Ozoplaning With The Wizard Of Oz – Oz 33

 L. Frank Baum

  

  

  

  

  

 BY RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON

 Reilly & Lee edition, copyright 1939

 CHAPTER 1

 AT HOME WITH THE WIZARD OF OZ

 In his big, brightly lighted laboratory back of the throne room, the Wizard

  of Oz paced impatiently forth and back, his hands clasped tightly behind

  him. Every minute or two he would glance at the clock or dart over to peer

  out to the already-darkening garden.

 "Are you sure you told them all, Jellia? Are you sure you told them

  tonight?" he asked, turning to the pretty little serving maid who was

  setting a table near the fire, for the fall evening was quite cool and

  frosty.

 "Four, five, six, sevenFF20C4" Jellia, counting places, nodded her head

  firmly to answer the Wizard's question, then stepped back to regard her

  handiwork with complete satisfaction. "Oh, doesn't that tiny house in the

  center look too cute and cunningish? Real smoke coming out of the chimney,

  too. How ever did you manage it, Wiz? And having those silver slippers at

  each place for nuts and candies is just plain beautiful."

 "Do you really think so?" The little Wizard positively blushed with

  pleasure. "Well, ye see, Jellia, this party is to celebrate Dorothy's first

  trip to theEmeraldCity. That is an exact model of the house in which she

  blew fromKansasto Oz in a cyclone, the house that fell on the Wicked

  Witch of the West and destroyed her, all but her silver slippers.

  Remember?"

 "Ho, everybody remembers that," said Jellia with a toss of her head that set

  all her green cap ribbons fluttering. "If I live to be a million, I'll

  never forget the day she came to this castle with the Cowardly Lion, the

  Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman. Not if I live to be a million! Will I light

  the candles now, Wiz dear, or wait until they arrive?"

 "Oh, wait till they arrive, by all means. But see here," the Wizard, taking

  a last look at the party table, was plainly distressed. "You've only seven

  places, Jellia, and there are eight of us. My idea was to have everyone

  immediately associated with Dorothy's first visit, and that would be: one,

  Dorothy herself; two, myself; three, yourself; four, the Cowardly Lion;

  five, the Scarecrow; six, the Tin Woodman; seven, the Soldier with the

  Green Whiskers; and eight, the Guardian of the Gate. Quick, my dear!

  Another plate for the Guardian of the Gate."

 "He's not coming," announced Jellia primly. "He says he has not deserted his

  post for forty years and does not intend to desert it now. But if you'll

  send his refreshments to the Guard House, he'll take it very kindly. I've

  already fixed him a basket," said Jellia, smoothing her apron.

 "Good old Guardy!" The Wizard absently brushed back the hair he no longer

  had, then, hearing voices and steps in the corridor, bounced over to open

  the door while Jellia tripped joyously about, lighting the candles set

  everywhere in the big workshop. Candle and fire light are so much cozier

  for parties, and it all looked so cheery and gay that Dorothy, who was

  first, stopped short in the doorway with an exclamation of delight.

 "Oh, Wizard! How beautiful! Oh, how I do wish Ozma could see it all!"

 "Tut tut!" chuckled the Wizard, leading her into the room. "Ozma is having a

  fine time in Glinda's palace by now. To tell the truth, Dorothy, this party

  is just for YOU and to remind us all of the old Oz days whenFF20C4"

 "You were nothing but a humbug," snorted the Scarecrow, laughing so hard he

  had to lean against the door jamb.

 "Don't forget he gave you your famous brains, friend." The Tin Woodman spoke

  reprovingly, for Nick Chopper did not like anyone's feelings to be hurt,

  even in fun. "And don't forget he gave me my splendid heart!"

 "And me my grade A, double-distilled, instant-acting courage," purred the

  Cowardly Lion. Moving over to the fire, the big beast stretched himself

  luxuriously on the hearth rug.

 "And don't forget our little Wiz was once Supreme Ruler of Oz!" boomed the

  Soldier with the Green Whiskers. Marching three times round the party

  table, the thin, immensely tall soldier brought up with a smart salute

  before their embarrassed little host.

 "Three cheers for the Wizard of Oz!" cried Jellia Jam. Seizing a silver bell

  with an emerald clapper, she rang it so hard the Cowardly Lion's mane blew

  straight back, and even the candles flickered.

 "Thank you! Thank you very much!" The Wizard bowed and rubbed his ear, which

  still tingled from the cheers and bell-ringing. "But where is Toto,

  Dorothy? I thought of course you'd bring your little dog."

 "Oh, Toto's with Ozma," explained Dorothy, drawn in spite of herself to the

  brightly decorated party table. "You know how he dotes on traveling, so

  Ozma took him along for company."

 "Then of course he cannot be here," sighed the Wizard regretfully. "Now

  Jellia, off with that cap and apron. Tonight you are my guest and not a

  maid-in-waiting to Ozma or anyone else. Dorothy, suppose you sit at the

  head. I'll sit at the foot, and the others may find their own places."

 "My place will always be next to little Dorothy," rumbled the Cowardly Lion,

  hoisting himself sleepily to the chair beside the little girl.

 "Mine will be next to the pickles. MM-mmmm! I LOVE pickles," said the

  Soldier, slipping into the seat next to the lion, while Jellia, with a

  purposeful bounce, settled near a plate of green cookies. There was no

  doubt where the Tin Woodman and Scarecrow would sit, for at one plate the

  Wizard had put a silver box of metal polish and an emerald bottle

  containing purest oil. Then, instead of a chair, he had provided a bale of

  freshly packed straw for the Scarecrow.

 "Well, well, here we all are!" Rubbing his hands briskly, the Wizard beamed

  on his guests as Fredjon, wearing his best suit of green and silver,

  bustled in with the first course.

 "And isn't it fun to be here?" Dorothy took a long, satisfying sip of her

  Ozade. "I'm awfully glad I came back to live in theLandofOz. Aren'tyou,

  Wizard?"

 "A country where a body grows no older, where animals talk as easily as men

  and where the practice of magic is not only possible but practical, a

  country like that has many advantages," admitted the Wizard, winking at the

  Cowardly Lion, who was drinking his fruit juice in a refined way from a

  huge, green aquarium. "I myself never have regretted the years spent in

  this marvelous fairyland. Sometimes I hardly can believe I ever did live in

  Omaha, or travel through the West with a circus."

 "I know," agreed Dorothy, nodding her head slowly. "Kansas, when I think of

  it, seems very far away, as much like a dream, I suppose, as Oz seems like

  a dream to boys and girls inKansaswho read Oz history."

 "Oh, why think ofKansas?" Jellia spoke scornfully. "InKansasyou were only

  an ordinary little girl, while here you are a Princess and second in

  importance to our Ruler, Ozma, herself."

 "And inKansas," observed the Scarecrow as Dorothy rather self-consciously

  straightened her crown, "I'll bet you never had as much fun or as many

  adventures as we have here." The Scarecrow, being well stuffed with straw,

  never indulged in any refreshments. In fact, he just came to parties for

  the conversation, and to be sure of a good time, he tried to do all the

  talking himself.

 "That's right," said Dorothy thoughtfully, "that cyclone was about the only

  thing that ever happened inKansas."

 "A great blow to you, my dear, but a fortunate thing for Nick and me." The

  Scarecrow patted the Tin Woodman affectionately on the funnel he wore for a

  hat. "If you had not blown to Oz, I'd probably still be hanging on a pole

  in that cornfield, and Nick would be rusting away his life in the

  greenwood."

 "And in some ways," mused Dorothy, looking dreamily at the model of her

  smallKansashouse, "in some ways that first adventure always will seem

  best. Just imagine how surprised I was to blow all those miles and find

  myself in a strange, wonderful country like Oz. The Munchkins thought I was

  a sorceress because my house had killed the Wicked Witch of the East. Then

  the Good Witch of the North told me to put on her silver shoes and go to

  the Emerald City to ask the great OZ to send me home. And on the way I

  discovered you, and do you remember how astonished I was when I lifted you

  down from your pole and found you really were alive and could talk?"

 The Scarecrow nodded cheerfully.

 "And remember how we traveled on together till we found the Tin Woodman?"

  went on Dorothy. "And Nick told us about the witch who had enchanted his

  axe so that it chopped off a leg here and an arm there, and finally his

  head and body, too. And after each accident he'd go to a tinsmith who made

  him new tin arms and legs and finally even a body and a head. You didn't

  mind being Tin at all, did you, Nick? Except that day you went out to chop

  wood and left your oil can at home. Then that storm came up, your joints

  rusted, and you couldn't move, and there you had been, rusting and helpless

  for months!"

 "But we hustled back to your hut, fetched the oil can and fixed you up in

  fine shape, didn't we, old fellow?" The Scarecrow flung his flimsy arm

  around Nick Chopper's shoulder, and the Tin Woodman, at the mere mention of

  rust, uncorked the emerald bottle and let three drops of oil slide down his

  neck.

 "I never shall forget your kindness," he told them earnestly, turning his

  head first to look at Dorothy and then at the Scarecrow.

 "And after that you came along so the Wizard could give you a new heart,"

  Dorothy reminded him gaily. "And right afterwards, we met the Cowardly

  Lion."

 "And he was more afraid of us than we were of him," teased the Scarecrow,

  leaning across the table to give the lion a poke.

 "Yes, I was just a big coward in those days," admitted the lion, blinking

  approvingly at the rare roast Fredjon had brought him instead of the

  chicken he was serving the others. "Just a great big coward! Ho, hum!"

 "But not too cowardly to fight for us," said Dorothy, taking quick little

  bites of her biscuit, "and to come with us to the Emerald City."

 "Oh, that was because I wanted the Wizard to give me some courage," roared

  the lion. "And weren't we surprised when we did reach the Emerald City to

  find it all built of green marble, studded with real emeralds! And remember

  how the Guardian of the Gate gave us all green specs, even me, and then led

  us up to the palace?"

 "You looked awfully funny in those specs!" laughed Dorothy. "I'll never

  forget how funny!"

 "But remember, it was I who carried your messages to Oz," put in the Soldier

  with Green Whiskers.

