us all! You have blackened and insulted my most dangerous and mortal enemy!

  Leave! Go! Begone and never darken my doors again! Oh why, why did you do

  it? Why have you brought her here? After all these years must I too be

  destroyed and obliterated?" Sinking back on her throne, Gloma covered her

  face with her hair and began rocking backward and forward in agitation and

  sorrow.

 "Why, why I believe she's afraid of you!" puffed Pigasus, twitching his

  tail with excitement and interest as General Blotz, looking quite dazed,

  began to move unhappily toward the gate in the wall.

 "Quick!" he grunted as the ten foresters back of the throne rushed forward

  to surround them. "Do something, Dorothy, while she is still afraid of you.

  Make her unblacken us. Tell her to set us free. Hurry! Hurry, before she

  discovers you are only a harmless little girl." But Dorothy, only half

  listening to the pig, boldly thrust aside the foresters and ran over to the

  Black Queen.

 "Why are you afraid of ME?" asked Dorothy, speaking rapidly but distinctly.

  "I did not come here on purpose. Pigasus and I are lost and need your

  help."

 "Help?" shivered Gloma, shrinking as far away from Dorothy as possible. "Why

  should I help you? Are you not Dorothy, the mortal girl who destroyed the

  powerful Witches of the East and West?"

 "But that was long ago," explained Dorothy breathlessly as two of the

  Queen's henchmen seized her roughly by the arms. "And they were bad and

  wicked witches. Why should I wish to destroy such a good and beautiful

  witch like you?"

 "Do not listen to her. Do not let her touch you. She means to destroy and

  ensnare you," hissed the foresters as they dragged Dorothy away from the

  throne. "Down with all mortals! Away to the dungeons with her! Wing that

  pig! Chop off their heads!" At these loud, savage cries, startled faces

  appeared at the windows of the black palace, and struggling in the midst of

  the foresters Dorothy heartily wished she had taken the pig's advice.

 "Shall we take off her head now or later?" puffed the fellow who had

  hold of her left arm.

 "Now!" roared the axman who had hold of her right.

 "Stop!" commanded the Queen, rising suddenly. "You cannot harm this girl. Do

  you not see the star of protection on her forehead?" At these words the

  woodsmen stared fearfully down at Dorothy, and sure enough, shining in the

  center of her black forehead was a pure white star. Pigasus, who had not

  noticed it before himself, gave a grunt of relief and began kicking out in

  every direction.

 "How about the pig?" yelled a forester, leaning down to rub his shins.

  "Shall we take off his head?"

 "If you dare touch Pigasus," screamed Dorothy, resolved to use all the

  powers she was supposed to have, "I'll turn you all to bats and beetles and

  horrid black ants." A breathless silence followed Dorothy's threat. The

  foresters still kept their hold on the prisoner, but at as great a distance

  as they could manage.

 "Do as you wish, comrades," the tallest of the axmen solemnly broke the

  silence, "but I'm for letting them alone. I've never been an ant before and

  don't intend to begin now. Come, away to the dungeons with them. This is

  not for us to settle with axes, it is a case for witch work."

 "You are right." The Queen, who had been standing motionless as a statue,

  took a decisive step forward. "Take them away, but not to the dungeons!

  Take them to the darkroom in my imperial palace. They shall see what

  happens to those who defy Gloma, Witch of the Black Forest."

 "Aye! Aye! They shall see," muttered the foresters, pushing Dorothy and

  Pigasus roughly along ahead of them.

 CHAPTER 11

 BLACK MAGIC

 Dorothy and Pigasus were hustled into the Black Castle, rushed down its

  shiny black corridors and thrust into a great, dark, dome-shaped room so

  quickly they had no opportunity to exchange a word.

 "Well, anyway, even if it is a darkroom, we can still see," whispered

  Dorothy as the foresters in their haste to get away from such dangerous

  prisoners fairly tumbled over each other to get through the door.

 "Yes," puffed Pigasus glumly as the key rasped in the lock, "and the first

  thing I see is that there are no windows. If there was a window we could

  fly off. As it is, this witch will make short work of us."

 "I wonder how much magic she really knows," sighed Dorothy, seating herself

  wearily on a black velvet20stool.

 "I wonder!" said Pigasus, flinging himself crossly on the floor beside her.

  "And what's all this stuff about your being her worst enemy? Did you really

  destroy two witches, and could you destroy her?" Although Pigasus had lived

  in the Emerald City for several years, he was not familiar with all of the

  history that had taken place before his arrival.

 "Oh, all that happened when I first came here," explained Dorothy, clasping

  her knees with both hands. "You see, when the cyclone blew me from Kansas

  to Oz, my house fell on the wicked witch who ruled the Munchkins and killed

  her. The Munchkins, supposing I had done it on purpose, came out and

  thanked me and gave me the witch's silver shoes. Then, when I reached the

  Emerald City and begged the Wizard, who was ruler of Oz at that time, to

  send me back to Kansas, he promised to do so if I killed the wicked witch

  who ruled the Winkies."

 "And did you?" asked Pigasus, rolling over and looking up at Dorothy with

  real admiration.

 "Well, that was sort of an accident, too," admitted the little girl

  honestly. "When the Tin Woodman, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion and I

  reached the witch's yellow castle, the witch captured us all and made me

  work hard from morning till night. But one day," Dorothy with an anxious

  eye on the door hurriedly continued, "one day when she tried to steal my

  silver shoes, I got SO mad I picked up a bucket of water I'd been using for

  scrubbing and flung it right over her head."

 "And did that destroy her?" Pigasus demanded incredulously.

 "Yes," said Dorothy, "it melted her down to nothing at all."

 "But what about the star? I never noticed that before."

 "That's where the Good Witch of the North comes in," answered Dorothy

  proudly. "Right after my house fell on the Wicked Witch of the West, she

  appeared, and when she discovered I was a mortal, she kissed me on the

  forehead to keep me from harm all the time I was in Oz. It only shows now

  because I'm black, I suppose."

 "Well, why didn't it keep you from turning black, if it's so wonderful?"

  Pigasus switched his curly tail resentfully.

 "I don't know." Dorothy looked thoughtfully around Gloma's strange

  laboratory. "Maybe the spell has worn off; maybe there's no harm in being

  black."

 "Humph! There may not be any harm in it, but it's pretty sad and mournful,

  if you ask me," grunted Pigasus, glaring savagely at his satiny black

  sides. "I prefer myself pink and you pink and white the way you were. Tea

  and turnips, first thing I know you'll be powdering your nose with ashes

  and soot! But, after all" Pigasus swung himself energetically to

  his feet "that is the least of our troubles. What do you suppose

  this witch will do to us now? And what can we do to her? Sa-hay!" Spreading

  his wings, Pigasus spun round in a triumphant circle. "All we have to do is

  to find some water. Why, it's simple as soup. Quick, Dorothy, look and see

  whether there is any water around here, then as soon as Gloma pops her nose

  in the door, we'll put her out as neatly as you did that other witch."

 "But those other witches were bad, and Gloma seems really good and

  beautiful," objected Dorothy, looking around without much enthusiasm.

 "Beautiful or not, she's a dark and dangerous lady," insisted the pig,

  beginning his search in a methodical way, "and it's her beauty or ours,

  remember; this Black Queen is quite determined to destroy us if we don't

  destroy her first."

 "Yes, I suppose so," agreed Dorothy. Slowly following Pigasus, she pulled

  aside black velvet curtains, peered behind cupboards and screens, and

  looked under sofas and chairs. There were many ebony cabinets standing

  against the wall, but each one was securely locked, and except for a great

  black crystal ball on a table in the center of the room there seemed to be

  no magic apparatus at all. A dark lantern swinging from the domed ceiling

  cast its curious luminous black rays into every corner of the witch's

  laboratory. After circling the room three times, Pigasus and Dorothy were

  forced to admit there was no water of any kind or even a pail available.

 "We'll have to think of something else," grumbled the pig as Dorothy again

  sat down on her stool.

 "Are you thinking?" he demanded sharply as the little girl stared absently

  at the tips of her boots.

 "No," confessed Dorothy frankly, "I was just wondering why Gloma calls this

  a darkroom. She must know since General Blotz ducked us under the Black

  River we can see in here as well as in the forest."

 "I wouldn't be too sure of that," muttered the pig, coming over and crowding

  as close to Dorothy as he could. It almost seemed as if someone had heard

  him, for scarcely were the words out of his mouth before the dark lantern

  over their heads sputtered ominously and went out, leaving them in a

  perfectly pitch-black darkness.

 "I I I felt something like this would happen," faltered Pigasus,

  throwing his left wing protectingly around Dorothy. "Listen! Someone is

  coming."

 A light, sure footstep sounded in the passage, came closer, then a sudden

  puff of air told them that someone had opened the door.

 "Remember, Piggins dear, no matter what happens, we must be brave,"

  whispered Dorothy, trembling a little in spite of herself.

 "It's hard to be brave in the dark, but I'll do my best. Here, lean on me."

  And though the happenings of the next ten minutes were enough to try the

  courage of a dozen lions, Pigasus kept his word and never uttered a sound.

  As the two prisoners clung desperately together, the crystal on the center

  table received a sudden, shattering blow. Up spurted a perfect fountain of

  fire, coming down over Dorothy and Pigasus in a shower of red-hot sparks.

  But the sparks fell harmlessly as raindrops on the winged pig and the

  little girl, and after a great hiss and sputter went out, leaving the

  laboratory in darkness again.

 Scarcely had they recovered from this shock before a second blow was struck,

  and this time a hundred huge, hideous, black snakes came writhing out of

  the crystal, their green, glittering eyes lighting up the room with a

  terrifying, sulphurous light. The great twisting mass grew more and more

  menacing, sending out its long, curving bodies like arms to encircle them.

  This, thought Dorothy, burying her head in Pigasus' wing, was black magic

  at its worst. Now she could feel the clammy coils all around her and waited

  breathlessly to be crushed and broken. But the cold, heavy bodies seemed

  powerless and without weight, and presently they, too, slipped away and

  vanished.

 A shower of silver arrows followed the snakes and a cloud of choking green

  smoke the arrows. But each blow on the crystal only seemed to prove further

  the potency of the kiss set on Dorothy's forehead so long ago by the Good

  Witch of the North. And because she clung so tightly to Pigasus, he, too,

  came unharmed through the hair-raising ordeal. As they both, almost afraid

  to breathe, waited for the next blow on the dark crystal, a long, tremulous

  sigh came mournfully through the darkness. "It is no use," murmured a

  discouraged voice, "my black magic is of no avail. Come, then, destroy me

  if you must, but do it quickly, and I pray you will spare my people, who

  have never harmed or hurt a living soul in Oz."

 With a little thrill, Dorothy recognized the voice of the Black Queen, and

  as the dark lantern again shed its twinkling black rays over the circular

  apartment, Gloma rose and came calmly and rapidly toward them. Dorothy and

  Pigasus, who had just had their own bravery so severely tested, could not

  but admire the spirit and bravery of the Witch of the Black Forest. Even

  though she was sure she faced certain destruction, she walked proudly

  erect, her head flung back, her great mass of dusky hair billowing behind

  her.

 "Stop!" cried Dorothy, on whom the Queen's dark beauty had made a deep and

  lasting impression. "Why should we wish to destroy you? We came through the

  Yellow Wood and from there into the Black Forest, but we only wished to go

  through as quickly as possible. We are in trouble ourselves. Did you know

  that Ozma of Oz, the Wizard of Oz, the four rulers of Oz, and many others

  have vanished? There is a false Emperor on the throne in the Emerald City,

  and under the magic of his enchantment all the people have forgotten Ozma

  ever was their Queen. Pigasus and I, escaping this enchantment, are trying

  to find Ozma and someone to help us restore her to power." Dorothy spoke

  with such earnestness and feeling, Gloma could not help believing her.

 "Then then you did not come here to destroy me at all?" she exclaimed

  with an unhappy and embarrassed glance at her two prisoners. "Forgive me

  for using my magic powers, I only wanted to save myself and my foresters

  from obliteration."

 "Oh, that's all right." Dorothy dismissed with a careless shrug the danger

  and discomfort of the last hour. "You thought we were going to destroy you,

  so, of course, you tried to destroy us first. That was fair enough, and I

  don't blame you, but now that we understand each other better, perhaps you

  will help us. Do you, yourself, remember Ozma, and is your magic powerful

  enough to tell us where she is?"

 Seating herself in a chair near Dorothy's footstool, Gloma stared

  thoughtfully at the velvet carpet. "I know or remember nothing of the

  present history of Oz," she told them after a short silence. "At the time

  the Wizard of Oz ruled Oz, I ruled by royal right and inheritance the

  entire southern part of the Winkie Empire. Although the Wicked Witch of the

  East claimed dominion over the whole country, she only succeeded in

  bringing the central and northern parts under her control. We in the South

  were free, but when word came that a mortal girl had destroyed both the

  Witch of the East and the Witch of the West, I, being a witch, naturally

  supposed I would be the next one to suffer destruction. So, calling

  together the strongest and most faithful of my subjects, I begged them to

  retire with me to a safe and hidden spot where we could live in safety and

  tranquility far from the wars, dangers, and changing fortunes of the times.

  Many of my Southern Winkies cast their lot with the new order, marching off

  to the North, but many came with me, and retiring to this hidden forest, we

  cut ourselves off from all intercourse with the other Kingdoms of Oz,

  living the free and happy life of foresters and enjoying all the beauty and

  benefits of outdoor sport and activity. Of the rulers in Oz since the

  Wizard, I know nothing whatever."

 "And were you always black?" inquired Pigasus, peering inquisitively up into

  Gloma's face and wondering whether the two small, black wings on each side

  of her forehead were as useful as his own.

 "No," admitted the Queen, smiling graciously down at her plump questioner.

  "That was part of our disappearing plan; in a dark forest we were so much

  less likely to be found or discovered, so with my knowledge of the black

  arts I turned myself and my subjects as black as you now see us."

 "What a shame! What a pity!" Dorothy jumped up and perched cozily on the arm

  of the Black Queen's chair. "If you had just come to the Emerald City, we

  could have been friends all this while."

 "Why not begin now?" smiled the Queen, putting her arm affectionately round

  Dorothy's waist. "And you must not be sorry for us, for here we have been

  perfectly happy and content, and I have grown so fond of my black forest

  and castle I would not change their lovely sable for all the other colors

  in the rainbow. But tell me quickly again all that has happened in Oz, and

  perhaps I can make amends for the shabby treatment you have received at our

  hands."