 "Of course it was," said Dorothy, nodding her head quickly. "You gave us

  some splendid advice, Soldier, and Jellia showed us to the grandest rooms

  in the castle and loaned me the loveliest dresses to wear."

 "I liked you from the very first!" declared Jellia, choking a bit on her

  seventh cooky.

 "But Old Man Wizzy wouldn't give us a thing!" said the Scarecrow, waving his

  napkin toward the head of the table. "He told us we'd have to kill the

  Witch of the West before he'd send Dorothy home or grant any of our

  requests."

 "But you see, I didn't know any real magic then." The Wizard looked quite

  unhappy, for he did not like to remember the time before he was a $$real&&

  Wizard. "And besides, I needed more time."

 "Ho ho! You were doing very well for yourself!" chuckled the Scarecrow.

  "Living in a splendid castle and having the whole country eating out of

  your hand. As it happened, we did kill the witch of the West, or at least

  Dorothy melted her with a bucket of water, and the Winkies were so tickled

  they gave us all presents and made Nick their Emperor. So when we got back

  at last, you did give me some brand-new brains, and Nick a red plush

  heartFF20C4"

 "And me some real red, true-blue courage," grinned the Cowardly Lion, wiping

  his mouth delicately with the tip of his tail.

 "And you made me Ruler of OZ! Ah! My Majesty the Scarecrow, Hah, those were

  the days!" The Scarecrow thumped his pudgy chest and fairly glowed at the

  memory.

 "You would have taken me back to Kansas, too, only your balloon flew away

  too fast, didn't it?" Dorothy leaned all the way across the table to pat

  the Wizard's arm.

 "But don't forget it was I who told you to go to the palace of Glinda, the

  Good Sorceress of the South," interrupted the Soldier with Green Whiskers

  again.

 "So we all went to Glinda's," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, half closing his

  eyes. "And Glinda told Dorothy the Witch's silver shoes would carry her

  home. And they did!" There was a little silence following the lion's last

  sentence, as if all of Dorothy's friends were recalling their sorrow at

  that first parting from their cheerful little comrade.

 "But you came back," declared the Scarecrow, balancing a fork on the edge of

  his tumbler. "And so did our little Wizard."

 "Well, to tell the truth, Omaha seemed rather dull after the Emerald City,"

  admitted the Wizard, motioning for Fredjon to bring on the dessert. This

  caused many admiring "Oh's" and "Ah's" when it arrived, for it was ice

  cream moulded into small Tin Woodmen, Scarecrows, Lions, and all the other

  guests. Then, out of a huge, frosted cake the footman set down before

  Dorothy, flew four little witches riding green broomsticks, straight into

  the fire.

 "I tell you, it takes a real Wizard to perform a trick like that." Nick

  Chopper wagged his head solemnly. "You certainly have made progress since

  Ozma made you Chief Magician of the Realm."

 "WellFF20C4" drawled the Wizard, pushing the pickle dish away from the

  Soldier with Green Whiskers, who already had eaten twenty-seven and was

  looking rather dill. "Magic is like any other science: it takes practice.

  Of course, if you are a born fairy like Ozma and the former rulers of Oz,

  working spells and charms just comes natural, like playing the piano by

  ear. But if you are not a Fairy, you must study witchcraft and sorcery as I

  have done with Glinda the Good. It only has been by continuous study and

  research that I have managed to perfect myself in the arts of wizardry."

 "Well, how is wizness lately?" inquired the Scarecrow, wrinkling his cotton

  forehead at all the big words.

 "Fine, just fine!" The Wizard assured him brightly. Marching over to his

  desk, he returned with a long, tube-like object resembling a seaman's

  spyglass. "This is one of my latest inventions," he confessed modestly.

  "Here, take a look." Beaming with anticipation, he pressed the spyglass

  into Dorothy's hands.

 CHAPTER 2

 THE WIZARD'S SPY GLASS

 With the Wizard's latest invention clapped to one eye and pointed straight

  at the Wizard himself, Dorothy peered through the green glass hardly

  knowing what to expect. Certainly not what happened, for from the other end

  of the instrument a composed voice began making announcements proudly and

  impressively as a radio speaker.

 "You are now looking at Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmanuel

  Ambroise Diggs," it informed them crisply. "Calls himself Oz after the

  first letters of his first two names, as his other initials spell Pinhead.

  Born in Omaha, Diggs ran away as a young man to join a circus, where he

  made balloon ascensions to amuse the crowds, his balloon bearing his

  initials, O.Z.

 "One day in a storm, Oscar's balloon was carried to our wonderful Land of

  Oz. At that time, the rightful King of the Country and his son had been

  destroyed by Mombi the Witch, who also had enchanted and hidden away Ozma,

  the little Granddaughter of this unfortunate monarch. And four witches had

  divided the country between them. When the balloon bearing the name OZ on

  its side sailed out of the clouds, the inhabitants instantly hailed the

  traveler from America as their ruler, supposing him to be another member of

  the famous fairy family of Oz. Unable to return to America, Oz accepted the

  people's decision with good grace and ruled the realm for many years. Under

  his wise direction the people built this castle and the famous City of

  Emeralds; and the four witches, thinking Oz more powerful than they, did

  not question his rule or authority.

 "Later, when little Dorothy from Kansas arrived in Oz, the Wizard decided to

  return with her to the United States, leaving the Scarecrow to rule in his

  place. The Scarecrow was deposed by Jinjur and her Army of Girls. Jinjur in

  turn was conquered by Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, who also forced

  Mombi to disenchant Ozma, the young and rightful girl ruler of the realm.

  Ozma has ruled over Oz ever since. Not long after Ozma was restored to her

  throne, the Wizard returned to Oz and our clever girl ruler made him Chief

  Magician of the realm. In this ancient and honorable capacity he has served

  ever since, PERIOD C4 STOP C4 DROP OR POINT ELSEWHERE!" These last words

  were uttered so rudely, Dorothy almost did drop the spyglass.

 "My! MY GOODNESS!" gasped the little girl.

 "It always says that when it has told all it knows. You see, it is a

  `tell-all-escope.'FF20" explained the Wizard, reaching out for his

  spyglass with an embarrassed cough.

 "And it certainly tells ALL, all right!" roared the Scarecrow, pushing back

  his chair. "Congratulations, my dear Mr. Diggs!"

 "Look out! Be careful! Don't you point that thing at me! $$Please&& don't!"

  The big lion simply cowered in his chair, and no wonder he felt nervous.

  There had been some pretty savage incidents in that old lion's life before

  he met Dorothy and came to live in the Emerald City as a civilized citizen

  of Oz. And the thought of the tell-all-escope telling all it knew about him

  made the Cowardly Lion positively shudder. But the others were so busy

  examining the Wizard's spyglass, they did not even notice the lion's

  terrific agitation.

 "You know, a thing like that would be of great value to a traveler,"

  remarked Nick Chopper, tapping the tell-all-escope thoughtfully with his

  tin fingers.

 "That's just what I figured," grinned the Wizard, thrusting the instrument

  into his pocket. "And speaking of traveling, I have something else to show

  you!" Clapping on his high hat, Ozma's Chief Magician hastened over to the

  door that opened on the garden, signaling for the others to come along.

 Having had experience with inventors before, Dorothy and Jellia snatched up

  coats, Dorothy her own, and Jellia one of the Wizard's. Then, followed by

  the rest of the party, they stepped out into the sparkling, starlit

  evening. The Soldier with Green Whiskers, who had stopped to eat the last

  pickle in the dish and stuff an extra piece of cake in his pocket, came

  last of all. At each step he gave a little groan, for all by himself the

  soldier had eaten enough for a whole army. But then, he $$was&& a whole

  army; he was every single man, private, corporal, captain, major, colonel

  and general in the entire fighting force of Oz.

 Anxious to exhibit his latest treasure, the Wizard walked rapidly along

  leading the little party across the park, through the Emerald City, out of

  the Gates and into the thick woodland beyond.

 "Where $$do&& you suppose he is taking us?" shivered Jellia, thinking

  longingly of the cozy fire back in the laboratory.

 "No knowing," giggled the Scarecrow. "But a-hunting we shall go! A-hunting

  we shall go! Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-Ta-TAH!" Blowing an imaginary horn, the

  Scarecrow pretended to gallop and fell flat on his face, his legs never

  being what you really could call reliable.

 "Sh-hh!" whispered the Wizard, looking back warningly as the Tin Woodman

  jerked the straw man to his feet. "What I am about to show you has been

  seen by no one in Oz except my faithful assistants! So please be more

  quiet!"

 "You mean it's a secret?" whispered Dorothy, skipping forward to catch up

  with the Wizard and linking her arm through his.

 "Two secrets!" confided Ozma's Chief Magician mysteriously. Pushing

  impatiently through the last fringe of trees, the group stepped into a

  moonlit clearing.

 CHAPTER 3

 LATEST INVENTION OF THE WIZARD OF OZ

 "Ooooh! A conservatory!" murmured Jellia, blinking at the shining glass

  structure that occupied the entire treeless space.

 "A barn, if you ask me!" guessed the Scarecrow. "But why build it of glass,

  Mr. Wiz?"

 "Because glass is the latest and lightest building material known. But this

  is no barn, as you'll soon discover." Handing his flashlight to Dorothy,

  the Wizard slid back the vast doors, switched on the lights and stood back,

  his hands in his pockets, as the little group in silence and astonishment

  viewed the two shining planes housed as snugly as giant butterflies in a

  glass cocoon.

 "Airplanes!" exclaimed Dorothy when she found her voice at last.

 "No, Ozoplanes," corrected the Wizard, trying to keep the excitement out of

  his voice. "Somewhat like the planes in America, but more powerful, for

  remember, my dear, I had not only the scientific knowledge of aeronautics

  available to mortals, but the scientific knowledge of magic to help me as

  well!"

 "Well," echoed the Tin Woodman, gazing approvingly at the Wizard's planes,

  which, except for their silver wings, might have been huge silver-and-glass

  torpedoes.

 "Not for the army, I hope," exclaimed the Soldier, clutching his whiskers

  nervously. Being the entire army himself and quite old-fashioned and set in

  his ways, the Soldier felt sure he never could pilot these gleaming

  airplanes.

 "On, No! No! NO!" The Wizard frowned at the mere thought of war. "These are

  pleasure planes for traveling and exploring the unknown regions of the

  upper air. As soon as Ozma returns from the South, I plan to present them

  both to our illustrious young Ruler and arrange for her to make the first

  triumphant flight."

 "But there are two," said Dorothy a little wistfully. She had hoped to make

  the first flight with the Wizard herself.

 "Of course, of course!" he answered in a matter-of-fact way. "Most

  experimental flights fail because they depend on $$one&& ship. We shall

  have two!"

 "We?" Dorothy brightened up considerably at the Wizard's plural.

 "Yes, we," repeated the Wizard, turning round to smile at the little girl.

  "Counting Ozma and those of us here, there will be eight passengers C4

  four for each plane."

 "Now please don't bother about me!" begged the Cowardly Lion, his tail

  dragging on the ground at the very thought of flying. "I'd not think of

  troubling you. Besides, I'm much too heavy for flying."

 "Not at all, not at all," the Wizard reassured him with a wink. "I have made

  exact calculations about weight, old fellow, and you and the Scarecrow

  balance each other nicely. So don't worry about that."

 "Oh, I'm not worrying about $$that!&&" rumbled the lion, rearing up on his

  hind legs to read the names outlined in emeralds on the luminous sides of

  the Wizard's ships.

 "Ozpril and Oztober!" The lion spoke in a slightly trembling roar. "Mmmn!

  Mmmnnmn! Kerumph!"

 "Why, those are beautiful names," exclaimed Dorothy, tilting back her head

  to spell them out for herself.

 "I thought they were rather neat," said the Wizard complacently. "Suitable,

  too, one to rise and one to fall!" Expressively, he lifted an arm and let

  it fall limply to his side.

 "To C4 to fall?" quavered the lion, dropping to all fours.

 "Oh, just in a figurative way, of course." The Wizard shrugged his

  shoulders. "You will observe," he went on enthusiastically, "that these

  planes need no runway or special track to take off. They really are

  balloonaplanes. Note those round packets on the top of the fuselage." The

  lion blinked rapidly, for he had no idea that fuselage meant the body of

  the plane, but the others nodded quite knowingly. "Well, those," declared

  the inventor proudly, "are my own patented balloon attachments. At the

  touch of a button, the wings are depressed and the balloon inflated with a

  magic gas, lighter than helium, that carries the ship as high and as far as

  desired. Then the balloon can be deflated, and the Ozoplane can continue

  under its own power. But you will readily see how $$my&& ship, with its

  balloon attachment, has twice the altitude possibilities of an ordinary

  airplane. Hah! We shall fly $$higher&& than higher!" boasted the little

  Wizard happily.

 "Oh, quite!" agreed the Tin Woodman, mounting the ladder of the Oztober, the

  Soldier with Green Whiskers pressing nervously at his heels.

 "But how will you move them out of here?" inquired the Scarecrow, taking off

  his hat and scratching his cotton head.

 "Oh, as to thatFF20C4" The Wizard pulled a switch just behind him,

  whereupon the top of the glass airdrome lifted like the lid of an enormous

  jewel box.

 "Hmmmn! I see!" The Scarecrow slapped his knee and grinned with

  appreciation. "Off with the roof! Up with the planes!"

 "Exactly!" Seizing the Straw Man's arm, the Wizard urged him toward the

  ladder of the Ozpril, Dorothy skipping cheerfully behind them. After

  Dorothy plodded the Cowardly Lion, talking to himself in anxious whispers

  and growls.

 "Be sure not to touch anything over there," called the Wizard as Nick and

  the Soldier with Green Whiskers disappeared into the cabin of the other

  plane.

 "I'll keep an eye on them," promised Jellia, tripping up the ladder as

  lightly as a feather. "Don't give us a thought, Wiz dear."

 "Jellia's so funny!" laughed Dorothy.

 "Sensible, too," added the Wizard, helping the little girl over the high

  door sill and into the plane. While he and the Scarecrow went forward to

  examine the steering gear, Dorothy looked delightedly 'round the snug

  little cabin. There were four seats upholstered in pale green leather along

  one side. The whole top was of thick glass, through which she could

  distinctly see the moon and stars winking down at her. The side walls of

  the Ozpril were of a silvery grey, with all trimmings in green. At the back

  was a small dinette with chairs and table locked to the floors as they are

  on seagoing vessels. A cabinet full of china, a wall full of charts, a

  bookcase full of books, and a tiny kitchen and dressing room completed the

  equipment.

 "It's just as cozy as a little house," sighed Dorothy contentedly as the

  Cowardly Lion, having glanced round in a discouraged way, seated himself in

  one of the green chairs and pressed his nose against the round window pane.

  "Won't we have fun, Liony, when we really get off?"

 "$$Getting off&& will be the best fun of all," sniffed the lion, glancing

  briefly at the door. The Lion, as you probably have guessed, felt no

  enthusiasm for the trip. Once, much against his will, he had been carried

  to an island in the sky, and that experience had been more than enough. In

  his own mind he already had decided not to accompany the Wizard on his

  proposed flight. Yessir, when the party assembled for the trip he would

  just turn up missing and manage to stay behind. Immensely relieved by this

  secret decision, he ambled forward.

 "You will notice," the Wizard was pointing out briskly, "that I have done

  away with all controls and levers. On this board are all the buttons

  necessary to operate the ship."

 "Looks like an organ," observed Dorothy, squinting at the bright array of

  buttons set in the top of the table within easy reach of the first seat.

  "Must you play all those stops and starters to guide the plane?"

 "Not quite all," smiled the Wizard, "but if we wished to start, first I'd

  press this green button to depress the wings and inflate our balloon. Next

  I'd push the button marked `up' and, if I decided to go North, this `North'

  button as well. Then I'd use the wheel to hold her steady, and if I

  preferred to go up in a gradual way, I'd push this button marked `zig.'FF2

 0"

 "And I suppose if you saw something interesting or wished to dodge a

  mountain, you'd `zag,'FF20" suggested the Scarecrow, indicating the "zag"

  button with his pudgy finger. "Or you could `spin,' `spiral' or `level

  off'C4"

 "Stop! Stop!" panted the Cowardly Lion, clapping his paw to one eye. "All

  this up-zig and down-zig makes me positively giddy!"

 "It does seem a little complicated," said Dorothy, looking dubiously at the

  Wizard's button-board.

 "Why, it's perfectly simple!" the Wizard assured her brightly. "All you have

  to do is touch the right buttons at the right time!"

 "ButFF20C4"

 The Scarecrow, who had been about to ask another question, whirled round on

  one heel and flopped on his back in the aisle. The Cowardly Lion skidded

  rapidly past to wedge under the little dining table, while Dorothy and the

  Wizard clung to the steering board to keep from falling. For a terrific

  roar like the tearing of a gigantic sheet had made the Ozpril tremble like

  a leaf. There came a sudden flash of silver smoke, and the gradual dying

  away of all sound. Then a complete and ominous silence.

 "WHAT? WHAT! Why, it's $$gone!&&" shouted the Wizard, racing over to the

  door and staring amazedly at the empty space occupied a moment before by

  the Oztober. Then he glanced up into the starlit expanse of sky.

 "Gone?" Creeping on hands and knees, the Scarecrow peered out to see for

  himself. "Why, what right have they to go off like that?" he demanded,

  pulling himself up by the door jam. "April comes before October and goes

  before October, too. Fall before spring C4 Why, that's ridiculous! The

  Ozpril should have led off!"

 "Oh, what will become of them?" cried Dorothy in distress, clasping her

  hands anxiously. "I'm sure it was a dreadful mistake."

 "Mistake!" moaned the Wizard, pushing back his high hat. "Worse than that,

  Dorothy! Why, everything is ruined! Here they've gone off before I even had

  a chance to $$show&& the plane to Ozma. They have no directions, no

  supplies; they'll crash, smash or wreck themselves. I intended to teach

  Nick Chopper to navigate the plane before we started!"

 "But can't we stop them? Can't we go after them?" exclaimed Dorothy,

  clutching the Wizard's coattails.

 "Go after them? Yes! That's the idea, go after them! Of course!" panted the

  Wizard, falling over the Cowardly Lion, who was making a stream-lion for

  the door.

 "I was just going back for my overshoes," wheezed the lion, slinking rather

  guiltily into his seat at the Wizard's reproachful glance.

 "Stay where you are!" the Wizard directed sharply. "Now then, steady,

  everybody steady! Shut that door, Scarecrow, we are about to ascend." The

  Wizard bent over the steering board to touch the green button that would

  inflate the Ozpril's balloon. "But I never expected to go without my black

  bag of magic, an extra vest, or even my bottle of hair tonic."

 "Haven't you any magic at all"" called Dorothy as the Ozpril began to

  vibrate and tremble from the rush of gas into its balloon.

 "A little, a little," confessed the Wizard, pressing the buttons marked "Up"

  and "South." "Here, Dorothy, take the tell-all-escope and see if you can

  catch a glimpse of the Oztober when we are aloft." Grasping the wheel, the

  Wizard settled grimly into the pilot's seat. Dorothy had just time to

  clutch the tell-all-escope before the Ozpril rose straight into the air.

  Lifted and borne by its buoyant gasbag, the graceful ship pointed toward

  the stars.

 CHAPTER 4

 FIRST FLIGHT OF THE OZTOBER

 Now the start of the Oztober had been nothing like the orderly takeoff of

  the Ozpril. The first hint Jellia had of their departure was when a china

  coffee pot from the open china closet into which she was looking with great

  interest hit her a sharp clip on the chin. Next moment she was rolling

  round on the floor of the cabin, dodging all the rest of the green dishes.

 "Oh! Oh! Dishes awful!" choked poor Jellia Jam, not even realizing she was

  making a pun.

 "Stop!" yelled the Tin Woodman, turning a complete somersault and coming

  down on his funnel with one leg hooked through the luggage rack. "Stop! Who

  did that?"