 Contritely the Black Queen leaned down to pat Pigasus, and as Dorothy

  sketched in most of the important happenings in Oz since the reign of the

  Wizard, the little pig pressed closely against her side. With many

  interested nods and exclamations, Gloma listened, and when Dorothy

  described the great festival that had been planned to celebrate the

  discovery of Oz by mortals, how Ozma and all her most important visitors

  and advisers had vanished at the banquet, and a false Emperor taken

  possession of the palace, the Queen rose and walked solemnly over to the

  black crystal. But after a long look into its inky depths, Gloma turned

  sadly away.

 "My black magic cannot help you," she told them regretfully. "The rulers of

  Oz and your other friends have been enchanted by green magic, and only by

  green magic can they be released and restored to power. But I can assist

  you in other ways," added the Queen, noting the disappointed expressions on

  the faces of her two new friends. "One tap of my scepter will transport you

  to any country and here" from a drawer in the ebony table the Queen

  drew a small, black, round box "in this container you will find a

  most powerful powder of darkness. One pinch of this powder tossed into the

  air will cause a black cloud a mile square to envelop and totally darken a

  city or country. While no one in this darkened area will be able to see

  you, it will be perfectly possible for you to see them as clearly as in the

  usual daylight. In case of danger it affords a safe way of escape from the

  enemy. To dispel the cloud, you merely close the box."

 "That ought to be just the thing to use if we ever get back to the Emerald

  City," observed Pigasus, scratching his left ear with his right hind paw.

  "Why, we could swoop down on this Emperor, bind him fast, and tweak him by

  the nose before he even knew what was happening."

 "Why, so we could!" beamed Dorothy, brightening up at once. "And now, though

  of course black is a perfectly beautiful color, could you change us back to

  the colors we were when we came?" Dorothy spoke timidly, for she did not

  want to hurt Gloma's feelings.

 "As soon as you leave the forest, you will resume your natural coloring,"

  the witch assured them with a little smile. "And where, may I ask, were you

  planning to go first?"

 "Well," said Dorothy slowly, "I thought perhaps the countries outside of Oz

  might not be under this forgetting spell and that we might find in one of

  them a King who would lend us his army and help us to chase Skamperoo out

  of the Emerald City. Could you transport us as far as Ev, your Majesty?"

 "As easily as I could invite you to dinner," Gloma assured them with an

  energetic little nod, "and I hope you will not only have dinner but rest

  yourselves before you start again on your dangerous journey."

 "Pigasus Pigasus, did you hear that? She can transport us all the way to

  Ev! Didn't I tell you we might find a good witch in this forest? Now

  everything will be all right!"

 "So glad we met and got acquainted, You're not so black as you are painted!"

  chuckled Pigasus, breaking into rhyme from sheer good humor and relief.

  "And did I hear your Majesty invite us to dinner?"

 "You certainly did," said Gloma, and dropping them a little bow, she swept

  gaily through the door.

 "D'ye suppose it will be a black dinner?" whispered Pigasus, trotting

  briskly along beside Dorothy. "I've heard of light repasts, but never of

  dark ones. But I don't care. I'm hungry enough to eat tar pudding with

  cinder sauce."

 "Sh-hh!" warned Dorothy with a little laugh. "She'll hear you."

 CHAPTER 12

 FAREWELL TO THE BLACK FOREST

 Although the dinner in the Black Castle was as dark a repast as Pigasus had

  predicted, never had he or Dorothy dined more royally or partaken of more

  delicate fare. The black bean soup was followed by a black fish course,

  then came the dark meat of some superbly cooked fowl, "probably

  cinder-roosters," as Pigasus remarked in one of his humorous asides. The

  licorice was the most delicious of the vegetables, though the black

  asparagus and potatoes were appetizing, too. Black bread was served with

  the black grape salad and plum cake with black frosting with the black ices

  and blackberryade. The members of Gloma's household, now that their fear of

  Dorothy had been explained away, proved so interesting and merry, the time

  simply flew. The black lace frocks of the women and children and the soft

  leather suits of the black foresters were simple but elegant, and the Black

  Queen herself so lovely just to look at her gave one a curious thrill.

 General Blotz, recalled from banishment by Blackjack, the Queen's pet

  Jackdaw, proved a singer of no mean ability and regaled the company with

  many famous black ballads and hunting songs. Pigasus, too, contributed to

  the general fun and gaiety with some of his best songs and verses and ate

  so many slices of the black plum cake, Dorothy began to feel positively

  uneasy.

 Interesting and delightful as it all was, the little girl could not help

  thinking of Ozma and her other unfortunate and captive friends, and as the

  black banjo clock in the corner of the hall struck a musical ten, she

  lightly touched the arm of Gloma. The Black Queen had graciously placed

  Dorothy beside her.

 "I think we had better go now," whispered Dorothy earnestly. "If Pigasus

  eats any more, he'll fall asleep and we'll have to wait till morning."

  Gloma smiled and nodded understandingly then, pressing Dorothy's hand for

  "goodbye," stole quietly off to her workshop. Dorothy tried to signal

  Pigasus across the gleaming black table, but before she could catch his eye

  he had vanished, and she herself was whirling dizzily through space.

 "Maybe it would have been better to have spent the night in the castle,"

  mused Dorothy, spreading her arms like wings as she sailed through the air.

  "I don't suppose we'll be able to see in the dark now that we are out of

  the Black Forest, and goodness knows where we'll come down." There was no

  moon, and peer about as she would, Dorothy could not even catch a glimpse

  of the flying pig. "Of course," Dorothy went on conversationally to

  herself, "we could have flown all this distance on Piggins' back, but this

  is quicker and less trouble, but oh, dear, I do hope he's all right." Her

  worry about the pink pig ended rather abruptly, for at that very moment she

  began to somersault over and over in a headlong drop to the ground. A

  painful grunt as she landed assured her of the pig's presence.

 "What are you trying to do? Puncture me?" puffed Pigasus as Dorothy with an

  embarrassed little gasp of apology rolled off his back. "Such rudeness!"

  grunted her companion, scrambling to his feet with an angry snort.

  "Flinging us out of her castle as if we'd been garbage. Yes, garbage," he

  repeated, winking rapidly.

 "It was my fault," cried Dorothy, moving over to smooth out his ruffled wing

  feathers. "I asked her to transport us to Ev, and OH, PIGGINS!" By the

  light of a crooked lamp set in a crevice of the rocky path on which they

  found themselves, Dorothy regarded him rapturously. "You're pink again!"

 "Am I? Well, that's something." Waddling closer to the lamp, Pigasus

  examined himself with careful attention. "You're pink, too," he said a

  little more pleasantly, "but these magic transportations are a bit sudden,

  if you ask me, and I'm not at all sure I like this spot. Where are we,

  anyway?"

 "Oh, it's all right, and now we don't have to travel at all. We're here,"

  announced Dorothy, who had hurried on a few steps ahead.

 "And where is here?" grumbled Pigasus, following pompously, more from too

  much plum cake than from a desire to be disagreeable.

 "Why, at Kalico's Mountain!" exclaimed Dorothy, pointing excitedly to a

  small door in the rocky surface before them. "Now we don't have to decide

  between the Gnome King and the King of Ev. Since we are here, we'll try

  Kalico first."

 "Trying him is all very well, but I hope he does not try any magic on us,"

  yawned Pigasus, squinting sleepily up at the brass sign hung on the stout

  wooden door. "What does it say there?" A green lantern hung over the door,

  and by its flickering light Dorothy read slowly:

 "Back door of the Gnome King's Underground Castle. No dogs, babies or

  chickens allowed. No gold fish wanted. No peddlers or snailsmen need apply.

  Keep out and stay out. This means YOU."

 "Oh, that's all right, laughed Dorothy as Pigasus looked rather alarmed at

  the sternly worded notice. "We're not babies or chickens or goldfish, and

  Kalico's a friend of mine. Come on!" Lifting the knocker and smiling

  confidently, Dorothy knocked three times on the Gnome King's back door.

 CHAPTER 13

 IN KALICO'S CASTLE

 "What is it, Shoofenwaller?" Kalico, the thin and gray little King of the

  Gnomes, peered impatiently down from the great carved gem-studded rock that

  served him for a throne. "Shoo, go away. You know this is my hour for

  retiring! Go away, I tell you! And if you never come back, it will still be

  too soon."

 "Yes, but your MAJESTY!" While obediently backing toward the door, the

  King's Royal Chamberlain extended his arms imploringly. "Something has come

  up; the Long-Eared Hearer reports footsteps on the South Mountain. Two

  visitors are about to enter the back door of our castle."

 "Visitors!" exclaimed Kalico, getting up with an impatient flounce. "At this

  hour! Well, tell them to go away and come back tomorrow. Here, wait a

  moment." As Shoofenwaller, shrugging his narrow shoulders, turned to carry

  out his orders, Kalico changed his mind. "Just hand me my expectacles,"

  commanded the King crossly, "I may as well have a look at the prowling

  pests."

 With another shrug, Shoofenwaller stepped to a small cabinet, and taking a

  pair of smoked glasses from the top drawer, handed them up to the King. Now

  Kalico's expectacles were very useful, enabling him to see who was coming

  before they arrived, and clapping them hurriedly on his thin nose, he

  stared intently off into space. At what he saw, the King's expression

  changed from irritation to vague uneasiness. "Botheration!" he muttered

  morosely. "It's one of those mortals from the Emerald City. Why can't those

  girls stay home? Always poking their noses into other people's affairs and

  trying to save somebody from something."

 "Which one is it?" asked Shoofenwaller, blinking.

 "It's Dorothy," sighed Kalico, taking off his expectacles and putting them

  absently into his pocket, "and there's a queer kind of winged pig with her.

  A pig with wings, mind you. Rooks and rockets! Wonder what they want."

 "Why not find out?" suggested Shoofenwaller reasonably.

 "No! No, not tonight," Kalico waved his hands determinedly. "Just conduct

  them to the red guest cave, Shoofenwaller, and bring them to me in the

  morning." With a stiff bow, the Royal Chamberlain backed out the door and

  pattered away to admit the visitors.

 "And about time, too," thought Dorothy as the rock door opened cautiously

  and the little crooked Gnome thrust out his head.

 "In the name of King Kalico the First, I hereby welcome you to Gnome Man's

  Land," began Shoofenwaller pompously.

 "Oh, that's all right," yawned Pigasus wearily, "what we want is a place to

  sleep, and remember no trickery!" he added sharply as the Gnome stood

  aside so that they could enter the narrow rock passageway.

 "I suppose your Highness comes on a matter of state?" remarked

  Shoofenwaller, turning from Pigasus with an involuntary grimace. Pigs

  reminded him of ham; ham reminded him of eggs; and eggs were immediate

  death and destruction to gnomes.

 "Well, yes," admitted Dorothy, adjusting her step to the short, crooked legs

  of the King's little Counselor. "What I really need is an army!"

 "An army?" groaned Shoofenwaller, realizing what bad news this would be for

  his master. "Our army?"

 "Oh, let's talk about all that in the morning," wheezed Pigasus as Dorothy

  briskly nodded her head in answer to Shoofenwaller's question. The pink pig

  was taking sleepy sidelong squints at the elegantly excavated and

  gem-encrusted corridors of the Gnome King's underground dwelling.

 "Just what his Majesty suggested," muttered the Chamberlain, sweeping open a

  red iron door with a ruby knob. "I trust you will be comfortable here and

  rest well. If your Highness wishes a cup of Kalicocoa, or your friend a mud

  pie or pudding, just ring the bell. Goodnight, Princess! Goodnight, er, er

  PIG!"

 "Sa-hay, I resent that!" Pigasus cocked his ears belligerently as the King's

  crooked little messenger bowed himself out the door. "Did you notice the

  way he said `pig,' Dorothy?"

 "Yes," said Dorothy with a little yawn, "I did, but then all gnomes are

  sassy, and you'll have to get used to them. If Kalico helps us, that's all

  we care about."

 Pigasus nodded rather grimly. "I suppose this is what you call getting down

  to bed rock," he murmured, looking around the red-rock apartment with his

  amused blue stare. "Hope the beds aren't rock, too." Punching a red sofa

  experimentally and finding it surprisingly soft, the pink pig jumped up and

  settled himself cozily among the cushions. Pigasus had lived in castles and

  palaces all his life and was so accustomed to comfort and luxury that

  without bothering to look around Kalico's richly appointed guest cavern he

  closed his eyes and fell asleep. Dorothy, tiptoeing through a curtain into

  an adjoining red-rock cavern that served as a bedroom, undressed quickly

  and putting out the ruby lamps slid thankfully between the red silk sheets

  and was soon as soundly asleep as Pigasus.

 They were just having breakfast, served by two small gnomen in their red

  sitting-cave, when Shoofenwaller came hurrying in to announce that Kalico

  was ready and waiting to see them. Earlier the Gnome King and his

  Chamberlain had discussed the possible purposes of Dorothy's visit, and

  Kalico had been extremely annoyed to learn that she wanted to borrow his

  army.

 "And you will lend it to her, all our hundred thousand trained Gnomen

  Yoemen?" questioned Shoofenwaller anxiously.

 "What else can I do?" Kalico snapped his little gray eyes unhappily.

  "Remember, it was Dorothy who stole the former Gnome King's magic belt and

  really was the means of my becoming King."

 "That's so," muttered Shoofenwaller, pulling his ear reflectively. "But why

  not use a little strategy in this conference, King? Why not pretend to help

  her and at the same time safeguard your own interests? Lending our army is

  a dangerous experiment. Suppose an enemy threatened us while our fighting

  forces were in the Emerald City? Anything could happen. Put her off, make

  excuses," urged Shoofenwaller craftily. This suggestion fell in exactly

  with the Gnome King's wishes, and curious to know what really had brought

  Dorothy to his castle, he sent his little Chamberlain hurrying off to bring

  her to the throne room.

 "And now for a little Kalicoaxing," sniffed Pigasus, waddling unconcernedly

  along beside Dorothy under magnificent arches, over artificial terraces and

  rock gardens, gazing down long vistas of yet-unmined shafts where hundreds

  of gnomes worked busily with picks and shovels to further enrich the

  already enormously rich and powerful little Metal Monarch. Kalico, as they

  entered the beautifully furnished and lavishly carved cave that he used for

  a throne room, came hurrying to meet them.

 "So charming of you to come all this way just to see me," murmured the Gnome

  King, taking both of Dorothy's hands in his own and bowing graciously as

  she introduced Pigasus. "Always delighted to entertain a Princess from the

  Court of her Royal Highness, Ozma of Oz!"

 "Oh, Kalico, then you DO remember her! Oh, please, dear Kalico, will you

  help us to find her?"

 "Find her? Why, what under the earth do you mean? Is Ozma lost?" Kalico's

  long face at Dorothy's excited greeting grew visibly longer, and after the

  little girl had explained the disappearance of Ozma and the others, the

  enchantment of all the people in Oz, and the coming of Skamperoo to the

  Emerald City, Kalico climbed wearily back on his throne and sat down.

 "This this is shocking!" faltered Kalico, mopping his forehead with a

  long, gray cobweb, "And just what do you and this this pig intend

  to do about it?"

 "What do YOU intend to do about it?" Rather tired of being called a pig,

  Pigasus planted all four feet and stared defiantly up at the perturbed

  Metal Monarch.

 "Well er that is er I don't see that it is MY affair at

  all!" mumbled Kalico with a rueful nod of his head. "Anyone powerful enough

  to conquer Ozma and Oz would pay small attention to opinions of mine."

 "But we don't want your opinions," stated Pigasus bluntly. "What we want is

  your army and any magic you can conveniently spare!"

 "Please, Kalico, do help us," begged Dorothy, running up the carved rock

  steps of the throne and seating herself coaxingly on the arm. "With all

  your thousands of gnomes and many magic powers, we can certainly drive

  Skamperoo out of the Emerald City."

 "Well, of course," sighed Kalico, flattered by Dorothy's reference to his

  magic powers, "I'll do what I can, but if what you say is true, it will

  take more than one army to reconquer Oz." As he said this, Kalico looked

  across at Shoofenwaller, and the little Chamberlain, well pleased with his

  master's strategy, gave him an encouraging wink. "I tell you what I'll do."

  Kalico crossed his legs and regarded Dorothy through half-closed eyes. "If

  you find another King willing to send his army into Oz, I will also

  send mine. Remember, even Ozma's closest friends and retainers have

  forgotten her, and the entire population, now fully convinced Skamperoo is

  their rightful ruler, will rise to oppose us."

 "Yes, yes, but have you no magic that will dispel this wicked enchantment or

  help us to locate our friends and sovereigns?" demanded Pigasus, not wholly

  satisfied with the Gnome King's offer.

 "Gnome magic may be of no use in this case; nevertheless, I will send for my

  wizard and see what can be done." Remembering their last experience with

  magic, Dorothy stepped down from Kalico's throne and seated herself quietly

  on the pink pig's back, and Pigasus, grunting with relief, squinted

  suspiciously at the small, ugly Wizard of the Underworld who presently came

  shuffling into the royal presence chamber. As quickly as possible, Kalico

  explained to the Wizard all the dire happenings in Oz.

 "Do you think our magic spyglass could locate Ozma20and her missing friends

  and associates or tell us whether they have been utterly and completely

  destroyed?" demanded the Gnome King gravely.

 Potaroo, the King's magician, stood pulling his straggly whiskers for

  several moments after Kalico had finished speaking, then he stamped four

  times on the flagged floor with his right foot. Almost instantly four gnome

  wise men in peaked hats came into the throne room wheeling a huge telescope

  before them. Dorothy and Pigasus, prickling with suspense and terror,

  watched the Wizard screw his eye to the end of the twisting spyglass. After

  several snorts and surprised exclamations, Potaroo straightened up. "The

  missing Ozians and the Wizard of Ev are hidden away in Thunder Mountain,"

  he stated in a hoarse whisper. An electric little silence followed

  Potaroo's disclosure, and as no one uttered a sound, the wizard continued,

  "As the spyglass is now pointing north, I believe you will find Thunder

  Mountain in that direction, but I must warn you that it will be a long and

  exceedingly dangerous journey."

 "Danger? Well, what do we care for that? Quick somebody, fetch me my coat

  my hat"

 "This hardly seems a time for jokes and verses," murmured Kalico, looking at

  Dorothy in mild disapproval.

 "She has to make verses and rhymes when she rides me. I'm a poetry pig, and

  a lucky star guides me!" grunted Pigasus, too overcome by the wizard's

  awful news to realize he was speaking in verse himself.

 "Oh, what difference does it make?" cried Dorothy, jumping quickly off his

  back. "We must go to Thunder Mountain at once. Pigasus can fly there."

 "Here, here, not in such a hurry," exclaimed Kalico, secretly delighted at

  the prospect of being so easily rid of his troubles. "We must pack you a

  lunch basket, and tell me, Potaroo, have you any magic that will make the

  journey less dangerous for these brave young adventurers?"

 "M-magic?" stuttered Potaroo, his eyes growing glassy at the mere thought of

  parting with any of his magic treasures. "Well, er, I could lend them a box

  of my famous triple-action stumbling blocks. They will overthrow any enemy,

  no matter how numerous."

 "Splendid!" beamed Kalico, rubbing his hands briskly together, "And don't

  forget, in the course of your journey north, if you find a King willing to

  lend his army, my army also will be ready and at your service."

 "Oh, Kalico, how kind you are!" Running up the steps of the throne

  again, Dorothy gave the Gnome King an impulsive hug.

 "Come on, COME on!" squealed Pigasus, who had seen the various winks between

  Kalico and Shoofenwaller and was convinced that the little Gnome King was

  doing as little as he possibly could. "Give us our lunch and our stumbling

  blocks and we'll be off, and I must say they'll be an enormous help when we

  reach Thunder Mountain." Spreading his wings, Pigasus began to fly in angry

  circles round the Gnome King's head.

 "Humph, pork's going up!" sniffed Shoofenwaller as he hurried away to see

  about packing the lunch basket.

 "He ought to be dried, smoked and salted," muttered Potaroo, going sulkily

  off to fetch the blocks. Dorothy, in earnest consultation with Kalico,

  heard neither of these remarks, and when a few moments later the two

  returned with two boxes and Dorothy's hat and coat, she thanked them

  politely, called Pigasus down from a rocky ledge where he had flown, and

  climbed happily on his back. Then Pigasus, not giving her time for any

  lengthy farewells, zipped through the tunneled caverns and corridors of the

  Gnome King's Underground Dominions and burst thankfully out the back door

  of South Mountain.

 "Now let's see, which way is north?" mused Pigasus, twirling his curly tail

  around like a propeller. "All we have to do is to fly north to Thunder

  Mountain, unlock its thunder bolts, restore the rulers of Oz, toss tumbling

  blocks at all enemies, raise a grand army, and then, THEN King Kalico will

  help us. Isn't it just too magniferous!"

 "Why, Piggins, how mean of you, surely you know The Gnome King's our friend,

  don't you like Kalico?"

 "No!" said Pigasus fiercely, hurling himself into the air.

 "Well, anyway, we're better off than we were before," thought Dorothy after

  several rhymed attempts to draw Pigasus into a conversation. "At least we

  now know where Ozma is and have two kinds of magic and the promise of an

  army. Really, we're getting on quite fast." But perhaps had she seen the

  King and his Chamberlain nodding their heads like two little China

  mandarins as she and Pigasus left the throne room, she would not have felt

  so cheerful.

 "That's the last we'll ever see of her," chuckled Shoofenwaller, dropping a

  dried lizard instead of a lump of sugar into his tea. (Gnomes always flavor

  their tea with lizards.) "No one yet has ever come safely back from Thunder

  Mountain. But what about this new Emperor of Oz?"

 "Oh, that will be all right!" Kalico waved one hand airily. "I would much

  rather have a man on the throne of Oz. Ozma is always involving me in wars

  or demanding the rights of smaller Kingdoms, so long may she stay in

  Thunder Mountain and long Skamperoo rule in Oz!"

 "Long live the Emperor!" echoed Shoofenwaller, and clicking their teacups

  gaily together, the two bad little Gnomes drained to the last drop their

  black and bitter tea. And we should not be too hard on Kalico, I suppose,

  for like all the dwellers under the earth, his heart is gray and flinty as

  the rock that forms his cavern, the blood in his veins cold and sluggish as

  the leaden waters of the underground rivers that wind sullenly through his

  dark domain.

 CHAPTER 14

 THE EMPEROR OF OZ

 The same morning Dorothy wakened in the rustic summer house of the Winkie

  farmer, Skamperoo opened his eyes upon the unaccustomed grandeur of Ozma's

  Royal Palace. The banquet had lasted till long after three o'clock, then

  still chuckling and yawning, he had waved goodnight to his hilarious and

  amiable subjects and led Chalk off to bed. Twenty footmen with twenty

  lighted tapers preceded him to Ozma's own apartment, but dismissing this as

  too plain and simple, he had taken the immense green guest suite across the

  hall.

 Chalk would have much preferred a stall in the Royal Stable with the other

  four-footed members of the castle party, but Skamperoo would not hear of

  such a separation. He wanted his white wishing horse close at hand, not

  only because through him and the magic emeralds he could satisfy every

  wish, but because for the first time in his long, lazy, selfish life he had

  found someone he liked better than himself. In Skamperoo's eyes Chalk was

  absolutely perfect, and as his own wish had brought the golden-maned

  charger into being, he felt proud and important as a parent with his first

  child.

 After a few regretful sniffs out of the window, a few short turns up and

  down their immense and elegant sleeping apartment, Chalk leaped lightly on

  one of the large, green beds and settled himself gracefully for the night.

  Covering Chalk tenderly with a green satin quilt, Skamperoo hastily

  disrobed, and clutching his precious necklaces, climbed wearily into the

  other bed. There, without even stopping to wish himself goodnight, he fell

  into a deep and tranquil slumber. Indeed, both, in spite of the strangeness

  of their surroundings, slept soundly till morning.

 About eight o'clock, Chalk, lifting his head from the embroidered pillow,

  looked indulgently across at the new Emperor of Oz. Sitting up in bed,

  Skamperoo was busily counting the gems in his three magic chains.

 "Ho, throw those silly beads away!" advised the white horse, jumping out of

  bed with a gay toss of his golden mane. "You have nothing else to wish for,

  Kingaling, nothing more at all! M-mmm, this green carpet looks good enough

  to eat, but I've a fancy to nibble the clover in Your Majesty's garden

  while it is still fresh with dew."

 "Say it again," begged Skamperoo, closing his eyes and clasping himself

  blissfully around the middle.

 "Your Majesty's garden! Your Majesty's Palace, Your Majesty's Kingdom of

  Oz!" whinnied the white horse, rising on his hind legs and pirouetting

  round with mischievous little prances. "But come, Emp! What are your wishes

  for today? I think we will have to use the necklaces after all. You must

  certainly have some new clothes. It would never do to appear this morning

  in the suit you wore last night. You had better have some sleeping

  garments, too. I've a notion that Emperors do not sleep in their raw hides

  like horses." Skamperoo, giggling self-consciously, dragged the satin

  sheets up to his chin, for to tell the truth, he had arrived in the Emerald

  City with only one suit to his back, and an extremely shabby one at that.

 "Maybe I'd better change my face, too," he murmured, "to go with all this,

  you know." Dreamily Skamperoo waved his hands about, and then, leaning

  forward, slipped the chains over Chalk's ear.

 "What's the matter with the face you have?" demanded Chalk, gazing fondly at

  the red, rotund countenance of his Master. "I like you just as you are, and

  if you change I wouldn't even know you, but I'll tell you what you can

  wish after you've ordered yourself some new clothes wish yourself a

  seasoned rider, and then we can go far and wide, Kingaling, far and wide at

  a furious gallop and none shall say us nay hey, hey!"

 "And none shall say us nay," trilled Skamperoo, rolling out of bed, covers

  and all. To wish himself fifty jewel-encrusted robes with boots, crowns,

  and all the undergarments to go with them, fifty splendid sleeping robes,

  and fifty suits of riding clothes took but a moment. He and Chalk could

  hear them landing with little thuds on the hangars in the many closets as

  Skamperoo finished speaking. Then, being naturally lazy, the new Emperor

  wished that he had already had his bath and was dressed in his green riding

  clothes. So immediately he was, and winking at his clever assistant

  adviser, he next wished himself the best rider in Oz. Then, taking back his

  necklaces, he buttoned them carefully in a little pocket over his heart and

  went over to the mirror to have a look at himself.

 "How about this governing stuff?" puffed the self-made Emperor, turning this

  way and that to get a good view of his new clothes.

 "Oh, I shouldn't bother about governing," answered Chalk carelessly. "A

  well-governed country like this should be able to run itself for a few

  weeks. By that time we'll be ready for more serious matters, but right now

  I'm all for enjoying myself. A splendid idea, that, of putting all the

  rulers and the Wizard and his magic out of the way. The rest of your court

  and subjects are exceedingly sensible and jolly, and if we are pleasant and

  sensible too, everything will be `What ho and so cozy!' So let's go below

  and start our first day of emperoaring!" Impatiently Chalk pranced away

  toward the door.

 "You're sure I look all right?" asked Skamperoo with another anxious squint

  at his reflection. "Seems to me I'm a bit fat."

 "Oh, don't worry about that," said Chalk, rolling his eyes wickedly. "Come

  along, come along, and I'll soon shake some of that fat off you. Up with

  you, Kingaling, and let's to our oats!" To his delight and pleasure,

  Skamperoo had not the slightest trouble mounting, and once in the saddle he

  felt perfectly at home, even when Chalk bounded through the door, took the

  long, circular steps between a canter and a gallop, and ran madly three

  times round the Royal gardens.

 On fine days Ozma always had breakfast in her private garden, and it being

  an especially fine day, the palace servants without thought or question had

  placed the royal table under the trees. It was still fairly early, and none

  of the guests or members of the household were down, but this did not spoil

  Skamperoo's excellent appetite at all. Ordering Chalk a breakfast of oats,

  bran and quartered apples, he seated himself gaily at the head of the

  table. The green riding hat, set well over one ear, became him vastly well,

  and Chalk, regarding him proudly from the foot of the table, thought him

  every inch an Emperor, even if round the waist there were a good many too

  many inches.

 "I wish Pinny Penny could see you now," sighed the horse, sinking

  contentedly back on his haunches, "and how I should have enjoyed seeing

  Matiah's face when he finally discovered you and the necklaces were gone.

  By the way, perhaps we should do something about Matiah."

 "Pinny Penny will attend to him," said Skamperoo, popping a huge cherry into

  his mouth and nodding his head reassuringly. "I'll wager Pinny Penny sent

  the fellow packing the moment he found himself King. Wonder how Pinny is

  making out, anyway?"

 "But suppose Matiah should follow us here?" went on Chalk. Having been in

  existence only two days, he knew little of Oz or geozophy.

 "He can't come here," Skamperoo told him triumphantly. "There's a deadly

  desert between Skampavia and Oz that no one in my father's lifetime or in

  mine has ever crossed, that is with the exception of ourselves, and we were

  wished across, which doesn't count." Then, as four footmen with heaping

  trays appeared, he winked at Chalk, and the white horse lapsed into a

  thoughtful silence.