 "Pickles!" moaned a faint voice from the forward end of the cabin. "Oh,

  those pickles!" And that was probably as correct an answer as any to Nick's

  indignant question. Even upside down as he was and subject to the fierce

  rocketing of the plane, the Tin Woodman could see a tall, green figure

  sprawled across the navigator's table. As he had bent over to examine the

  Oztober's steering apparatus, the Soldier with Green Whiskers had been

  taken with a violent cramp from the twenty-nine pickles he had eaten at the

  party. Falling heavily on the board, he had pushed down $$ten&& of the

  Wizard's bright-colored buttons. Following the directions of all ten, one

  after the other, the Oztober had exploded into the air and now, whistling

  and whirling like a comet bound for Mars, was charging into the Heavens.

 Jellia Jam was too bruised and shaken to do anything but cling to the side

  of one of the seats. The Soldier, after his head had been whacked down

  three times on the board, had lapsed into complete and utter silence. Only

  Nick managed to preserve a semblance of his usual calm and composure.

  Though severely dented by the plane's takeoff, the Tin Woodman, being of

  metal, felt no pain. Nor was he subject to the giddiness that assailed

  ordinary flesh and bone bodies under such trying conditions. Even standing

  on his head did not greatly inconvenience him, and after the first dreadful

  shock he began to perceive a certain order and rhythm in their flight. This

  was not strange.

 The Soldier's fall had pressed down the button to inflate the Oztober's

  balloon, the "Up" and the "South" buttons, the "fast," "spin," "spiral,"

  "zig," "zag," "slow" and "circle" buttons as well. So first the Oztober

  would shoot straight up, then it would go into a fast spin, and spiral. The

  zigs and zags were a little less terrible, and on one of the slow circles

  the Tin Woodman managed to extricate his foot from the luggage rack.

  Clattering full length in the aisle, he lay still till the next slow

  circle. Then, leaping to his feet, he rushed forward and pulled the Soldier

  off the steering board. He had just time to prop the unconscious army into

  the third chair and fall into the pilot's seat himself when the Oztober

  went into another fast spin and spiral. This rather upset Nick.

 He had taken a hasty look at the navigator's table when he entered the ship

  and then, more interested in the metal of which the plane was constructed,

  had gone tapping about, testing it with his tin knuckles, intending to

  return to the steering gear later. He naturally had supposed that when he

  pulled the soldier off the board the plane would slow down or change its

  course. But nothing of the kind happened. All the buttons the soldier had

  fallen on stayed down.

 Grasping the wheel, Nick was relieved to find he could steady the Oztober a

  bit in this way. Holding to it with one hand, he tried to pull out the

  "spin" and "spiral" buttons with the other. But even his strong tin fingers

  could not budge them. Next he glanced frantically over the board for a

  "stop" or "down" button, but the "down" button when he found it filled him

  with apprehension. If they shot downward at the speed they were hurling

  upward, the plane most certainly would be wrecked. No, decided Nick,

  drawing his fingers hastily back from the "down" button, they were much

  safer in the air until he learned a little more about flying, and he'd just

  have to hang on till he discovered how the Ozoplane worked.

 Grasping the wheel resignedly in both hands, he glanced back to see how

  Jellia was faring. Jellia was sitting dizzily in the middle of the aisle.

  But she was so encouraged to see Nick actually at the wheel that she made

  her way to him and hung firmly to the arm of his chair. Just then the

  Oztober whirled into its twentieth spin and spiral, and Jellia C4

  dislodged from the chair C4 caught at the steering table to save herself

  from falling.

 "Oh, now you've done it!" gasped Nick as the Oztober gave a wicked lurch.

  "Oh, nowFF20C4" His voice trailed off into a hoarse squeak, for as

  abruptly as it had started the plane stopped, and held aloft by its

  still-buoyant balloon, swung easily to and fro in the faint wind that

  stirred above the clouds. "Say! How did you $$do&& it?" Letting go the

  wheel, the Tin Woodman seized Jellia by the shoulders.

 "What?" panted Jellia. "What did I do?"

 "Why, you saved the ship. You stopped her. See, all the buttons are up

  again!" Removing Jellia's clutching fingers gently from the table top, Nick

  discovered a flat bar on the underside of the board. As soon as Jellia

  pressed the bar, all the buttons had popped back to their normal position.

  "So THAT'S it!" exclaimed Nick, rubbing his tin forehead anxiously. "Each

  time you want to change the course, you press this bar and then begin all

  over again."

 "But now we're sinking," groaned Jellia. And sinking herself into the seat

  back of Nick, she stared at him with round, desperate eyes.

 "Sinking, are we? Well, I'll soon put a stop to $$that!&&" Pouncing on the

  green button to inflate the Oztober's gas bag, Nick pressed it quickly, for

  of course as soon as Jellia had touched the bar, the buttons had all sprung

  up and the magic gas had begun to seep out of the plane's balloon

  attachment. As it again filled and became taut, the slow downward drift of

  the ship ceased, and again it hung motionless between a cloud and a star.

  "Now!" breathed the Tin Woodman, eyeing the button board with grim purpose

  and determination, "Now we can take our time and start off right."

 "Oh, Nick, must we go through all that again?" Jellia began to cry softly,

  drying her eyes on the sash of her party dress. "Oh, Nick, I never thought

  flying would be like this. Please, can't we just stay as we are?"

 "Certainly not," said the Tin Woodman briskly. "Hanging 'round the sky is

  dangerous. We might be hit by a shooting star or even by a meteor. Now just

  trust yourself to me, my dear Jellia. Remember, I am the Emperor of the

  East!" Nick smote his tin chest a resounding blow. "And after ruling the

  Winkies all these years, I surely can handle one small plane!"

 Reassuring himself if not Jellia, the Tin Woodman searched the array of

  buttons for one marked "slow." After he had found it, he slowly began to

  map his course. He would continue to fly up for a time. Next he would take

  a horizontal direction until he grew more accustomed to piloting the

  Ozoplane. Then, as night passed and the sun rose, he would zig and zag

  slowly downward and make a safe landing near the Emerald City.

 The Soldier with Green Whiskers had regained consciousness only to fall at

  once into a heavy slumber. His snores blended nicely with Jellia's sobs as

  Nick Chopper pushed the "up," the "South" and the "slow" buttons. Braced

  for a new shock, Jellia grasped the arms of her seat. But this time the

  Oztober soared gently and gracefully aloft, the motion of the plane so

  smooth and pleasant Ozma's little Maid in Waiting soon forgot all her

  fears. Relaxing against the soft green cushions, she too fell asleep. This

  left only Nick awake and alert.

 But if the Wizard had searched all over Oz, he could not have found a better

  pilot than the Tin Woodman. Being practically tireless and requiring

  neither food nor rest, he could keep his place at the wheel for days if

  necessary. Delighted at the way the Oztober responded to his clever

  manipulation of the wheel and buttons, he flew up and up and on and on,

  scarcely realizing the distance he was putting between himself and Oz.

  Glancing out the round window beside him, Nick viewed the starry expanse of

  the upper air with growing interest and enthusiasm. Sometimes he was almost

  tempted to waken Jellia to point out the splendid cloud mountains and

  cities they were passing. As he swept along, the sky turned from deep blue

  grey and was now suffused with the rainbow tints of early morning.

  Switching off the lights, the Tin Woodman slightly changed his course.

 "I really need a lot more practice before I go back or try to make a safe

  landing," he observed softly to himself. "It never would do to crack up a

  valuable ship like this." But the truth of the matter was, the Tin Woodman

  did not wish to turn back. And after all, who was to insist? The Soldier

  and Jellia still slept on, and far ahead, between a bank of fog and an arch

  of platinum sun rays, loomed a long, lavender crescent. Nick even fancied

  he could see people moving about its glittering surface.

 "A new world!" gloated the Tin Woodman, setting his funnel at a more daring

 20angle. If this were so, he would be its discoverer. Not only that, but he

  could claim it for Ozma and win for himself as much honor and renown as

  Samuel Salt, the Royal Explorer of Oz. "Even if it's not inhabited, it

  would be a good place to practice landing," reflected Nick happily. So

  again he pressed the black bar, touched the button to deflate the Oztober's

  balloon and raise the wings. For now he wished to fly horizontally, and the

  wings would be faster than the gas bag. Next, touching the "straight-on"

  and "faster" buttons and twirling the wheel expertly, he headed the ship

  straight for the tip of the lavender island.

 CHAPTER 5

 THE SPIKERS

 Nick waited until he was well over the crescent before he attempted to land.

  As he flew along, he planned exactly how he would go about it, and

  everything worked out as planned except for one thing. The "slow," the

  "zig" and the "down" buttons brought the Oztober within a foot of the

  glittering air Isle, but the "stop" button functioned a bit late. Instead

  of stopping on the surface, the plane dropped clear through with a crash

  like the smashing of a thousand thin tumblers. Peering up through a spray

  of splinters, the Tin Woodman found he had knocked a jagged hole in the

  Crescent.

 "Attention! Shoulder arms! Company, fall in!" yelled the Soldier with Green

  Whiskers. Jolted completely awake, he sprang up in the aisle, aiming his

  gun at the ceiling.

 "Yes? Yes! Coming, your Majesty!" Jellia, mistaking the musical crash for

  the ringing of Ozma's morning bell, rolled sleepily out of her seat and

  started down the aisle after the Soldier.

 "Now, now, don't be alarmed," remarked Nick Chopper. "I was just trying to

  land."

 "Land? Where is it? Quick! Let me out of here!" panted Jellia Jam,

  remembering all in a rush where she was and the dreadful experiences of the

  night before.

 "I see no land," said the Soldier, pressing his nose against one of the

  windows.

 "Well, it certainly looked like land!" The Tin Woodman spoke in a slightly

  exasperated voice. The Oztober, still quivering from its impact with the

  island, was hanging motionless about ten feet below the Crescent. "Can't

  tell about these Sky Countries till you try them."

 "I'll bet it's nothing but a cake of ice," shivered Jellia, hugging herself

  to keep warm. "Being of tin, I don't suppose you'd notice that it was

  freezing! I wonder if that stove lights."

 "Ice?" meditated Nick as Jellia hurried toward the back of the cabin. "Why,

  I do believe you are right, my dear. In the upper stratas the air does

  become colder. We probably cracked through a frozen cloud!"