 And Skamperoo had been perfectly correct in his conjectures about Pinny

  Penny. When, with a resounding clunk, the King's gold crown had fallen upon

  the astonished Prime Minister, his head had gone entirely through so he was

  forced to wear it much as a dog wears a collar. But even so, he was not

  slow to realize the significance of this odd happening or the power it

  brought with it. Gripping the scepter, which had forced itself into his

  hand, he rushed into the throne room to find out what strange whim of his

  Master had made him acting King of the Realm. A glance around the throne

  room was enough to show him that Skamperoo was not there, and when he saw

  Matiah sitting so unconcernedly in the book alcove, a sudden rage and

  conviction seized him. Whatever had happened, Matiah was to blame.

 "Leave this palace at once!" shouted Pinny Penny, stamping first one foot

  and then the other. "At once, do you hear, or I'll call out the guard!"

  Matiah, still deep in the History of Oz, looked up in astonishment, and

  when he saw the little Prime Minister wearing Skamperoo's crown round his

  neck and brandishing his scepter, he gave a perfect bellow of anger and

  dismay.

 "Where's the King?" he roared, looking wildly around the throne room, "And

  why are you wearing his crown? Where's Skamperoo where're the

  necklaces?"

 "Ask yourself!" raged Pinny Penny, shaking the scepter threateningly.

  "Everything was quiet and peaceful till you and your necklaces arrived at

  this palace; there's some magic trickery about them and about you. Don't

  think I was fooled by that horse story, a horse does not appear out of the

  air. Well, now the King's gone, the horse is gone, and unless you are gone

  in ten seconds I'll have you thrown out of the window. Ten seconds, do you

  hear? This crown and scepter came to me through no wish or choice of my

  own, but since they did come to me, I AM THE KING! And I intend to rule

  this country. My first official act will be to rid myself of your filthy

  presence. Now then, start walking, merchant, and don't stop till you reach

  the border. Twenty guards will follow to see you safely out of the

  country."

 "You wait till Skamperoo hears about this!" blustered Matiah, backing away

  in alarm from the determined little Prime Minister. "I'm more important to

  him than anyone else."

 "Then why aren't you with him?" inquired Pinny Penny shrewdly. "No, wherever

  he's gone, he has gone without you. I am the King, and I do not need you,

  so be off!" Clapping his hands, Pinny gave a sharp command to the guards

  who came hurrying in answer to his summons. Retiring rapidly to escape the

  tips of their sharp spikes, Matiah sullenly began his long march. It was

  nightfall by the time the little company reached the edge of Skampavia.

  Here, in a wilderness of rock and rubble, the guardsmen left him with food

  enough for a couple of days and stern warnings never to return to

  Skampavia. Far to the west the miserable merchant could see the comforting

  lights of Merryland, but he had no desire to go there or east to the

  Kingdom of Ix. Instead, he stared hopelessly across the wilderness to where

  the heaving sands of the Deadly Desert gleamed like molten silver in the

  moonlight.

 How had that rascally monarch ever escaped without his seeing him? How could

  he ever safely cross the Deadly Desert and hope to reach Oz? How had

  Skamperoo, who seemed so dumb and foolish, ever discovered the secret of

  using the magic emeralds when he himself had failed to do so? How? How?

  How? Crouched on a flat rock, munching one of the sandwiches left by the

  guards, Matiah scowled evilly across the grim desert, his thoughts as

  treacherous and shifting as its deadly sands.

 CHAPTER 15

 THE DOONERS!

 All day, with only a short pause for lunch, Pigasus had flown north, Dorothy

  keeping a sharp lookout for Thunder Mountain or mountains of any sort, but

  the wild, desolate country through which they were flying was flat,

  desert-like and apparently perfectly uninhabited.

 "A fine, healthy chance we have of finding an army here!" snorted Pigasus as

  the afternoon drew to a hot, weary close. "And what we'll do when we find

  Thunder Mountain I haven't the faintest notion, have you? Even if I butt my

  nose black, blue and blunt, and you break both knuckles beating on its

  rocky exterior, how can we ever hope to enter such a place, much less

  release our unfortunate sovereigns? I told you Kalico was a scoundrel; I'll

  wager he's sent us on a wild-goose chase just to get us out of the way."

 "Ah, don't say I told you so, There's always some way, you know," said

  Dorothy, almost as downhearted as Pigasus, though she would not admit it.

  The pink pig, rather ashamed of himself, flew for several miles without

  saying anything, then, in rather a gruff voice, he called Dorothy's

  attention to the changing nature of the scenery below.

 "Notice the hills?" he snorted more hopefully. "Maybe there is a mountain,

  after all, but the sun's going down, and I'm ready to sink myself, so let's

  descend and see whether we can find a soft rock on which to lay our heads."

 "Not hills, dunes!" cried Dorothy, bouncing off as soon as Pigasus touched

  the earth. "Sand dunes; we must be near the coast and the Nonestic Ocean."

 "It does smell salty," agreed Pigasus, sniffing the air eagerly, "but

  suppose we save the ocean for tomorrow; my feet ache, my wings ache, and

  I'm hollow as a drum."

 "Then we'll have supper," decided Dorothy sensibly. So seating themselves

  comfortably with their backs against a dune, the two weary explorers

  finished up all the cold meat, fruit, pie and sandwiches Shoofenwaller had

  packed up for them. After a long, wistful sniff into the box convinced him

  there was not another crumb, Pigasus folded his wings and lay down in the

  soft sand at the foot of the dune, giving only indistinct grunts and snorts

  to Dorothy's questions and observations. Finally, getting no answer at all,

  Dorothy discovered he was asleep. The regular rise and fall of the pink

  pig's sides, the soft, drowsy singing of the west wind lulled Dorothy into

  a pleasant state of dreaminess, and presently, with her head comfortably

  pillowed on the pig's plump shoulder, she fell asleep, too.

 It must have been hours later when terrified squeals from Pigasus and the

  patter of a hundred hurrying feet made her start up in alarm. Still only

  half awake, she was startled to find herself and Pigasus surrounded by a

  horde of savage-looking sandmen. In the pale and watery moonlight they

  looked like creatures out of some very bad dream. Their bodies were roughly

  moulded of sand, their eyes strangely green and phosphorescent, while their

  hair, rising like beach grass from their pointed heads, waved about their

  lumpy faces.

 Clutching the basket that contained her small store of clothing, the Black

  Witch's powder of darkness, and Potaroo's box of stumbling blocks, Dorothy

  pressed back against the dune. Her first idea of leaping on the pig's back

  and bidding him fly was useless. Pigasus lay helplessly on his side, his

  wings and legs bound tightly with long strands of tough, strong seaweed.

  Thankful to find that she at least was free, Dorothy went a step closer to

  her struggling, squealing, furious little comrade. As she did so, a perfect

  shower of sand balls came flying toward her. The sharp sting of the

  sandmen's missiles not only awoke her completely, but goaded her into

  instant and angry action.

 "Stop that! Stop that at once!" she cried, stamping her foot indignantly,

  but her words only brought another shower of sand balls down on their

  heads.

 "You have dared to invade the sacred domain of the Dooners," yelled the

  rasping voice of the leader, rattling a long string of seashells he wore

  round his neck. "And therefore you shall be sand balled, sand bagged and

  made into sandwiches for the sand crabs!"

 If the Dooner had not looked so wild and dangerous, his foolish threat might

  have been amusing, but as he and his bandy-legged sandmen came leaping

  forward, Pigasus gave a squeal of sheer terror, and Dorothy, raising the

  basket over her head, hurled it with all her might into the midst of the

  advancing army. The effect was immediate and astonishing. Cowering down

  beside Pigasus and expecting to be seized or trampled on, Dorothy saw the

  first line of Dooners going down like a row of tenpins, then all the others

  began tumbling and tripping and falling in heaps. No sooner would a sandman

  rise than he would instantly tumble down again, and their squalls and

  screeches of rage were so piercing Dorothy put both hands over her ears.

 "It's the blocks," wheezed Pigasus, managing to lift his head a few inches.

  "Kalico's stumbling blocks are flying like fur and fury. Now if they just

  keep 'em down for a while longer, we might get away."

 Dorothy, peering sharply into the midst of the tumbling Dooners, saw the

  fifty magic squares released from their box when she flung her basket,

  fairly exploding with activity, and scramble up as they would after each

  tumble, the sandmen could not advance an inch, or even manage to stand

  erect. The leader, attempting to crawl forward on his hands and knees, was

  caught by a dozen of the whirling missiles and rolled back like a log among

  his churning comrades.

 "Hurray! Three cheers for Kalico!" puffed Pigasus. "Quick, my girl, see if

  you can untie these wretched seaweeds, and we'll be flying and be off in a

  pigwhistle."

 "I had a pair of scissors in my basket, if it hasn't fallen out, and anyway

  I'm not going without my things," declared Dorothy, now quite bold since

  the enemy had been overcome by magic. And in spite of the pig's anxious

  squeals of warning, she rushed forward, grabbed her basket and began

  picking up her scattered belongings, noting with a sigh of relief that the

  box containing the powder of darkness was still closed. With the scissors,

  still safe in the little pocket in the side of the basket, she soon clipped

  the seaweed trusses from Pigasus, and clasping the basket in her arms

  climbed swiftly on his back. Pigasus, without one backward glance, rose

  straight into the air and again headed north. Dorothy, peering fearfully

  over his left wing, saw the Dooners spring suddenly to their feet and then,

  like frightened prairie dogs, disappear into many holes in the sand.

 Funny, mused Dorothy, that they had not noticed these openings before. Funny

  that the Dooners had stopped stumbling as soon as she and Pigasus had taken

  to the air. Funny but then, everything was funny. Right in the middle

  of her conjectures, the box of stumbling blocks, now closed and tied with a

  red ribbon, dropped "plink" into the middle of her basket.

 "Someone's throwing things," gasped Pigasus, flapping his wings a bit faster

  and looking rather wildly over his shoulder.

 "No, just our box of stumbling blocks," yawned Dorothy. Now that the

  excitement was over, she felt dreadfully tired, and even the sight of the

  Nonestic Ocean rippling and gleaming a few yards ahead did not arouse or

  interest her.

 It did not interest Pigasus either. He was far from pleased to find himself

  so near the coast. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all," muttered

  the pig, perking up his ears and wiggling his nose rapidly. "We've flown

  straight north, and instead of striking Thunder Mountain, we strike the

  sea, and how could a mountain be in the middle of the sea?"

 "There are mountains on islands, and I have a notion There are plenty of

  islands out there in the ocean," said Dorothy sleepily, recalling the days

  she had studied geography in the United States.

 "Take Japan, for instance, over there Mountains are simply everywhere!"

 "I don't care if they are," answered Pigasus fiercely. "I won't go to Japan,

  and I'll not go a wing's breadth over this ocean tonight, islands or no

  islands. Sa-hay! There's the North Star to our left, so we're not going

  north at all. We're off our course, that's what we are!"

 "North Star? North Star, of course we are!" murmured Dorothy with a drowsy

  nod.

 "You're asleep," scolded Pigasus in a worried voice. "I'd better land."

 "If you land too soon, you'll strike a dune," warned Dorothy with another

  yawn. And after a quick glance below and convinced they were still over the

  Dooners' domain, Pigasus spread his wings a bit wider and swung along the

  coast looking carefully for a safe place to land and spend the rest of the

  night. He was so busy squinting downward that he never saw the long,

  curious, tube-like shadow shooting after him with incredible accuracy and

  speed. A terrific blast of air as it rushed by them on the right was his

  first warning of danger. Dorothy, too, caught unaware, gave a faint shriek

  as an immense, snake-like body curved back and began to coil round and

  round them like some gigantic air serpent.

 "It is a snake!" thought poor Dorothy as Pigasus clung helplessly in the

  little circle of air left in the center of its coils. Neither spoke, for

  truly there was nothing to say or do. Then just as the suspense grew too

  awful to be endured, the monster opened its mouth, and Dorothy, backing as

  far along the pig's back as she possibly could, almost lost her balance.

  Instead of a tongue or long tusks, out popped the head and shoulders of a

  little old man no larger than Dorothy herself.

 "Pardon me," he murmured politely, "I was looking for a sea serpent."

 "Do I look like a sea serpent?" snorted Pigasus in a quivering voice, for he

  was still half choked from shock and fright. "If you and that monster

  you're riding are looking for a sea serpent, go ahead look for one, but

  leave honest travelers alone!"

 "Monster?" exclaimed the little man in a hurt voice. "Oh, I say now, you

  have us all wrong. This is no monster, this is the long, strong, flexible,

  stretchable, SHOOTING TOWER of my private castle, and I myself am Bitty

  Bit, the Seer of Some Summit."

 In the short silence that followed Bitty Bit's astonishing announcement,

  Dorothy, examining more closely the tube-like coils encircling herself and

  Pigasus, saw that they really were of stone with rubber-like sections

  between. What she had taken for a mouth was really a window. With his elbow

  resting on the ledge, Bitty Bit was regarding them fixedly.

 "Well, even if you are a seer and have a shooting tower," grunted Pigasus,

  gathering courage as he went along, "there is no reason for you to come

  towering over us this way!"

 "But a seer must be constantly looking for things," explained Bitty Bit,

  spreading his hands expansively. "That, you know, is his business. I am

  always looking for something, and tonight it happens to be sea serpents."

 "Sorry to disappoint you," said Pigasus more mildly, "but since we are not

  sea serpents, perhaps you'll be good enough to unwind your tower. As it

  happens, I have a little looking to do myself. As a matter of fact, when

  you and your tower overtook us, I was searching for a safe place for this

  young Princess and myself to spend the night."

 "Look no more!" begged Bitty Bit, leaning so far over the sill Dorothy

  involuntarily put out her hand to save him from falling. "You shall both

  spend the night in my castle. COME!" Grasping Dorothy by one hand and

  Pigasus by one wing, the little seer with superhuman strength for one so

  small and wrinkled dragged them both through the open window of his

  shooting tower.

 CHAPTER 16

 THE SEER OF SOME SUMMIT

 Since coming to Oz, Dorothy had traveled in many strange ways, but to find

  herself shooting through the midnight sky in Bitty Bit's tower was surely

  the oddest of all. Both she and Pigasus stared from the window in wide-eyed

  wonder as the tower uncoiled and started shrinking rapidly backward.

 "We may as well go home at once," observed Bitty Bit, rubbing his little

  hands briskly together. "You are so much more interesting than sea

  serpents, and I can easily look for sea serpents some other night. Now

  don't be alarmed when we bump."

 "Bump?" repeated Dorothy rather nervously.

 "Of course," the sage told her calmly. "As I go forward, the tower stretches

  out in any direction I wish to go; when I return, it shrinks, contracts,

  and retires within itself like a telescope, and by the time we reach the

  castle it is no larger than an ordinary tower. Mm better hold on to

  something, we're almost there!"

 Running around the circular room a few feet from the wall was a gold

  railing. Pigasus had just time to seize it with one hand (sic hand?)

  when Bitty Bit's tower with a resounding crash snapped back, but up to a

  vertical position, so that what had been the floor of the little room

  became the east wall and the window a skylight. Dorothy and Pigasus,

  describing a complete circle on the bar, landed in a more-or-less

  upside-down position on what had been the back wall. "That's why I have it

  cushioned," explained the seer, who also had executed a neat somersault.

  Hopping up as if landing on his head was a perfectly usual and ordinary

  occurrence, Bitty Bit opened a trap door and motioned for Dorothy and

  Pigasus to follow him down a long, winding stair.

 "These magic contraptions will be the death of me," wheezed Pigasus, picking

  himself up with a groan. The cushioned floor had made his fall painless,

  but he was considerably jolted and upset from the shock, or rather the

  series of shocks that had so far punctuated their evening.

 "But if he's a seer," whispered Dorothy, recovering her basket and trotting

  eagerly after Bitty Bit, "he ought to be able to help us a"

 "Bitty Bit," sniffed the pink pig. "Well, if he'll just help me to a bed,

  I'll be satisfied!" And grunting and grumbling, he clumped sleepily down

  the stairs behind Dorothy. The room into which the stone stairway led them

  was evidently the cozy and comfortable study of the comical little seer.

  Its walls were of oak, lined from floor to ceiling with books, and all its

  furnishings were tan or brown. Dorothy considered this extremely suitable,

  as Bitty Bit himself looked like a very wise and merry Brownie. On his

  little round head was a round cap with a yellow quill, and he wore a brown,

  wrinkled robe rather like a monk's, tied tightly round the waist with a

  yellow cord. His bright, black, sharp little eyes danced with good humor

  and interest in his suntanned, honest, little face.

 While Pigasus stood sleepily and somewhat disapprovingly on the hearth rug,

  Dorothy sank into a snug brown armchair and looked expectantly up at their

  singular host.

 "No, no, not a word," begged Bitty Bit, raising his hand pleadingly.

  "Remember, I am the Seer of Some Summit, a seer who can see and foresee; a

  seer who can tell and foretell. Just by closing my eyes I can tell who you

  are, whence you came, and whither you are going."

 "Fancy that, now," observed Pigasus in a mocking voice.

 "You," retorted Bitty Bit, pointing a skinny brown finger at the pig, "you

  are a creation of my friend, the Red Jinn, whose taste for low verse I

  always knew would lead him into some mischief."

 "Low verses?" retorted Pigasus indignantly, while even Dorothy looked a

  little shocked.

 "Yes, low verses," insisted Bitty Bit solemnly. "You are so constructed that

  he who rides must rhyme and break into foolish jingles. Is this not so?"

 "They may be jingles, but they are NOT low verse," protested Pigasus,

  flapping his ears angrily.

 "Well, then, let us call them simple verses," amended Bitty Bit with a

  generous wave of the hand, "at least they are verses that anyone can

  understand, which, of course, makes them of no value whatever. People never

  appreciate what they can understand."

 "Dorothy does," declared Pigasus, now mad enough to fly right out the

  window.

 "Dorothy? Ah, yes, I was coming to her." Swinging around, Bitty Bit, his

  eyes still tightly shut, wagged his finger at the astonished little girl.

  "You are the mortal girl who came to Oz by cyclone. You live in the Emerald

  City of Oz and are"

 "Oh, tell us something we don't already know," interrupted Pigasus with a

  bored yawn. "Where is Ozma of Oz now; how could a scalawag Emperor steal

  her throne?"

 "Wait! Wait! Give me time! Not a word more not a word!" panted Bitty

  Bit, advancing with short, dancing steps toward Dorothy. "I I see a

  necklace," he muttered mysteriously. "One, two, three necklaces! I see a

  white horse and a fat, red-faced fellow wearing a small emerald crown.

  Great sea bass and sassafrass! Oz has been conquered, its inhabitants

  enchanted, its rulers banished, and the King of Skampavia sits on the

  throne."

 "So that's where he comes from!" breathed Dorothy, forgetting Bitty Bit's

  request for silence. "Oh, quick, tell us more tell us more, and help us

  to restore Ozma and the other lost sovereigns to power!"

 "I am only a seer," answered the sage, opening his eyes wide and suddenly.

  "I can see and foresee, tell and foretell, but I cannot change that which

  has happened or is about to happen."

 "But where is Ozma?" demanded Pigasus, edging closer. "If you are a seer and

  can see 'er, at least you can tell us where she is." In this way Pigasus

  hoped to check up the information given them by Potaroo, the Gnome King's

  Wizard.

 So again Bitty Bit closed his eyes and, pressing his fingers to his

  forehead, spoke: "Ozma, my old friend Jinnicky, the Wizard of Oz, a soldier

  with green whiskers, a purple horse, two Queens, two Kings, a Prince, the

  Tin Woodman, and Glinda the Good Sorceress are lying at the bottom of

  Lightning Lake, which is on the top of Thunder Mountain," Bitty Bit told

  them solemnly.

 "Lightning Lake?" cried Dorothy, seizing the little seer frantically by the

  shoulders. "Why, then, they must be drowned, burned and destroyed

  altogether!"

 "No, no, they are quite calm and as usual," Bitty Bit assured her hastily.

  "In fact, they are, I should say, in a trance of some kind."

 "But what'll we do, how'll we disenchant them or find Thunder Mountain?"

  Loosing her hold on Bitty Bit, Dorothy spun round three times and then

  started firmly for the door.

 "My shooting tower will take you to Thunder Mountain or any other place you

  decide you must go," promised Bitty Bit, hurrying anxiously after the

  little girl, "but not tonight, Dorothy, not tonight. We are all tired, and

  I must have time to think. The conquering of Oz is a great shock to me. I

  would like time to look into the matter more fully and consider all of

  these strange events in their proper order. This problem shall be my

  pillow. I'll sleep on it, my dear, and in the morning will doubtless have

  something helpful to suggest."

 "Well, then, where're the beds?" yawned Pigasus, who heartily approved of

  Bitty Bit's suggestion. "Or are we to sleep on our problems, too?" At this,

  Bitty Bit, who seemed to find Pigasus terribly amusing, laughed right out

  loud, then taking Dorothy's arm he led the way to a snug little bedroom all

  done in yellow. Pigasus had a gentlemanly apartment in tan next door, and

  both were so weary they spent little time examining their new quarters, but

  instead went directly to bed and to sleep.

 When Dorothy wakened next morning, she looked out the window and saw Pigasus

  flying in slow circles round the tidy castle. Bitty Bit's brown stone

  palace, though small and unpretentious, perched right on top of Some

  Summit, and the view was so fine and the mountain air so fresh and

  invigorating, Dorothy, in spite of all her anxiety and worry, began to feel

  happy and reckless and ready for anything. With cheerful little glances

  round her cozy yellow room, she dressed, brushed her hair till it shone,

  then skipped merrily down the brown marble steps and out into the garden.

  The garden, really a series of sloping terraces, was bright with hardy

  mountain posies, with spicy sage bushes and gnarled old trees which clung

  like acrobats to the steep rocks and dangerous crevices. Pigasus, catching

  a glimpse of Dorothy seated on a smooth rock near a little waterfall, came

  swooping down to wish her a merry morning.

 "Not a bad little palace," remarked the pig considerately. "Not a bad little

  palace at all, though so far as I can see there's not a manservant or a

  woman servant or even a ladybug about. I imagine this fellow is a hermit

  and from the looks of him probably lives on tobacco and snuff. What do you

  suppose are the chances for breakfast?"

 "I don't know," said Dorothy, refusing to allow such a small matter as

  breakfast to dash her spirits. "Have you seen Bitty Bit this morning?"

 "Yes," sniffed Pigasus, beginning to poke his nose hungrily round the roots

  of a dwarf oak, "before I flew out my window I saw him going into his brown

  study. Seer goes into brown study. How's that for the first announcement of

  the day?"

 "You're awful," laughed Dorothy, giving Pigasus a little push.

 "No, just awfully hungry," grinned Pigasus. "Now I've been thinking"

 "NO?" Stepping out from behind a sizable bush, Bitty Bit regarded the pig

  with an air of assumed amazement. "He says he's been thinking," he

  repeated, turning solemnly to Dorothy. "Must be the air up here."

 "That's about all I've had," retorted Pigasus, savagely crunching an acorn

  between his teeth, "that and a nibble from one of your sage bushes."

 "Sage bush, eh?" chuckled Bitty Bit, winking at Dorothy. "That's good, and

  we'll make a sage of you yet, a sausage!" he whispered in an undertone that

  Pigasus heard quite distinctly. "And speaking of sausage, how about

  breakfast?"

 Though Bitty Bit's remark about the sausage still rankled, Pigasus was too

  hungry to let it keep him from following the seer into a small, walled

  garden that opened out from the larger dining hall of his castle. Here, on

  a small table covered with a gay yellow cloth, was assembled the most

  appetizing breakfast Dorothy ever had tasted. Ripe melon and apricots,

  cereal and eggs, tiny meat pies, pancakes and honey, hot rolls and steaming

  brown cocoa. There was a huge bowl of mush and cream for Pigasus and

  another of buttermilk, and under the soothing influence of his favorite

  foods, Pigasus completely forgot his annoyance, and they were soon

  chattering away like old friends at a Sunday School Picnic.

 Bitty Bit's chef, whom the pig had overlooked in his grand tour of the

  palace, served them with skill and speed. No wonder Pigasus had not seen

  him, for he was even smaller than his wrinkled little Master and almost

  completely enveloped in a great brown linen apron and tall brown cap.

  Dorothy could not possibly eat all the dainties pressed upon her by the

  kind little seer and his chef, but she nibbled at each course, and when

  Bitty Bit saw that neither she nor Pigasus could down another bite, he

  swallowed the rest of his cocoa and bounced briskly to his feet.

 "Now," he cried, tossing away his gay napkin with a flourish. "Now for the

  Emerald City and Oz!"

 "But I thought we were going to Thunder Mountain," exclaimed Dorothy,

  pushing back her chair so hurriedly she bumped her head on the wall.

 "That," exclaimed Bitty Bit, looking over his shoulder, for he was already

  halfway through the door, "that will not be necessary. All we need to save

  the celebrities of Oz is the long-lost wishing emeralds of Lorna the Wood

  Nymph."

 "Lorna?" coughed Pigasus, rolling out of his seat and falling a bit

  sideways. "For pretty sake, who's she?"

 "Oh, come along!" urged Dorothy, and without wasting another second she

  pelted into the brown palace after Bitty Bit. With a groan Pigasus

  followed, and groaned again when he realized he would have to climb three

  flights of marble steps and a flight of stone to reach the famous shooting

  tower. Then, suddenly and joyfully remembering his wings, he spread them

  wide.

 "Wings, hold me up," mumbled the pink pig stuffily, "we're carrying entirely

  too mush mush!" Rising rather uncertainly, he breathlessly flapped his way

  up to the tower room where Dorothy and Bitty Bit impatiently awaited him.

 CHAPTER 17

 SKAMPEROO IN OZ

 In the company of Scraps, the Scarecrow, the Royal Visitors, and all the

  amusing members of Ozma's court, the Emperor of Oz and Chalk passed a gay

  and hilarious morning. The tableaux and pageants proceeded without a single

  hitch, and no one seemed to miss Dorothy or Pigasus at all, nor did anyone

  notice the omission of the carefully planned groups showing the Wizard's

  arrival in Oz, Dorothy's first visit to the Emerald City, or the victory of

  Nick Chopper over the wolves. These interesting and historical events might

  just as well never have happened. Notta's circus later in the afternoon

  went off with a bang, even without Pigasus to jump through hoops and fly

  round the ring waving flags while Scraps did her balance-defying acts on

  the trapeze and tightrope. The picnic supper was even more fun than the

  circus, and the fireworks, set off by Tik Tok, who was in no danger of

  scorching himself, the best of all. Indeed, Skamperoo's first day in the

  Emerald City had been so full and so interesting he had not made a single

  wish or once thought of his magic emeralds.

 "Funny we never had jolly times like this at home," mused Skamperoo, putting

  out the emerald stars in the ceiling that pleasantly lighted his green

  apartment and burrowing happily down into his splendid green bed. "Oh,

  Chalk! Are you asleep there, old horse?" As no answer came from the other

  bed, Skamperoo let himself sink a bit deeper into the luxurious nest of

  silken covers and soon was asleep himself, puffing and whistling like a

  steamboat.

 But the strange and frightful snoring of the Emperor did not seem to stop or

  scare away the shadowy figure that presently came stealing into the Royal

  Chamber. Once, twice, three times, long skinny fingers reached out toward

  the thick neck of the snoring ruler of Oz. The fourth time there were three

  distinct little clips, and when the curving, talon-like claw withdrew, it

  had in its clutching grasp the three powerful wishing chains. Then, without

  waking the occupant of either bed, the thief stole quietly into the

  shadows.

 Now the Scarecrow, delighted with the success of the celebration so far, had

  suggested a series of athletic contests and obstacle races for next day,

  and Skamperoo had heartily agreed to his plans. His first thought on waking

  was the race to be run by the straw man and himself, the Scarecrow on the

  wooden sawhorse, he on his splendid white charger.

 "I'll wear the white leather breeches and shirt," puffed Skamperoo, bounding

  out of bed like a schoolboy. He had taken a shower and donned his showy

  riding clothes before he missed his magic emeralds. Then, all at once, as

  he stood before the mirror to comb his hair, he gave a loud squall of

  anguish. "Chalk! Chalk!" roared the distracted Emperor, racing over to the

  balcony and leaning so far out over the railing he nearly fell on his

  crown. "They're gone! They're gone! My emeralds! My necklaces! My

  necklaces! My emeralds!"

 Now Chalk, who had risen early to nibble the clover while it was still fresh

  with morning dew, looked up in alarm, then as his Master's voice grew

  louder and louder and his gestures more spectacular and desperate, the

  white horse rose up on his hind legs and shook his head in violent warning

  and displeasure. "Hush!" he directed in a low voice. "I'll be right up."

  Making his way quickly but cautiously so as not to arouse the curiosity of

  any of the palace servants already at work in the lower hallways, Chalk

  hurried up to the agitated Emperor.

 "They're g-g-gone!" blubbered Skamperoo, sitting on the edge of the bed and

  crying like a baby. "G-g-g-gone! Now everything is ruined, and I'll have

  nothing left at all!"