 Jellia, turning all the switches on the stove, paid little attention to

  Nick's scientific discourse. She was too busy warming herself over the

  glowing burners. "If we just had something to cook," sighed the little Oz

  maid, staring wistfully into the cupboard beside the stove. But the shelves

  were perfectly empty. Reflecting that the Wizard had not yet had time to

  stock up for the flight, Jellia, who was an orderly little soul, began

  picking up the china that had broken when it fell from the cabinet the

  night before. Rather pompously, the Soldier with Green Whiskers began to

  help her.

 "Will someone kindly explain what we are doing flying around in this

  dangerous and haphazard manner?" he inquired loftily. "I understood we were

  to wait for Ozma's return before we made a trial flight! And really, you

  know, I'm needed at home to guard the castle."

 "Oh, indeed!" sniffed Jellia. "And who do you suppose started us off, Mr.

  Whiskers? Nobody but yourself. A fine pickle you put us in when you fell on

  that steering board."

 "I?" The Solder straightened up, aghast.

 "Yes, YOU!" declared Jellia. "You and your pickles." Sweeping the rest of

  the broken plates into her skirt, she marched to the end of the cabin and

  dumped them into the big basket beside the water cooler. "Goodness knows

  whether we shall ever get back," she sighed, sinking despondently into the

  last seat and staring out the window.

 "But we're backing now," muttered the Soldier. This was quite true, for

  Nick, to avoid hitting the crescent of ice again, was maneuvering the plane

  from beneath; then, feeling it might be dangerous to go any higher, he

  began slowly and cautiously to descend. Neither he nor Jellia paid any more

  attention to the Soldier with Green Whiskers, who glanced uncomfortably

  from one to the other. After a little silence, he remarked in a hollow

  voice, "I shall consider myself under arrest. I shall walk guard for two

  hours without a pause for rest or rations!"

 "Oh, don't be a goose!" giggled Jellia. "You'll probably go without rations

  because there aren't any. But what good will walking guard do?"

 "As Commander-in-Chief, I have sentenced myself to walk guard. As a

  first-class Private in the Army of Oz, I shall carry out this sentence,"

  insisted the Soldier. "Discipline must be maintained!" Hoisting his

  old-fashioned blunderbuss to his shoulder, he began tramping stiffly up and

  down the short aisle of the cabin.

 Born in a small Munchkin village to a family named Battles who had promptly

  christened him Wantowin, he had applied as soon as he was grown for a

  position in the army of Oz. The Wizard, then Supreme Ruler of the Kingdom,

  impressed by the Soldier's height and long green whiskers, had immediately

  hired him. Later he had been promoted by Ozma to fill the position of the

  entire staff and army of Oz. Wantowin had never been much of a fighter, but

  as war in Oz is practically outlawed and victories usually won by magic, he

  had got on very well. At his tenth about-face, Wantowin suddenly recalled

  the piece of cake he had stuffed into his pocket the night before, and

  generously offered it to Jellia.

 "Oh, Wanny, how wonderful!" To the famished girl, the cake tasted even

  better than it had at the Wizard's party. Breaking it in half, she tried to

  force the soldier to eat a piece, but raising his hand sternly, Wantowin

  continued his self-imposed sentence. Seeing argument was useless, Jellia

  ate her own share and put the other half in the cupboard for the soldier's

  supper.

 The plane was still slanting smoothly downward. After oiling all of Nick's

  joints and thinking how fortunate it was they had brought along the oil

  can, Jellia began marching up and down behind the Soldier, examining the

  pictures and charts on the wall as she went along. The cake and a long

  drink of water from the cooler had done much to restore her courage and

  cheerfulness, and an occasional glance out the window was both pleasant and

  reassuring. The Oztober was dropping through fluffs and puffs of creamy

  cloud. "Just like whipped cream on strawberries C4 if we had any

  strawberries!" mused Jellia, withdrawing her gaze reluctantly from the

  window and resuming her march. "Oh, Nick, here are some directions!" she

  cried suddenly, stepping before a finely printed notice beside the water

  cooler.

 "Directions?" The Tin Woodman looked round rather annoyed. He felt he had

  almost mastered the mechanism of the Ozoplane and did not care to start a

  new system. But the directions that Jellia read off had nothing to do with

  the navigation of the plane. They were rules for the behavior of passengers

  in the strat. "The air in this cabin has been magically treated," stated

  the notice. "So long as the windows and doors are closed, riders may safely

  pass through the highest strata. On debarking, however, it would be well to

  don my patent protective air helmets, see chest beneath second seat, or to

  take one, for each mile up, of my elutherated altitude pills from the

  recess in the table leg."

 Jellia, whose bump of curiosity was larger than most, lost no time hunting

  for the helmets. Dragging the chest from beneath the second seat and paying

  no attention to the marching soldier, who stepped over her each time he

  passed, she impatiently lifted the lid. The four helmets in the chest were

  of some pliant, glassy material resembling cellophane. They belted in at

  the waist, and after holding one up for Nick's inspection, Jellia put them

  back and returned the chest to its place.

 "Now $$which&& leg of $$which&& table?" pondered the little Maid in Waiting,

  her mind turning to the altitude pills.

 "Oh, what does it matter?" grinned the Tin Woodman as Jellia crawled under

  the navigator's table and began tapping its legs one after the other.

  "You'll soon be on solid earth and won't need altitude pills." Nick had

  made up his mind to bring the Oztober down to a landing wherever they

  happened to be. But Jellia scarcely heard him, for at that moment she had

  discovered a small hook on one of the front legs of the table. Pulling it

  down, she disclosed a tall, triangular bottle in the hollow center. The

  pills were triangular too, and of every color in the rainbow.

 "Take one after each mile," read Jellia, uncorking the bottle and taking a

  good sniff. The pills smelled as good as they looked, and she was about to

  sample one when the Soldier with Green Whiskers gave a hoarse scream and

  such a leap that his head hit the ceiling.

 "$$Now&& what's the matter?" demanded Nick Chopper, turning around stiffly,

  while Jellia hastily corked the bottle, shoved it back into the table leg

  and crawled into the aisle.

 "NICK!" shrieked poor Jellia. "What is it? What are they? Oh, Ozma! Oh,

  Wizard! Oh, help! HELP!"

 And well might Jellia scream, for swarming round the tail of the Oztober

  came a perfect horde of iridescent monsters. In shape each resembled an

  octopus, but instead of arms they had long, horny spikes and spines.

  Pressing close to the plane, they ogled at the shivering passengers as if

  they were fish in some strange aquarium. Then, evidently angered at what

  they saw, they began hurling and banging themselves against the sides of

  the Oztober till it sounded like the rattle of machine guns. At this

  juncture, I am sorry to report, Wantowin Battles, after sounding a shrill

  retreat on the bugle attached to his belt, rushed into the dressing room

  and wrapped himself in the shower curtain.

 Nick Chopper, who already loved the Wizard's ship as if it were his own,

  shuddered as each spike struck the shining metal. Then, deciding that

  flight was the better part of valor, he hastily changed course, zooming up

  and up, faster and faster and FASTER! For perhaps a thousand feet the

  goggle-eyed monsters pursued them, but at last the air grew too thin and

  rare for the spikers, and one by one they fell away. Their horrid squeals

  and screeches still came faintly to the three voyagers, and Jellia ran

  quickly to the back window to stare down after them.

 "Why, I never knew there were wild animals in the air," stuttered Jellia,

  blinking her eyes rapidly.

 "Now, I wouldn't exactly call them wild animals," said Nick argumentatively,

  twisting his neck from side to side to be sure he was not rusting.

 "Well, they certainly weren't birds!" declared Jellia indignantly. "And how

  did they fly without wings? Come on out, Soldier, they're gone."

 "Ah, so we have won?" Jauntily, the Soldier stepped out of the dressing room

  and resumed his marching. "Give me credit for sounding the retreat,

  comrades," he observed cheerfully. Jellia sniffed, and Nick Chopper said

  nothing.

 "What are we going to do now?" inquired the little Oz Maid, going over to

  stand by the wheel. "How can we ever fly down with those awful creatures

  below?"

 "We'll just travel horizontally till we are out of their area," Nick told

  her complacently. "But for a while, anyway, we'll go up. After all, one has

  to go up to come down, you know. And when we $$do&& come downFF20C4" Nick

  gave a satisfied little nod "C4FF20it will be in a safe spot and far from

  those spiky airimals."

 "So that's what they are! But how did you know?" Jellia looked admiringly at

  the Tin Woodman.

 "Oh, it just came to me," admitted Nick with a modest cough. "Beasts of the

  air must have names, I suppose. Make a note of those monsters, will you,

  Wantowin?"

 "I'm writing them up in my little green book now," mumbled the Soldier, who

  was in fact scribbling away hastily as he tramped up and down. "I've made a

  sketch of one, too."

 "Good! Although I didn't suppose you'd looked at them long enough for that!"

  said Nick, a bit sarcastically. He glanced hastily at the page the soldier

  had before his nose. Then, deciding they had flown high enough, he pointed

  the Oztober toward the east, and after an hour's leisurely flying again

  began a slow and cautious descent.

 "I do wonder where we'll land," mused Jellia, trying to pierce with her

  bright eyes the bank of fog that lay beneath.

 "Somewhere in the Quadling Country, I should judge," answered Nick, twirling

  the wheel deftly to the right. "And when we doFF20C4" At that moment, the

  Soldier with Green Whiskers let out another panicky squawk.

 "Climb! Climb!" he panted, running up and down the aisle so fast he almost

  ran himself down on the about-faces. "We're ambushed, comrades! Fire in the

  fog! Land on the stern!"

 "Oh, tin cups and canyons!" rasped Nick Chopper, losing his temper at last.

  "If this keeps up, how are we ever to get down? Hammer and tong it!

  Something's always getting in the way. WILL you stop that silly marching?"

  he yelled, snatching at the Soldier's sleeve as he raced by.

 "HALT!" quavered Wantowin. Instantly obeying his own command, he stood

  trembling beside the navigator's table as Nick peered desperately down

  through the fog.

 CHAPTER 6

 STRUT OF THE STRAT

 "What is it, Hippenscop?" Strutoovious the Seventh looked up impatiently as

  his first and fastest messenger came to a panting halt under the Imperial

  Canopy. Instead of answering, Hippenscop, his chest heaving and his eyes

  bulging, made a wordless gesture over his shoulder. Then, catching his foot

  in the royal bootscraper, he fell violently up the steps of the dais. This

  was not unusual, for anyone who falls in Stratovania falls up instead of

  down. Rather relieved to find himself before the throne at last, Hippenscop

  scrambled to his feet. Sucking in his breath, he announced hoarsely:

 "I beg to report a strange and sonorbious monster falling through the fog

  over Half Moon Lake."

 "Are you sure it is not a Zoomer?" Throwing down the morning star which he

  had been reading, Strutoovious stared coldly at the messenger.

 "Ho, no! Ho, NO!" Hippenscop shook his head positively. "It has wings and a

  tail, your Stratjesty. Wings, a tail, and seven eyes! But HARK!" The

  menacing whirr and sputter following the messenger's speech made even the

  Ruler of all the Stratovanians leap off his throne. Striding rapidly after

  the terrified servitor, Strut, followed by half the inhabitants of his

  irradiant Tip-toposphere, reached the shores of Half Moon Lake.

 "Skydragon!" he announced after a brief glance at the gleaming shape

  drifting down through the fog. "Quick, Hippen! Summon the Royal Blowmen!

  Back, stand back, you witless woffs! Do you wish to be crushed and eaten?

  Yon monster will alight on the North shore any moonite now!" At Strut's

  loud warning, half of his subjects took to their heels, while the rest

  scurried round to the South side of the lake, every head turned up toward

  the mysterious dragon.

 Only of course it was not a dragon. It was the silver-bodied Oztober, inside

  of which the agitation was almost as great as the alarm of the Airlanders

  below.

 "How long have we? How long'll it be before we land?" gulped Jellia.

  Remembering the Wizard's instructions, she jerked out the box of air

  helmets and next made a dive under the navigator's table. "Here, take one

 C4 twoC4 threeC4 Oh, how many shall we take?" groaned the little Oz Maid,

  holding up the bottle of altitude pills. "FF20`One, after each mile up,'

  but how many miles have we come?"

 "One hundred and one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-seven feet!" mumbled

  the Soldier with Green Whiskers, reading the figures from a shining metal

  hypsometer clamped to the navigator's table. "All we have to do is figure

  how many feet in a mile."

 "Fifty-two hundred and some," puffed Nick, working away desperately at his

  wheel and buttons to bring the Oztober down without crashing. "Oh, take

  twenty!" he directed sharply as Jellia and the Soldier stood regarding him

  with open mouths. It was no time, as Jellia later told Ozma, to be doing

  long division. With trembling fingers she counted out twenty pills for the

  Soldier with Green Whiskers. Then, popping twenty into her own mouth and

  crunching them desperately between her teeth, she handed the bottle to Nick

  Chopper.

 "No, No! None for me!" The Tin Woodman waved the bottle impatiently aside.

  "High altitude won't injure my metal, but keep this oil can handy, Jellia,

  and whatever happens, don't let me rust!" Choking on the pills, which were

  dry and rather bitter, Jellia nodded earnestly. Tucking the oil can into

  the little bag that hung from her wrist, she began nervously dragging on

  her air helmet. Wantowin Battles already had adjusted his and swallowed his

  pills. Now, peering out one of the round windows, he trembled so violently

  all his weapons rattled and clanked to the dismal tune of his fright.

 "Th-thousands of them!" quavered the Soldier. "What kind of place is this,

  anyway? It's so bright it hurts my eyes. Oh, I just know there'll be

  fighting! Look, I'd far better stay in the cabin, as someone must guard the

  plane!"

 "But not YOU!" Nick Chopper spoke with great firmness. Then, spinning the

  wheel rapidly and gauging to a nicety the distance between the ship and the

  sparkling airosphere, he touched the "down" and "stop" buttons

  simultaneously. Coating down the last little hill of wind, the Oztober came

  to a gentle and complete stop on the shore of a rainbow-hued body of water.

 "Now, now! Take your time," cautioned the Tin Woodman as Jellia started

  impulsively toward the door. Pulling off one of the cushion covers, Nick

  began polishing himself vigorously. As the discoverer of this new and

  astonishing airland, he wished to make a good impression. From what he had

  seen, it was a country well worth claiming for Ozma of Oz. "Here, let me go

  first," he said, tossing aside the cushion cover. "Keep close to me, Jellia

  and Soldier. Under no circumstances are you to retreat unless $$I&& give

  the signal. Great Tinhoppers, what was $$that?&&" A long wail rather like

  the squall of a cat suddenly had rent the quiet air of the cabin.

 "Stowaway!" cried Jellia as another unmistakable meough followed the first.

  "Sounds like Dorothy's cat." But it was not Eureka that Jellia pulled from

  behind the second seat cushion. It was a small black kit-bag. The green

  eyes turned off and on like electric lights, and the tail curved over the

  back to form a handle. Round its neck hung a green placard:

 $$"This Kit-Bag of Magic to be used

 Only in cases of extreme emergency.

 To open, pull the tail. C4 WIZ."&&

 "Well, Gee Whiz, is this an emergency?" Jellia held the bag out nervously.

 "ErC4 YES!" declared Nick Chopper after a second glance out of the window.

  "Bring it along! And remember, you have nothing to fear! I, the Emperor of

  all the Winkies, am with you. With kind words and courteous gestures we

  will win the friendship and allegiance of these strange airlanders for Ozma

  of Oz."

 Jellia knew Nick's red plush heart, given him by the Wizard, was the kindest

  in all Oz. Nevertheless, she took a firmer hold on the kit bag, and only

  after assuring herself that Wantowin had his saber and blunderbuss did she

  follow the Tin Woodman down the Oztober's ladder.

 There was a complete and astonished silence as the three Ozians stepped from

  the plane. And it must be confessed, Jellia and the Soldier in their

  transparent helmets and the Tin Woodman without a helmet were strange

  enough to startle any airbody. So it's no wonder the Stratovanians were as

  amazed at the appearance of the travelers as the travelers were amazed at

  the Stratovanians. Separated only by the waters of Half Moon Lake, they

  confronted each other with growing alarm. Strut, who had expected this

  dragon to roar, spurt flames and then rush forward to attack them, hardly

  knew what to do when these three curious beings stepped from the monster's

  interior. Noting with alarm that his Blowmen had not yet arrived, he

  determined to hold the invaders in conversation, if possible.

 So with his head and chest high and walking with the queer, strutting gait

  that characterized all of the dwellers in Stratovania, he advanced slowly

  around the edge of Half Moon Lake. A few paces behind strutted the rest of

  his retainers. Just as slowly, Nick Chopper and his two companions advanced

  to meet them.

 The Airlanders were a head taller than even the Tin Woodman. Their hair grew

  straight up on end, sparkling and crackling with electricity in a really

  terrifying manner. Their eyes were star-shaped and shaded by long, silver

  lashes; the noses and mouths were straight and firm, the foreheads

  transparent. Some shone as from a hidden sun, while across the brows of

  others tiny black clouds chased one another in rapid succession. Watching

  their foreheads would be a good way, decided Jellia Jam, to find out

  whether they were pleased or angry. Strut and his subjects wore belted

  tunics of some iridescent, rainbow-hued material, and silver sandals laced

  to the knee.

 >From the ears of the men hung huge, crescent pendants, while from those of

  the women star earrings danced and dangled. Each Stratovanian carried a

  tall staff tipped with wings. Beyond, Jellia saw a country of such dazzling

  beauty, she was almost afraid to breathe lest it vanish before her eyes.

  The trees were tall and numerous, with gleaming, prism-shaped trunks and a

  mass of cloudlike foliage. Some bore fruit that actually seemed to be

  illuminated C4 oranges, pears, and peaches glowing like decorated electric

  light bulbs! Moon and star flowers grew in great profusion, and in the

  distance caves and grottoes of purest crystal scintillated in the high noon

  sun. So far as Jellia could see, there were no houses or castles, but there

  were hundreds of gay canopies held up by crystal poles. Jellia was just

  standing on tiptoe to glimpse the furnishings of the nearest Canopy when

  Nick Chopper, feeling that time had come to speak, raised his tin arm and

  called out imperiously:

 "I, Emperor of the East and the Winkies, hereby claim this new and beautiful

  airosphere for Ozma of Oz, and bid you, its illustrious inhabitants, pledge

  to her your allegiance! At the same time, I bestow upon all of you Upper

  Airians free citizenship in the glorious Land of Oz!"

 At this bold speech Strut stopped and stood as if rooted to the spot. Not

  only was he dumbfounded to discover he could understand the language of

  these curious beings, but if what he heard were correct, they actually were

  claiming his Kingdom for their own.

 "Well, how was that?" whispered Nick, looking down sideways at Jellia.

 "Terrible! Terrible!" moaned the little Oz Maid. "Oh, my! We'd better look

  out!" Catching hold of Wantowin's hand, for he already showed signs of

  retreating, she looked anxiously at the approaching Airman. Black clouds

  were simply racing across his imperial brow; his eyes flashed red and blue

  lights, and his hair positively crackled with indignation and fury.

 "Oh, my, I do hope you are feeling well," ventured Jellia as Strut took an

  enormous stride toward them. "If you have a headache or anything, we could

  easily come back tomorrow."

 "Stand where you are!" sneered Strut. Looking over his shoulder, he made

  sure his twenty tall Bowmen had arrived and were pushing their way through

  the crowd. "Stand where you are, or I'll have you blown to atoms!"

 "Now, now, let us not come to blows!" begged Nick Chopper. "We have much to

  learn from you, and you from us, and I assure you we have come in the

  spirit of highest friendship!"

 "Humph! So that's what it is, a friend ship! Looks like a dragon to me!"

  Folding his arms, Strut scowled past the three travelers to where the

  Oztober rested like some giant butterfly on the shore of Half Moon Lake.