 "Well, you still have me," murmured Chalk, resting his head affectionately

  on Skamperoo's shoulder. "Brace up, Kingaling, and for oats sake be

  quiet! No one here knows about the necklaces, and until the rascal who has

  stolen them learns how to use them wee are as safe as soap. That rascal, of

  course, is Matiah. Somehow he has managed to cross the Deadly Desert. Yes,"

  Chalk shook his mane wrathfully, "I am convinced that Matiah has the

  necklaces, but what good are they to him when we alone know the secret that

  makes them work? He'll have to come to us in the end, and when he does!

  Hah!" Chalk expelled the air from his nose in a terrific snort. "Just let

  me take care of him."

 "But shouldn't we give the alarm, have a search made for him, and try to

  recover the emeralds?"

 "Let him alone," counseled the wishing horse firmly. "The thing for you to

  do is to sit tight on the throne of Oz. Remember, you are still the

  Emperor!"

 "But how can I be, without those emeralds?" Skamperoo dabbed at his eyes

  with the satin bedsheet.

 "We got along all right yesterday," said Chalk calmly. "Come, cheer up,

  Skamper, everything will be ALL right."

 "I rather counted on beating the Scarecrow in that race this morning,"

  muttered Skamperoo wistfully. "How can you run as fast as that tireless

  wooden creature who was magically brought to life?"

 "Well, wasn't I magically brought to life?" The white horse shook his mane

  roguishly. "Come along, Kingaling, we'll not only win that race, but we'll

  have back our necklaces and chase Matiah out of Oz before we are through."

 "I I really believe you can do anything," sighed Skamperoo, getting

  almost cheerfully to his feet. "But just the same, I shall keep a sharp

  outlook for Matiah. He might start a revolution."

 "He'll revolute pretty rapidly if I once get my heels on him," promised

  Chalk with a wicked grin. "Come on. Heads up, and who's afraid?" However,

  in spite of the white horse's valiant attempts to comfort him, Skamperoo

  spent a troubled and uneasy day, casting fearful glances behind him when no

  one was looking, searching the happy holiday crowds with haggard glances

  for a glimpse of the long, thin face of Matiah the merchant. Even when

  Chalk beat the Sawhorse in their long, exciting race through the park and

  the crowds cheered themselves hoarse with delight and approval, the victory

  was spoiled by the knowledge that somewhere in the Emerald City lurked his

  most dangerous and relentless foe.

 Chalk, too, though he pretended to regard the matter lightly, was almost as

  worried as his Master and spent every free moment poking his head into

  doorways and peering down side streets and rearing up over walls. And while

  Skamperoo was having his afternoon nap, the white horse systematically

  searched the palace from top to bottom, even the cellar.

 But in the cellar Chalk did not go quite far enough, for it was in a

  hollowed-out chamber under the cellar that the merchant of Skampavia was

  really hidden. Here, with a goodly supply of food stolen from the pantry,

  Matiah had seriously settled down to work out the problem of the emerald

  necklace. He had meant to conceal himself in the cellar itself, but when

  his foot brushed against an iron ring in the floor, he had lifted it up and

  discovered to his delight and satisfaction this still-more-secluded and

  safe retreat.

 The tunnels and rocky chambers below the Palace had been constructed and

  used by Ruggedo, the old Gnome King, when he was plotting to capture the

  Emerald City. Ruggedo himself had been captured, but the underground caves

  and passageways had been left pretty much as they were. There were a number

  of chairs, a rough bed and table, and numerous candles and lamps.

  Altogether it made an ideal workshop for the merchant to try out his

  experiments. In the cellar he might easily have been discovered by any of

  the kitchen boys sent down for supplies, but in Ruggedo's old hideout he

  could be sure of complete privacy. Lighting the largest of the lamps that

  hung on its rusty chain over the table, Matiah seated himself on a rickety

  old chair and prepared to concentrate with all his will power on the

  glittering emeralds. In the sickly green light he made a strange and

  sinister figure as he bent over the table, mumbling and chattering to

  himself. But after a whole day, during which he tried every known formula

  and combination, touching each gem in succession as he made his wish and

  counted to a hundred, he was still no nearer the solution of the mystery

  than he had been in Skampavia.

 First he had tried the diamond clasp of the third necklace, sure that that

  was the key to their power. But nothing at all had happened, and the trick

  of the magic emeralds continued to elude him. To have in his fingers the

  means to immense power and good fortune and still be unable to benefit was

  so infuriating, Matiah began to stamp, splutter, and beat his chest with

  rage and disappointment. Was it for this he had bribed a red eagle with the

  promise of three wishes to carry him across the Deadly Desert? Even now the

  mammoth bird was waiting impatiently on the edge of a little wood near the

  City ready to tear him to pieces if he failed to fulfill his part of the

  bargain.

 No daylight penetrated into the tunneled chamber, and hardly realizing that

  it was now midnight, Matiah from sheer weariness and exasperation finally

  gave up and fell asleep, his head on the table, his hands still clutching

  the provoking chains. Footsteps pattering overhead wakened him at last, and

  also told him someone had come to the cellar for supplies. Stretching

  wearily, he rose and, going over to the stone steps, cautiously ascended

  and lifted the trapdoor. Now thoroughly convinced that the necklaces would

  not work unless worn by someone else, he determined to seize the first

  person entering the cellar and compel him to help.

  The merchant did not have long to wait. All unconscious of the part he was

  to play in Matiah's dark schemes, a young Kitchen Boy came whistling his

  way toward a great, golden bin of potatoes. The bin was just beyond the

  trapdoor, and lowering it to a mere crack, Matiah let the boy pass. Then,

  as he leaned down to fill his basket, the wily merchant flung up the

  trapdoor, fell upon the boy, and carried him kicking and screaming down the

  stairs. Here with threats, promises and innumerable shakings, he finally

  reduced the poor lad to a state of frightened submission. With the

  sparkling necklaces round his neck, he touched one and then another of the

  emeralds as Matiah wished and counted and counted and wished. After each

  unsuccessful trial the merchant would rage and stamp and shake his fists

  till the boy was quite convinced he was in the presence and power of a

  madman and frantically waited for someone to overhear Matiah's ravings and

  come down to rescue him. But nobody did!

 While the unfortunate Kitchen Boy was spending a miserable morning in the

  underground chamber, Skamperoo and Chalk were going through the motions of

  enjoying themselves above stairs, but without any real zest or pleasure.

  Only half-heartedly Skamperoo laughed at the jokes of the Scarecrow, and

  Chalk, for all his bright interest in the long recital of Kabumpo's

  adventures, was really in a fidget of uneasiness, trying to keep an eye on

  all the doors and windows in the Throne Room at once.

 Something was going to happen. The white horse felt it in every bone. And

  just as the soft musical gong sounded the call for luncheon, his worst

  fears were realized. Suddenly, without reason or warning, the castle was

  plunged into total darkness. Thumps, bumps, hysterical shouts and screams

  followed closely on the heels of this disconcerting event. Chalk, who had

  been standing back of Skamperoo, immediately leaned forward and grasped his

  impetuous little Master by the seat of his Royal Breeches.

 "Be still!" commanded the white horse through his teeth and the white

  leather of Skamperoo's riding pants, and he held on for dear life as the

  Emperor, like all the rest of the court and guests, tried to rush in every

  direction.

 "He's done it! He's done it, and everything is ruined," wailed Skamperoo,

  struggling in vain to pull away from Chalk. "Matiah has discovered the

  secret of the necklaces, and now we are ruined. Do you hear? Ruined!"

 "I hear," hissed Chalk, giving Skamperoo a little shake, "and so will

  everyone else unless you shut your mouth. Be quiet, I tell you; do nothing

  till the right moment, unless you want to dash out your brains against a

  pillar in the dark." Too frightened to argue or struggle further, Skamperoo

  at last subsided. All about, courtiers, servants, and guests were screaming

  and bumping into each other or the furniture, and when a stern hand

  suddenly seized his bridle, Chalk trembled violently in spite of himself.

 "Follow me," directed a firm, stern little voice, "and no harm will come to

  you..." Now Chalk had been expecting to see or hear Matiah, and the sound

  of this small, strange voice was a welcome relief and surprise. Taking a

  firmer hold on Skamperoo, he thrust out his head in an endeavor to touch or

  feel the newcomer. As he did so, the hand on his bridle began to tug him

  gently but firmly forward.

 "Look out there, mind what you are about, the Emperor of Oz is just ahead!"

  whinnied Chalk, now thoroughly alarmed. "We are not used to taking orders

  from strangers."

 "Oh, we won't be strangers long," promised the strange voice pleasantly. "So

  THIS is the Emperor of Oz, and is this the way you usually carry him?"

 "Come ON, Bitty Bit, what's the use of all this arguing?" put in another

  voice impatiently. "Let's get out of this confusion. The Wizard's

  laboratory is right across the hall. Tell him to come there."

 "A girl!" decided Chalk with another gulp of relief. "Maybe we are not so

  badly off, after all!" And lifting his head in spite of Skamperoo's great

  weight, he spoke proudly and confidently, "Whoever you are, we welcome you

  to Oz, and if you can explain this unearthly and unexpected darkness, we

  will gladly follow you and do as you say."

 "Good!" chuckled Bitty Bit, tugging manfully at his bridle. "This way,

  please." There was still so much screaming and confusion in the Throne

  Room, no one had overheard the conversation between the newcomers and the

  Emperor's horse, and guided by the invisible hand Chalk crossed the room

  without bumping into anything or anybody. A moment later they were in the

  dark, quiet laboratory that had once belonged to the Wizard of Oz.

 CHAPTER 18

 THE EMPEROR'S HORSE MAKES A BARGAIN

 Bitty Bit's shooting tower had made a record trip to the Emerald City, and

  guided by the little Seer of Some Summit had come to a deft and dexterous

  stop right outside the windows of the great Throne Room. After a short,

  anxious look inside and before anyone was aware of their arrival, Dorothy

  removed the lid from the box of the powder of darkness and threw a generous

  pinch into the air, plunging the Emerald City into an instant and

  thunderous dark. Under cover of this magic darkness, Dorothy, Pigasus and

  Bitty Bit boldly entered the palace and singled out the white horse and his

  terrified Master. They had fully expected some resistance Dorothy had

  brought a long piece of rope, and Pigasus carried a stout club under his

  wing but they were delighted to find the Emperor too frightened and his

  white horse too clever to resist an invisible foe.

 Being able to see in the dark themselves, they had Chalk and Skamperoo at a

  decided advantage. Dorothy's plans, now that they had actually returned to

  the Emerald City, were rather vague, but Bitty Bit knew just what he hoped

  and intended to do. His seerish powers had enabled him to discover that all

  the changes in Oz had been brought about by the magic emeralds which in

  some way had fallen into Skamperoo's hands, and these emeralds Bitty Bit

  meant to have at the earliest possible moment. So first he ordered all the

  windows and doors to the laboratory closed, then, annoyed by the screams

  and crashes still issuing from every room in the castle, he advised Dorothy

  to put the lid back on the powder of darkness.

 "But supposing someone disturbs us before we finish," objected Pigasus,

  looking doubtfully at the tremendous warhorse who stood with feet braced

  and ears back ready to listen or defy them. Somehow Chalk had managed to

  toss Skamperoo back into the saddle, and with both hands fixed grimly in

  the horse's mane the Emperor was blinking his eyes in a vain attempt to see

  them or catch a glimpse of Matiah, for he was convinced that the merchant

  was at the bottom of the whole procedure.

 "If we agree to lift this pall of darkness, will you agree to grant us an

  uninterrupted hour of your time?" asked Bitty Bit, turning toward the

  Emperor, but really addressing the horse, whom he considered the better man

  of the two.

 "I think we can, without undue danger, promise that," answered Chalk

  guardedly, while Skamperoo hemmed and hawed with indecision. "Of course,

  you must promise to use no more magic against us."

 "Well, the same goes for you, too, remember," put in Pigasus quickly. "An

  hour's time and conversation and no trickery."

 "But who who are you?" muttered Skamperoo, finding his voice at last. "I

  seem to hear three different voices."

 "You'll soon see," answered Dorothy, clapping the lid on her powder of

  darkness. With a suddenness that made them all gasp, the laboratory was

  again flooded with the bright noon sunshine, and in a determined row before

  him Skamperoo saw a pretty little girl in green, a fat pink pig with white

  wings, and a small, wrinkled old gentleman in brown.

 "W-why," whinnied Chalk, drawing in a deep breath of relief, "at first I

  thought you were enemies, but now I see that you are merely visitors and

  friends."

 "That depends," observed Bitty Bit, seating himself on a tall stool that

  brought him on a level with Chalk's nose. "I am the Seer of Some Summit,

  but these others are Princess Dorothy and Pigasus, the Winged Pig. They

  really belong in this palace and are close friends of the rightful ruler of

  this country, Ozma of Oz!"

 "I am the rightful ruler of Oz!" shouted Skamperoo, growing red in the face

  and thrusting out his three chins belligerently.

 "Oh, don't bother putting on a show for me," exclaimed Bitty Bit, waving his

  arms impatiently. "Remember, I am a Seer, I know all, I see all, and what

  is more, I TELL ALL! You, my pretty fellow, are really the King of

  Skampavia, a small, no-count country on the other side of the Deadly

  Desert. In some way the long-lost necklaces of Lorna the Wood Nymph have

  come into your possession. With these necklaces you have enchanted the

  people of Oz into believing you are their ruler. You have wickedly banished

  Ozma and her allies and counselors and unlawfully made yourself Emperor of

  Oz."

 "That seems to cover everything," drawled Chalk as Skamperoo turned from red

  to purple.

 "Not everything!" went on Bitty Bit, shaking his finger sternly under

  Chalk's nose. "Kingdoms are not won and held by trickery, my friends, and

  we are here to see that those necklaces are returned and the Kingdom of Oz

  restored to its proper rulers."

 "And suppose we refuse!" suggested the white horse in a bored voice. "What

  then?"

 "Why then," Bitty Bit threw back his shoulders and spun round several times

  on his shiny stool, "why then, it means WAR!" Bitty Bit did not say who

  were his friends or allies or where he should get his armies, but he spoke

  with such firm confidence, both Skamperoo and Chalk were taken aback and

  completely dismayed. Matiah had been bad enough, but this strange and

  determined little Seer was worse.

 "Perhaps we can make a bargain or come to some agreement," suggested Chalk,

  resolved to save what he could for himself and his Master. "Suppose King

  Skamperoo and I agree to return the emerald necklaces, which undoubtedly

  belong in Oz, will you grant us the privilege of using them twice for

  ourselves?"

 "But but " Skamperoo was about to blurt out the fact that they no

  longer had the necklaces when Chalk gave him a savage nip on the leg which

  silenced him effectively.