  Then, making a secret signal to the Blowmen who had lined up before him, he

  shouted fiercely, "I am Strut of the Strat and Supreme Ruler of all the

  Upper Areas. In daring to claim Stratovania for your foolish countrywoman,

  you indeed aim high and will go, I promise you, still higher! Three blasts

  and a toot, men!" As Strut issued this cruel command, his twenty

  stern-looking warriors lifted their curved horns and puffed out their

  cheeks for a tremendous blow.

 Jellia Jam, feeling that if they ever needed help it was right here and now,

  frantically sought with her one free hand to open the Wizard's Kit-Bag. As

  she fumbled with the curved handle, Strut raised his long arm. "Wait!" he

  cried tensely. "Not yet!" Lowering their horns and exhaling their breaths

  in loud whistles, the Blowmen stared at him in surprise. Strut had been

  examining the strangers from Oz more attentively. Now he strode over to

  Jellia, jerked off her helmet and ran his hand slowly over her smooth brown

  hair. Jellia, expecting to faint or expire without the helmet, let out a

  piteous groan. But the altitude pills were evidently powerful enough to

  protect her, and feeling no ill effects she glanced up timidly at the

  towering Stratovanian. Dark clouds no longer flitted across his brow.

  Indeed, he looked almost pleasant. "Ve-ry pret-ty!" he mused, stroking

  Jellia's hair softly. "Not wiry or stand-uppish like ours. Hippenscop!

  Summon her Majesty the Queen. She'll be delighted with this beautiful

  little creature! But it is my intention to blow away these other insolent

  invaders from Oz, keeping only this smooth-haired lassie for our Starina."

 "Oh, No! Oh, NO!" begged Jellia, pulling back with all her strength.

 "Stop! You can't have Jellia," yelled Nick Chopper, flinging out his arms.

 "Ready C4 aim C4 fire!" quavered the Soldier with Green Whiskers. And

  pointing his ancient gun at Strut, he valiantly pulled the trigger. But

  Wantowin's aim was very bad. The twenty marbles with which the gun was

  loaded sipped harmlessly past the Airman's ears, stinging quite a few of

  his subjects and frightening at least fifty into full flight. Strut himself

  was not impressed. Giving Nick a push that sent him sprawling and the

  Soldier a shove, he drew Jellia firmly away from her friends. Terrified as

  she was, the little Oz Maid could not help a small thrill of satisfaction

  to have been chosen by a monarch as High and Mighty as Strut of the Strat

  to be Starina to him and his Queen.

 "As for you two," said Strut to Nick and the Soldier, "blowing up is quite

  painless, I assure you, and if you ever do come down, you'll doubtless have

  many interesting things to tell."

 The Blowmen placed a guard around Nick and the Soldier, and stepped back to

  their posts. Nick Chopper and Wantowin, stunned by the swiftness of events,

  stared sadly at their little Jellia as the Blowmen for a second time raised

  their horns. But Strut, intent on his Warriors, had dropped Jellia's hand.

  Quick as a flash, she pulled the kit-bag's tail and pulled out the first

  object her fingers closed on. It was a small, green trumpet. Without

  stopping to think or reason, Jellia placed it to her lips and blew three

  frantic toots. Instantly a light-green vapor flowed from the mouth of the

  horn, spreading like a fast-moving cloud over the entire assemblage C4 a

  light-green vapor accompanied by three musical notes.

 CHAPTER 7

 A MOST RELUCTANT STARINA

 As the last note died away in a sweet, reluctant echo, Strut's Bowmen threw

  down their horns. With wild shouts and cheers, they began to embrace as if

  each were the other's long-lost brother. The behavior of the rest of the

  Stratovanians was equally puzzling. They sang, they whistled, they laughed

  and stamped their feet from sheer gaiety. Strut, hurrying over to Nick

  Chopper, shook him heartily by the hand.

 "Say, Hay-Hurray! How ARE you?" he demanded exuberantly. "How are you and

  all of your aunts, uncles and infant nieces?"

 "Wha C4 what's that?" sputtered Nick Chopper, completely taken aback by

  this sudden show of friendliness. Kabebe the Queen, tears of joy streaming

  down her moon-shaped face, seized the hands of the Soldier with Green

  Whiskers and was dancing him 'round and 'round. Unnoticed in the general

  hubbub and hilarity, Jellia managed to steal another glance at the green

  trumpet. Printed in white letters on the handle was this surprising

  sentence: $$"This trumpet contains cheer gas."&& Cheer Gas! With a

  tremulous sigh, for the last few moments had been a great strain, Jellia

  slipped the Wizard's instruments back into the kit bag and zipped it shut.

  Strangely enough, the gas had not affected any of the people from Oz. In

  fact, Jellia had never felt less like cheering in her whole life.

 "This way! Ray, Ray, hur$$ray!&&" shouted Strut, who now had Nick by one arm

  and the Soldier by the other. "Quickly! Go and prepare the Guest Canopies,

  Queen Kabebe! These travelers are doubtless weary and need rest and

  refreshment. Have you any preference as to canopies?" he inquired, leaning

  down to look in Nick Chopper's face.

 "Do you have any $$tin&& canopies?" asked Nick hoarsely. He was still dazed

  by Strut's unaccountable change of manner. "I always feel safer under a tin

  roof. It is such a beautiful and dependable metal."

 "Tin? Oh, Ha-Ha-HA!" Strut blinked his star eyes rapidly. "I'm afraid we

  have no tin, but any other kind, my dearFF20C4"

 "Nick Chopper, Tin Woodman of Oz," put in Jellia, who felt it was high time

  they were properly introduced. "And thereFF20C4" she hastily indicated

  the Soldier with Green Whiskers "C4FF20there is Wantowin Battles, the

  Grand Army of Oz!" At Jellia's introduction, Wantowin dropped Strut's arm

  to shake hands.

 "And who are you, my lively little Skylark?" he questioned.

 "Oh, I'm just Jellia Jam, Ozma's Chief Maid-in-Waiting," Jellia said as she

  trotted uneasily along at his side. The rest of the Stratovanians, still

  cheering and singing, but in a more subdued way, came streaming after them.

  Rather anxiously, Jellia wondered how long the effects of the cheer gas

  would last and how soon Strut would remember about blowing Nick and the

  Soldier away again. It seemed unlikely that she would have another chance

  to open the kit bag without detection.

 The Queen, who had not been as cheered by the gas as the others, seemed

  somewhat unfriendly as she walked along behind her Royal Husband. Every few

  minutes, in fact, she would lean forward and give Jellia a spiteful pinch.

  Jellia bore this rude treatment with extreme patience, making no complaint

  or outcry and merely walking a little faster to keep out of the creature's

  way. Jellia wanted to see all she could of this wonderful, sparkling

  airland so she could tell Ozma and Dorothy all about it when she returned

  to Oz.

 The Soldier with Green Whiskers had fallen back to a place beside Queen

  Kabebe and was gazing about him with contemptuous snorts. Any country that

  was not green like the land surrounding the Emerald City held no interest

  for him. Noticing that Jellia was faring quite well without her helmet and

  finding his rather stuffy, he took it off and slung it over one shoulder.

  As he did so, he caught the Queen in the very act of pinching Jellia.

  Disgusted by such conduct, he sternly took her arm, and each time Kababe

  pinched Jellia, the Soldier would slap her fingers. After the fifth slap,

  the Queen peered at him with astonished admiration, for on this whole

  Tip-toposphere there was no man bold enough to strike a member of the

  reigning family. Soon Kababe was so fascinated by Wantowin's flowing green

  whiskers, she forgot all about pinching Jellia. By this time the strange

  and still faintly cheering procession had reached Strut's Royal Canopy.

  Waving away his giggling Bowmen, Strut lifted Jellia to one of the splendid

  Star Thrones.

 To Kabebe King Strut spoke impatiently. "Don't you remember you were to see

  about the Guest Canopies?" Kababe dared not object, but looked quite

  displeased. "Just tell Bittsywittle to bring us a tray of air-ades and a

  wind pudding," ordered Strut, giving the Queen a jovial shove to help her

  on her way. "You'd like an air-ade, wouldn't you, little lady?" Poor Jellia

  shook her head no and then quickly changed it to yes. The furnishings of

  the Royal Pavilion were so rich and dazzling and the Star Throne so high

  and grand that she felt completely bewildered. As Kabebe shuffled away,

  Jellia smiled nervously at Nick and the Soldier. At Strut's invitation they

  had seated themselves cross-legged on bright-blue air cushions and looked

  as uncomfortable as they felt.

 "Well, what do you think of Stratovania by now?" inquired Strut, settling

  back complacently. "I believe you will all enjoy high life as much as we do

  once you are used to it."

 Nick Chopper was on the point of saying they had no intention of getting

  used to it or of staying one single moment longer than was positively

  necessary when he caught Jellia's worried expression and muttered instead,

  "Beautiful, very beautiful."

 "But where are the houses?" asked the Soldier with Green Whiskers bluntly.

  "These tent tops are all right for a war or for field sports, but I should

  think you'd find them rather chilly for all year 'round living."

 "Stratovania," explained Strut as he crossed his long legs, "is never

  chilly. It is surrounded by a rim of warm air that keeps the temperature

  just as you find it today. No wind, no rain, no storms of any kind," he

  concluded proudly.

 "And it's all so bright and shiny," sighed Jellia Jam, blinking down at the

  floor of the pavilion, which was an inlay of sparkling glass, and then off

  to the countless bright canopies that dotted the airscape beyond. The

  surface of Strut's curious Skyland was of gleaming crystal, sometimes

  smooth as ice, sometimes rough and rocky, but always flashing with the

  brilliance of diamonds. "Everything sparkles so," finished Jellia, rather

  wishing she had brought her dark glasses.

 "That's because Stratovania is formed of solid air," smiled Strut, tapping

  one of the iridescent posts that supported the silken canopy over their

  heads. "And I am its High and Mighty Sovereign, ruler of the Spikers who

  inhabit the strata below and of the Zoomers who inhabit the strata above,

  and of all the other spheres and half-spheres in this particular area.

  Strut of the Strat! Consider THAT, Little One, and be proud that you have

  been chosen to be our Starina!"