 "Why should we do that?" inquired Pigasus, fluttering his wings nervously.

  "After all the grief and worry you have caused us, you are lucky to get off

  with your skins."

 "Where are the necklaces now?" asked Dorothy, stepping close to Chalk and

  looking eagerly up into the face of the discomfited Emperor. Skamperoo's

  face grew long as a balloon suddenly punctured, but remembering Chalk's

  last bite, he managed to keep silent.

 "When you have answered OUR question, we will answer yours," stated Chalk,

  firmly but pleasantly. "You can, of course, appeal to the Court and members

  of the household, but I think you will find them entirely satisfied with

  their present Emperor and ready to stand by him to the last man." At

  Chalk's words, Bitty Bit looked rather crestfallen. As the white horse had

  so quietly stated, they were perfectly powerless to take the necklaces by

  force, and quick inspection of the Emperor when he first reached the palace

  had convinced him Skamperoo was not wearing the precious emeralds. At this

  rather embarrassing moment a series of thumps, kicks, and knocks on the

  door made not only the rescuers but the Emperor and Chalk turn rather pale.

 "Oh! Oh! It's Matiah!" quavered Skamperoo, whose nerves were completely

  shaken by the shocking disclosures of the last few moments. "Oh! Oh!

  What'll we do now?"

 "Hold your tongue," advised Chalk, and swinging round he trotted briskly

  over to the door.

 "Who's there?" he demanded in a dignified voice.

 "'Tis I Iva the Kitchen Boy!" stuttered a frightened treble. "I

  must see the Emperor at once."

 "Well, shall we let him in?" Bitty Bit looked uneasily at Pigasus and

  Dorothy and then rather thoughtfully at Chalk.

 "Suit yourselves," yawned the white horse indifferently. "It's probably a

  messenger telling us the pudding is cold with all this delay and darkness.

  You asked for an hour's time and conversation and we agreed to that demand,

  so it is for you to decide what to do, not us."

 "Oh, let him in," fumed Pigasus, "and tell him to stop this hammering and

  yammering. What harm is there in a Kitchen Boy?"

 So Bitty Bit, taking the key from the lock and squinting through the keyhole

  to assure himself there was only a small boy outside, quickly admitted him.

  Now in darted Iva, screaming loudly of a madman in the cellar and bursting

  into tearful and incoherent recital of his woes. Scarcely had he got out

  two sentences before Skamperoo fell bodily off his horse and made a

  desperate snatch at the Kitchen Boy's throat. But Bitty Bit was too quick

  for him. His eyes, too, had caught the glimmer of emeralds, and jerking the

  three chains from the lad's neck as Chalk made a savage lunge forward, he

  tossed them to Pigasus. Catching them on his nose as cleverly as a trained

  seal, the pink pig spread his wings and flew up to the top of a tall

  cabinet, where he sat panting and puffing with satisfaction and defiance.

 "Come down, you fat scoundrel!" roared Skamperoo, dancing up and down like a

  dervish, while the poor Kitchen Boy, outraged by the way both Skamperoo and

  Bitty Bit had rushed upon him, burst into loud sobs and, rushing out the

  still open door, ran crying down the corridor. Slamming the door and

  locking it after him, Bitty Bit rather anxiously waited for Chalk's next

  move, and as usual Chalk was quite prepared and ready to make it.

 "Well," he observed with a jaunty flick of his tail, "now that you have the

  famous wishing emeralds, I suppose you are satisfied, and we may as well

  go. Come along, Skamperoo, you will get nowhere in an argument with a pig.

  Just casting pearls before swine, you know, and he already has our

  emeralds!"

 "You mean your wishing necklaces!" shrieked Pigasus furiously. "And I'll

  tell you what I wish. I wish that you and your silly Master were clams at

  the bottom of the Nonestic Ocean!" Thoroughly shocked and startled by the

  pink pig's unexpected wish, Bitty Bit and Dorothy rushed toward the

  cabinet, hoping in some way to prevent the wish from taking effect. But

  they need not have worried, for of course nothing happened at all. Then

  Skamperoo, urged by Chalk, hastily climbed into the saddle.

 "Well," whinnied the white horse, twitching his ears provokingly, "goodbye

  to you. Goodbye! We'll just be trotting along."

 "Wait! Look here, hold on a bit." The little Seer of Some Summit stepped

  angrily in front of the white horse. "How do these emeralds work, how are

  we to disenchant the rulers of Oz and restore Ozma to the throne unless we

  know the proper way to use these magic chains?"

 "I'm afraid that's YOUR problem," sighed Chalk, rolling his eyes round at

  Skamperoo. "Come now, my little mannikin, open up the door. We kept our

  promise, and you must keep yours. After all, my Master has done no real

  harm here. There has been no war or bloodshed. In fact, everything has been

  decidedly gay and jolly. If his laudable ambition to better himself brought

  Ozma and her counselors a little well-earned rest, at least they have

  suffered no pain or unpleasantness and are perfectly unaware of what has

  happened to them. Open the door, I tell you, or I'll call for help, and

  there are many in this palace who would gladly come to our assistance."

 "Oh! Oh! What shall we do?" wailed Dorothy as Bitty Bit stood uncertainly

  with his back to the door. "You're the horridest horse I've ever known!"

 "Well, that's all in the way you look at me," answered Chalk, staring

  steadily into Dorothy's eyes. "You, my dear, are fond of your Mistress,

  Queen Ozma of Oz, and are trying to help her. I, on my part, am exceedingly

  fond of my Master, the King of Skampavia, and am trying to help him. You

  can't blame me for that, you know."

 "The creature is right," sighed Bitty Bit, "and we'll have to agree to his

  plans, preposterous though they are."

 "That would, of course, be the sensible thing to do," murmured Chalk,

  lowering his eyes modestly. "You grant me two wishes, and I will tell you

  the proper way to use the magic wishing chains."

 "But suppose they are bad wishes I mean," Bitty Bit corrected himself

  hastily, "good for you, but bad for us, what then? With the necklaces in

  your possession, you could wish yourselves away in an instant."

 "That," admitted Chalk, "is perfectly true, but I am afraid you will have to

  take that chance and trust me."

 "Never do it! Never do it!" squealed Pigasus, who now had the necklaces

  tucked tightly under his wing. "We might as well throw ourselves out of the

  window."

 But Bitty Bit, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers close to his

  forehead, made no reply. "I'll trust you," he said after a short silence,

  and opening his eyes, he looked cheerfully up at the white horse. "Hand

  down those necklaces, Pigasus, and be quick about it, too; I hear footsteps

  in the passageway."

 "Well, don't blame me if we're turned to pretzels and pumpernickel," grunted

  the pig, dropping the necklaces into the seer's outstretched hand.

  "Goodbye, all." Turning his back in disgust and covering his ears with his

  wings, Pigasus waited in fear and trembling for the end. But Bitty Bit

  quite calmly handed the emeralds to Skamperoo, and Skamperoo immediately

  draped them over Chalk's left ear.

 "Now, then," murmured Chalk, looking firmly back at the unhappy Emperor,

  "repeat exactly what I say, and all will yet be well. I wish," began Chalk,

  while Skamperoo listened with bulging eyes, "I wish that the five wishes I

  make when we return to Skampavia shall be instantly granted." As Skamperoo

  repeated the wish and slowly started to count to a hundred, Dorothy

  fidgeted with uneasiness, and Pigasus fairly groaned with alarm, for it

  seemed to them both that their danger had only been postponed and not

  averted.

 "My second wish I will keep for our return," decided Chalk. "Now, my dear,

  attend closely. Since you are the avowed friend of Ozma and live with her

  in this palace, it seems to me you are the one to keep safely the secret of

  the magic emeralds." Moving close to Dorothy, Chalk put his soft, pink nose

  close to her ear and whispered several very hoarse sentences. "Get it? Get

  it?" he demanded, backing away exuberantly.

 "Oh is THAT all?" Dorothy pushed back her hair in surprise and

  bewilderment. "Why, anyone could do that!"

 "Then prove it by sending us back to Skampavia," beamed Chalk, shaking his

  mane approvingly. "It would be embarrassing for us to be here when Ozma and

  her friends return. Here, my child, take the necklaces, and I'll do the

  wishing." Pigasus, now more interested than frightened, tried his best to

  see what Dorothy did after she clasped the emeralds around her neck, and

  the white horse solemnly wished himself and Skamperoo back in Skampavia,

  but before Chalk reached ten in his counting, there was a whiff and puff,

  and except for a slight rustle in the air, no sign at all of the splendid

  white steed and his red-faced Master.

 "It works! It works!" exulted Bitty Bit, hopping about like a Brownie. "Can

  you do it again, my dear? All we need to do is to wish that the people of

  Oz shall be released from this wicked spell of forgetting and then wish

  Ozma and all the others safely back to this palace."

 "Don't forget Highboy!" cried Pigasus, switching his little tail violently.

  "He's gone, too, you know, and don't forget Jinnicky and old Willy Green

  Whiskers!"

 "I'll remember!" promised Bitty Bit. "All ready, Dorothy?" The little girl

 nodded, and Bitty Bit, looking and feeling more serious and important than

  he had ever felt in his whole little life, slowly made the wish that was to

  restore peace and happiness to Oz.

 "I wish," said the little sage sternly, "that the wicked enchantment cast by

  Skamperoo upon the inhabitants of Oz be instantly dispelled. I wish that

  Ozma herself, the Wizard of Oz, the Red Jinn of Ev, the King and Queen of

  the Munchkins and their son Prince Philador, the King and Queen of the

  Gillikens and their giant horse, Glinda the Good Sorceress of the South,

  Nick Chopper the Tin Emperor of the East, and the Soldier with the Green

  Whiskers be immediately released from Thunder Mountain and restored to this

  palace. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven."

 At seven Pigasus with a loud squall of astonishment fell from the top of the

  cabinet, and Dorothy rushed joyfully forward. For now every chair around

  the Wizard's table was occupied. At the head sat Ozma, calm and gracious as

  ever; at the foot the spry little Wizard; and between, all the others who

  had so recently lain at the bottom of Lightning Lake. Highboy stood over by

  the window looking dreamily out across the garden, and none of them seemed

  in the least surprised or excited to find themselves in the Wizard's

  laboratory.

 "Let me see " mused Ozma, raising her hand gravely, "Ah, yes, we are here

  to discuss a threatened danger to ourselves and the Kingdom of Oz."

 "But it's all over now," cried Dorothy, running over to Ozma and flinging

  both arms round her waist. "It's all over, and we're safe and you're safe

  and my, how glad we are to have you back here again!"

 "Here!" exclaimed the Wizard, popping up like a startled Jack-in-the-Box.

  "Where else would we be?"

 "Only at the bottom of Lightning Lake in Thunder Mountain," murmured Bitty

  Bit, coming modestly forward to meet the Fairy Ruler of Oz and winking

  merrily at Jinnicky, whom he already knew."

 CHAPTER 19

 THE STORY OF THE NECKLACES

 Ozma's surprise and the astonishment of all the rest of that company around

  the Wizard's table can well be imagined.

 "I didn't hear any thunder," snorted Highboy, lowering himself down to Bitty

  Bit's level. "Not a clap! And if we were at the bottom of Lightning Lake,

  what did we eat?"

 "We didn't!" announced Jinnicky in a hollow voice, "What COULD we have eaten

  in such a place, you old fire-eater, you?" To have been enchanted and put

  out of existence for three whole days was an amazing experience, and as

  Dorothy and Bitty Bit, helped out now and then by Pigasus, explained all

  that had happened to the victims of Skamperoo's ambition and to themselves

  in the course of their journey of rescue, Ozma's face grew both grave and

  serious. It was disturbing to realize how easily Oz had been captured and

  the powerful Wizards and Glinda the Sorceress pushed aside. The Wizard of

  Oz himself seemed to feel the most discouraged and downcast of all to think

  he had been so easily overcome, and that his magic had not been strong

  enough to withstand the wicked spell of the invaders.

 "I should have foreseen something like this and been prepared," mourned the

  little man, mopping his head with a map of Oz which he happened to have in

  his pocket.

 "Yes," sighed the Tin Woodman, feeling his joints anxiously to see whether

  they had been rusted by his three-day immersion in Lightning Lake, "we

  might have been prisoners in Thunder Mountain forever had it not been for

  Dorothy and Pigasus and this sagacious little Seer. But tell me, Dorothy,

  how is it that you alone of all the people in the palace remembered and

  missed us?"

 "Well," confessed Dorothy, seating herself cautiously on Nick Chopper's tin

  knees, "it must have been the Wizard's wishing pill. You see, just as the

  Soldier's beard turned red, I found one in my pocket and popping it into my

  mouth wished that I might save Oz from any danger that threatened. It kept

  me from forgetting Ozma and all of you, and when I sat on Pigasus' back, he

  remembered, too, and we"

 "Did save Oz!" finished the little Wizard, bounding triumphantly to his feet

  and restored to instant cheerfulness by Dorothy's generous statement. "I

  tell you, I'll match my wishing powers with any wishing powers in the

  country!"

 "But you won't have to now," smiled Bitty Bit with an envious glance at the

  sparkling necklaces Dorothy had placed on the table before Ozma. "With

  these emeralds and your own magic powers, nothing like this could ever

  happen in Oz again."

 "Thank you, Bitty Bit," smiled the little Queen, nodding graciously. "Thank

  you a hundred times for all you have done for us and for Oz, and perhaps,

  if we coaxed, you might remain as our Royal Seer."

 "Hear, here, our Royal Seer!" cried Pigasus, clapping his wings. "Will you

  be it, Sir Bitty Bit?"

 "Well," acknowledged Bitty Bit with a low bow toward Ozma, "I'm tempted to

  accept, but on the other hand, I am so foolishly fond of my own castle I

  just could not be content in any other place. But if Your Majesty ever

  needs me for serious business, you can always command my services by using

  either the wishing necklaces or your magic belt."

 "And he'll come like a shot in his shooting tower," Dorothy smiled as she

  slid carefully from Nick Chopper's knee. "But say, what's that?" A hundred

  footsteps sounded in the corridor, accompanied by confused voices,

  questioning calls and finally loud thumps on the door. "It must be all the

  rest of the courtiers and visitors remembering they have a Queen!"

 "I hear Scraps and the Scarecrow," squealed Pigasus, "I hear Bettsy Bobb and

  Trot. Quick, Dorothy, open the door."

 "No, no, not yet," said Ozma gently but firmly. "There is more, much more

  for us to hear and settle. But you go out, Pigasus, and tell them all about

  our enchantment, Skamperoo's reign, and our rescue."

 "Be glad to! Charmed! And trust me to do it right." Swelling up with

  importance and pride, Pigasus flew out the window before Dorothy had time

  to open the door. A few moments later the company in the Wizard's

  laboratory heard him calling everyone to follow him to the Throne Room and

  hear the most startling news since Dorothy killed the Wicked Witches of the

  East and West.

 "And how he'll love telling it," said Bitty Bit, smiling across at the

  Wizard of Ev. "A great idea of yours, this pig, Jinny. Even if his verses

  are low, I like him."

 "Oh, everyone likes Pigasus," declared Dorothy, coming over to sit on the

  arm of Glinda's chair. "But what I'd like to know is how that Kitchen Boy

  happened to have the emeralds, how Skamperoo got them, and where they came

  from in the first place."

 "Yes," murmured Glinda, who, like the Wizard, felt very much annoyed to have

  been overpowered by a fat, unimportant monarch like Skamperoo. "Now that we

  have these wishing chains, we must guard them carefully to keep them from

  falling into such mischievous hands again."

 "I believe Bitty Bit can tell us the story of the emeralds," said Ozma, who

  had been much impressed by the cheerful little seer of Some Summit. "With

  his gift of foreseeing and foretelling he probably knows the whole story."

 "Can he look backward as well as forward?" inquired the Wizard

  challengingly.

 "Just as well," confessed Bitty Bit with an embarrassed little cough, and as

  every head turned expectantly toward him, the sage closed his eyes and

  quietly told them the interesting story of Matiah's three necklaces.

 "These magic emeralds," began Bitty Bit, waving his hands rhythmically

  backward and forward, "were first collected and strung into necklaces by a

  wizard named Wam for the King of the Green Mountain as a gift for the wood

  nymph Lorna. But the King of the Green Mountain was an ugly little dwarf,

  and though she had promised to marry him, no sooner did Lorna have the

  necklaces than she turned the King into a frog and hid herself away in her

  own forest.

 "In the giant hollow tree where Lorna lived there was a mischievous family

  of squirrels. That night as Lorna lay sleeping with the emeralds on a

  little golden plate beside her, one of the squirrels, thinking the gems

  some new and delicious kind of nuts, stole and buried them away for the

  winter. Next morning, though Lorna ran crying and searching all through the

  forest, she was unable to find her wishing necklaces."

 "Then what became of them?" gasped Dorothy as Bitty Bit, opening his eyes

  for a moment, blinked cheerfully over their heads.

 "Wait, I'll tell you!" Closing his eyes, the sage went hurriedly on with the

  story. "Ah, so this is it! A woodcutter's boy, poking about among the

  leaves, found the emeralds, and as emeralds in themselves are not uncommon

  in Oz, he traded them to a peddler for a new ax. The peddler, arriving

  after a long while in Skampavia, had no trouble in disposing of the jewels.

  In Skampavia, you must know, emeralds, pearls, or jewels of any kind are

  practically unknown, and a merchant gave the peddler not only his house and

  shop, but all of his merchandise for the three sparkling chains.

 "By a law in Skampavia, every subject must render to the King one-third of

  all he owns or raises, and in due course one of the necklaces was sent to

  Skamperoo. The King, delighted with the sparkling gems, insisted on having

  all three necklaces, and Matiah himself brought them to the castle,

  determined if possible to steal them back at the first opportunity. In

  order to do so without arousing the suspicions of the King, he pretends to

  be a Wizard and tells him if he, Matiah, wears the three necklaces, he can

  grant any wish the King may make, but that as he makes the wish he must

  close his eyes and count to a hundred.

 "As soon as Skamperoo began to count, Matiah started to run off with the

  emeralds, and that accounts for the white horse, for you see, Skamperoo's

  first wish was for a splendid white charger with a golden mane and tail.

  Frightened almost out of his senses by the sudden appearance of the horse

  and the knowledge that the chains really did have some magic power, Matiah

  steals back beside the King, resolved to wait for another opportunity to

  procure the necklaces.

 "Meanwhile, Skamperoo, excited and happy over the granting of his first

  wish, confides in the merchant his second wish and ambition to be ruler of

  Oz. Matiah, to gain time in which he can work out the secret of the

  emeralds' power, approves of the King's idea, but tells him he can only

  grant one wish a week. He then advises Skamperoo to cause all the people in

  Oz to forget their former rulers and to remove the Wizard and all his

  magic, Ozma, and the rulers of the four Oz countries to the inaccessible

  caverns of Thunder Mountain.

 "Now while Matiah is trying his best to discover the trick of the magic

  emeralds, Skamperoo, growing tired of the tempery fellow, appealed to his

  horse. The horse, being magically brought to life and being unusually

  sharp-witted and quick, soon worked out the problem. With his help

  Skamperoo wished the spell of forgetting upon Ozma's subjects, banished her

  Highness and all of the others just as Matiah had suggested, and managed to

  rule Oz for three whole days."

 "But what became of Matiah?" asked Glinda, leaning forward eagerly.

 "At this moment Matiah is lying in a senseless condition in the underground

  chamber beneath this castle," Bitty Bit told them solemnly and without

  opening his eyes. "Soon after Skamperoo left for Oz, the merchant was

  driven out of Skampavia by Pinny Penny, whom Skamperoo had made King.

  Matiah, furious to think the apparently stupid sovereign had outwitted him,

  bribed an eagle to carry him across the desert, arrived at the Emerald City

  and soon afterward managed to really steal the necklaces from Skamperoo.

  Discovering beneath the cellar the excavated chambers of the old Gnome

  King, he retired to this quiet spot to again experiment with the emeralds.

 "Needing another person to help, he seized the Kitchen Boy who had come to

  the cellar for supplies and forced him to assist in his experiments. How

  soon he might have discovered the real trick of the chains I cannot say,

  but our own arrival and Gloma's powder of darkness happily interrupted him.

  The Kitchen Boy, who had kept his eyes glued to the stone steps and

  trapdoor during the entire morning, made an immediate dash for freedom and

  managed to escape in spite of the darkness. Matiah, not so fortunate,

  rushed into a stone pillar and knocked himself senseless. He's still lying

  there, and I suggest that your Majesty deal with him at once."

 "I will," decided Ozma firmly, as Bitty Bit opened his eyes and looked

  cheerfully around the table. "And I'll do it by means of these very magic

  emeralds. Put on the emeralds, Dorothy, for you alone know the secret of

  their magic power." So Dorothy, anxious to have Matiah out of Oz before he

  recovered his wicked wits, hastily clasped the three chains around her slim

  throat.

 "It is my earnest wish that Matiah shall immediately and henceforth forget

  the emerald necklaces of Oz, return to his country, and become a good and

  simple citizen of Skampavia," said Ozma seriously, beginning her count to

  one hundred.

 "He's gone! He's gone!" piped up Bitty Bit, who had closed his eyes as soon

  as Ozma started to speak. "And if I were you, my dear, I would send off

  that red eagle, too. I see him lurking on the edge of our city with an

  exceedingly fierce light in his eye." So Ozma made another wish, turning

  the eagle to a harmless sparrow.

 "And what about Skamperoo?" asked Cheeriobed, King of the Munchkins, who up

  to this time had not spoken a word. "Should he not be punished in some

  way?"

 "I would not bother with old Skamper," advised Bitty Bit with a small

  chuckle. "Before I agreed to give his white horse those five wishes, I

  closed my eyes, looked ahead, and discovered that they would all be good

  wishes. Not only good but wise, and from now on I think you can trust that

  clever white horse and a little fellow called Pinny Penny to keep their

  Master out of mischief and Oz."

 "Well, in that case," sighed Ozma rather breathless from so much counting,

  "everything is happily settled."

 "And in that case," boomed Joe King, gallantly helping his little Queen to

  her feet, "I suggest we start celebrating all over again, not only the

  discovery of Oz by mortals, but the saving of Oz as well! I for one feel

  terribly cheated at missing Notta's circus."

 "So do I! So do I!" exclaimed the little Prince Philador, climbing

  boisterously into Highboy's saddle. "I want to see a circus!"

 "And so you shall," promised Ozma gaily. "We will start the celebration at

  exactly the point where we left Oz for Thunder Mountain, and have the

  tableaux, the pageants, and the picnics all over again."

 And that, my dear, is exactly what they did do, and everyone, including

  Bitty Bit, enjoyed themselves so much there was not an unhappy person in

  the Emerald City. And not until the end of the second day did Dorothy

  remember to tell Ozma the magic secret of the wishing emeralds. "On the

  sixth count, you wink both eyes," whispered Dorothy, giving Ozma a little

  hug. "Good night!"

 "Good gracious, so THAT'S it!" smiled Ozma, comprehending instantly what

  Dorothy meant. "I suppose Matiah did it in sheer excitement the first time.

  Well, I have often heard of doing things in the twinkling of an eye, but

  now we shall really be able to have them that way. No one knows this secret

  but you and me and a white horse, and no one must ever know it, for

  wishes are dangerous and cause more unhappiness than joy, so we'll never

  tell another soul, will we, Dorothy?"

 "Never!" agreed the little girl, looking solemnly over her shoulder at the

  safe where Ozma had hidden her new treasure.

 CHAPTER 20

 BACK IN SKAMPAVIA!

 "So there you are!" Pinny Penny straightened up with a little grimace, for

  he had been planting flowers in a new rock garden he was planning for the

  King. With an expression about equally compounded of exasperation and

  affection, he looked at his former Master and the white horse who had,

  without sound or warning, dropped down in the path before him. "I thought

  you'd come back," continued Pinny Penny, calmly rubbing the mud from his

  fingers and putting out his hand. "So it was your horse after all." His

  gaze rested speculatively on the splendid white steed and richly jeweled

  robes of Skamperoo. "And you've made your fortune, I see! Well, welcome

  home anyway; your crown's hanging on a nail back of the throne, and I think

  you will find everything in order."

 "In order! Why, it looks wonderful!" shouted Skamperoo, leaping exuberantly

  out of the saddle and honestly surprised and pleased at the pleasure he

  felt in seeing old Pinny Penny again. "You've had the palace painted, and

  this garden and that fountain and the flowers. They're all new, aren't

  they?"

 "Yes," agreed Pinny Penny guardedly. "I made a few new laws while you were

  gone, Skamper, making the tax only one-twentieth of our subjects' earnings.

  They were so grateful and delighted, they've been sending you presents ever

  since. Then the guards (having no drill or marching to bother them, I did

  away with THAT, too), the guards in their odd time agreed to work around

  the castle, and we've been brightening up the old place quite a bit. I tell

  you," Pinny Penny exhaled his breath noisily, "we'll make a going and

  coming country of this yet!"

 "Of course we will," said Skamperoo, bouncing happily along at his side.

  "I've had a lot of experience since I saw you, old Skinny Pins. Ho, Pinny,

  my boy, I've been an Emperor in Oz!"

 "OZ? Never!" Closing his lips into a thin line, Pinny Penny looked from his

  Master to Chalk, who was stepping sedately along on his other side.

 "But it's perfectly true," whinnied the white horse, prancing a bit from

  sheer enjoyment, "and now we are home with five splendid wishes."

 "Wishes?" sniffed Pinny Penny, rearing his head suspiciously. "What good are

  wishes?"

 "But these wishes really work and come true," explained Chalk with a toss of

  his head, "and what's more, they are going to work and come true for

  Skampavia!"

 "Any wish you work hard enough for will come true," insisted Pinny Penny

  stubbornly. "Wishes POOH! Wishes POOH! `If wishes were horses,

  beggars would ride!'" finished the little Prime Minister half under

  his breath.

 "But don't you see?" Skamperoo grasped Pinny Penny firmly by the shoulders.

  "This is one time when wishes WERE horses and beggars DID ride. My first

  wish was for a horse, and here he is, and as true as you are and as wise

  and clever. Why, even if the magic emeralds give me nothing more, I am

  still the luckiest fellow on this side of the Deadly Desert!"

 "Moons, stars and rainbows! I believe you have gotten some sense," gasped

  Pinny Penny, staring with wide eyes into Skamperoo's face. "And that's the

  first good I ever knew to come of magic."

 Pulling Pinny Penny down to his old bench, now neatly mended and painted

  green, the King of Skampavia told his little Prime Minister the whole story

  I have just been telling you. When he finished and settled back

  complacently, Pinny Penny, instead of looking glad or pleased, stared

  mournfully at the ground.

 "Now what's the matter?" demanded Skamperoo, clapping him impatiently on

  the back while Chalk, breaking off a little branch with his teeth, tickled

  Pinny Penny mischievously under the chin. "Why are you so sad and solemn?"

 "Because " Pinny Penny ground the toe of his boot deeply into the gravel

  in the path "if you really have five more magic wishes, you'll

  probably be going to some grand other place and be spending the rest of

  your life in travel."

 "If that were so, we wouldn't be here at all," puffed Skamperoo. "Now get

  this through your head, old fellow. We are here by our own wish and from

  now on my country is good enough for me and, when we've made these five

  good wishes, good enough for anybody!"

 "There you go! There you go!" groaned Pinny Penny, covering his face with

  his hands. "It's the wishes I'm afraid of."

 "Well, you needn't be!" With a great effort, Skamperoo made his first really

  great and wise decision. "You shall make the wishes yourself, Pinny Penny,

  and I shall save only one in case of trouble!"

 "Bravo! Bravo!" snorted Chalk, prancing three times round the green bench.

 "Me? You really mean me?" quavered Pinny Penny, pointing an unbelieving

  finger at his own midsection. Then, as Skamperoo nodded and before he could

  change his mind, the old Chancellor fairly leaped into the air. "I wish the

  King of this country to always be as wise and generous as he has succeeded

  in being at this moment, as wise as the young Fairy Ruler of Oz," panted

  Pinny Penny. "I wish that the people of Skampavia, using the powers and

  abilities they already have, shall make this a rich, happy and prosperous

  Kingdom. I wish that the climate and soil, the only bad features about

  which we might complain, shall become mild and fertile! That's all, that's

  all I can think of!" confessed Pinny Penny, shrinking happily back on the

  bench.

 "Then I'll make a wish," whinnied Chalk, shaking his beautiful golden mane.

  "I wish that we three may never be separated. Long live the KING AND HIS

  PRIME MINISTER!"

 "And his horse!" cried Skamperoo, bounding up to seize Chalk's bridle.

 "And his horse!" echoed Pinny Penny heartily, running round to seize Chalk's

  bridle on the other side. "We three for Skampavia forever!"

 Then, with Chalk stepping proudly in the center, these three strangely

  assorted comrades made their way into the palace. Knowing the power of the

  magic emeralds and also the magic power of knowledge and experience, I am

  sure that Skampavia under its new regime will soon be as happy and

  prosperous as any Nation in Oz!

 THE END