 "But Jellia can't stay here!" cried the Soldier with Green Whiskers,

  springing indignantly to his feet. "Jellia'sFF20C4"

 "Tut! Tut! Now do not excite yourself! Here comes Bittsywittle, and we'll

  all have a glass of liquid air." As Strut leaned forward to speak to his

  small, electric-haired page, Jellia shook her head sharply at Nick and the

  Soldier, for both seemed on the point of dragging her off the throne.

 "Wait!" Jellia formed the word soundlessly, and with puzzled frowns her two

  friends sank back on their air cushions, accepting rather glumly the

  sparkling goblets of air-ade from the light-footed servitor. With the

  air-ade Bittsywittle passed heaping saucers of wind pudding, a fluffy,

  cloud-like confection that made Jellia's mouth positively water.

 "You will find the diet here light but nourishing," Strut informed them

  blandly. "Our atmosphere is so rare and exhilarating, we need little but

  sun and starlight to keep us going. But now, friends, I propose a toast to

  Jellia, our new Starina!" As Nick and Wantowin rose unwillingly to their

  feet, for the whole affair struck them as perfectly preposterous, Strut

  lifted his glass and downed his air-ade. Then the Soldier rather sulkily

  drank his. Nick, who never partook of food or drink of any kind, set his

  goblet on a small tabouret and stared sadly at Jellia Jam. The Tin Woodman

  feared she was seriously considering Strut's proposal. Jellia surmised what

  Nick was thinking, but as there was no way of explaining that she was just

  trying to gain time till they could find some way to escape, she smiled

  wanly back at him and swallowed her own air-ade.

 Suddenly Jellia felt herself rising into the air. Before she could utter a

  sound, her head was pressed tightly against the top of the canopy. Then,

  dizzily, she began to float 'round and 'round like a pretty balloon just

  let off its string.

 "Ho, Ho!" roared Strut. "Our air-ade has made you light-headed, m'lass! But

  wait, I'll fetch you down!" He tapped the winged staff he held in his right

  hand sharply on the floor. Instantly, it spread its wings, carrying him up

  beside Jellia. Grasping her hand, he drew her down to the throne.

 "There," he chuckled, handing her a heavy glass globe to hold, "that will

  weigh you down!" Reflecting that one of these winged sticks might be a

  handy thing to have, Jellia clutched the glass globe. Still weak and giddy

  from her flight, she could not bring herself to touch the wind pudding

  Bittsywittle had placed on the arm of the throne. The Soldier with Green

  Whiskers, on account of his heavy weapons and boots, had not gone so high

  as Jellia, but even he, instead of sitting on his air cushion, was now

  seated on nothing C4 three feet above Nick Chopper's head. He looked

  extremely unhappy, as indeed he was.

 "Don't worry," grinned Strut, who seemed highly amused by the whole affair,

  "you'll come down presently." He tapped his winged staff on the head as he

  spoke, and the staff immediately folded its wings. "Tell me," he urged,

  turning to Nick Chopper, who was looking anxiously from the Soldier to

  Jellia. "Do you come from below or be-high?"

 "Be-oth," answered the Tin Woodman, too confused by this time to know what

  he was saying. "Taking off from the Emerald City of Oz, we first flew up,

  then over, then up and next down!"

 "Hmmm-mmmn, OZ?" Two very black clouds floated across Strut's transparent

  brow. "I seem to remember your mentioning Oz before! I seem to

  rememberFF20C4" Strut's voice was no longer pleasant, and watching his

  brow growing blacker and blacker, Jellia frantically sought to open the

  Wizard's kit bag. Unless she could release some more of the cheer gas,

  almost anything might happen.

 Out of the third point of his left star eye, Strut saw what she was doing.

  "Don't fidget, my dear," he snapped crossly. "It is unbecoming for our new

  Starina of Stratovania to fidget or to unpack her own bag. HereFF20C4"

  Taking the kit bag from her, he tossed it carelessly beneath his throne.

  Jellia's heart sank. She hoped Nick would say no more about claiming

  Stratovania for Ozma. But the Tin Woodman, already launched upon a glowing

  description of their famous Fairy Land, was working up to that very point.

 "One hundred and one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-seven feet below this

  airosphere," began Nick, taking a long breath, "lies the grand, grand and

  incomparable Fairyland of Oz. Oblong in shape, it is divided into four

  triangular Kingdoms. The Northern and Purple Land of the Gillikens is ruled

  by Jo King; the Blue, Western Land of the Munchkins by his Majesty King

  Cheeriobed; the Eastern, Yellow Land of the Winkies is governed by myself;

  the Southern Red Land of the Quadlings by Glinda, the Good Sorceress.

 "But all of us are subject to the benign rule of Ozma, the young Fairy Ruler

  of the whole Kingdom. Her capitol, the Emerald City, in the exact center of

  Oz, is one of the most beautiful cities out of the world! Surrounding Oz

  and protecting it from invasions is a deadly desert, and in Ozma's

  possession are more jewels and treasure than you doubtless have seen in the

  whole of your air existence."

 "Humph!" growled Strut, looking fiercer than ever. But paying no heed to the

  ominous storm clouds forming on his brow, Nick loftily proceeded. "Not only

  is Ozma possessed of more jewels than any other sovereign known, but in her

  castle are magic appliances that make her the most powerful of rulers. For

  instance, Ozma has a magic belt with which she can transport anyone

  anywhere. On her wall hangs a magic picture in which she can see what is

  happening to her friends or foes, right while it is happening. In her safe

  is a magic fan to blow away her enemies, and so many other strange

  instruments of magic I have not time to describe them. Among her advisors

  is the famous Wizard of Oz, who spends all his time studying magic and

  perfecting new inventions. The Ozoplane in which we made this perilous

  flight is his latest masterpiece. And now that you know a bit more of Ozma

  and her famous country, I am sure you will be delighted to become a part of

  our happy realm and acknowledge Ozma as the Supreme Sovereign of

  Stratovania."

 "What?" screamed Strut, bounding off his throne and furiously confronting

  the Tin Woodman. "How DARE you suggest such a thing? This is the second

  time you have done so! Why should I, Strut of the Strat, acknowledge this

  miserable earthlander as my supreme anything? I am a thousand times richer

  and more important than any Belowlander below. Oz! OZ! Indeed!"

 As Nick backed off in alarm, Strut shook his long staff over the Tin

  Woodman's head. "Why, you can't even pronounce the name of your own

  country!" he sneered. "It is not Oz, as you say it, but OHS C4 the Zone of

  Ohs, to be more correct. And if Ohs is in the zone of Ohs, it is Ozone,

  which means AIR C4 and that makes it belong to ME! So I, Strut of the

  Strat, hereby do claim OZONIA for myself and my people, and you, my fine

  Mr. Funnel Top, shall take me there!"

 CHAPTER 8

 STRUT OF THE STRAT SETS OFF FOR OZ

 "Don't you do it! Don't you do it!" Plumping down on his air cushion, for

  the effects of the air-ade had worn off at last, the Soldier with Green

  Whiskers wildly sounded retreat on his green bugle. Jellia, knowing he

  would run as fast as he could and perhaps wreck the Ozoplane before she and

  Nick could reach it, jumped off her throne and seized him by the coattails.

  As she did so, Strut gave the glass gong beside him a resounding whack.

  Before any of the three travelers could take another step, the twenty

  Blowmen tramped back into the Royal Pavilion. The cheer engendered by the

  cheer gas had entirely evaporated by now, and they looked very grim indeed.

  At a signal from Strut, one seized Nick, a second the Soldier. A third was

  taking hold of Jellia when Strut sternly waved his aside.

 "No, No! Not that one! She is our new Starina!" he told the Blowmen roughly.

  "Now, you are to stay right here, Jellia, my dear, and help rule over

  Stratovania while I descend to Ohs and take possession of that rich and

  prosperous country. And sooner than soon I will return, bringing you the

  magic treasure and jewels and the crown and scepter of this Ohsma!"

 "Oh, but you musn't!" wailed Jellia, clasping her hands desperately. "Ozma

  is a $$real&& Princess and much more beautiful than I!"

 "In that case, I shall bring Ohsma back and make her a Starina also!"

  promised Strut.

 "Now Hippenscop," he directed, shaking his finger at the odd-looking page,

  "you and Junnenrump are to obey Jellia in everything. I'll leave three

  Blowmen here to protect our Starina. The others, and all of my able-bodied

  fighters, shall fly with me to Ohs."

 "The Ozoplane holds only four!" cried Jellia, looking desperately over at

  Nick, who was struggling angrily to free himself from the Blowmen. But they

  had his arms pinioned behind his back, and the poor Tin Woodman was unable

  to help himself.

 "Oh, that's all right!" answered Strut. "I and this Tin Emperor will ride in

  the Friend-ship, and the others will follow on their flying sticks, and

  soon I will return with all the treasures of Ohs!" As the Blowmen started

  away, shoving Nick and the Soldier with Green Whiskers ahead of them,

  Jellia felt so frightened and alone that she burst into tears.

 "Oh, please, please, couldn't you leave the Soldier to keep me company?" she

  sobbed, wiping her streaming eyes on her sash.

 "Of course, if you wish!" Motioning to the Blowmen, they picked up Wantowin

  as if he had been a sack of potatoes and tossed him roughly back into the

  Royal Pavilion. He landed with a clatter at Jellia's feet.

 "But see here! I am not sure I can find the way back to Oz!" protested Nick

  Chopper as Strut fell into step at his side. "I happened upon this

  airosphere by the merest chance and have no idea in which direction Oz now

  lies."

 "Just the same, I think you will take me there!" Strut grinned wickedly,

  tapping Nick on the shoulder with his staff. He already had sent Junnenrump

  to summon the army, and, glancing over his shoulder, Nick saw a thousand

  young airmen strutting along behind them. As they came to the shores of

  Half Moon Lake, Hippenscop came panting and gasping into view.

 "Her Skyness the new Starina bade me give you this," he puffed, handing the

  Tin Woodman the small oil can the Wizard had given him at the party. Nick

  had forgotten all about his oil can, and without it he was likely to rust

  and become perfectly helpless. Taking it thankfully from the messenger, he

  hung it on a hook beneath his arm and headed reluctantly for the Oztober.

  Nick had no intention of flying Strut to the Emerald City. Even if he had

  to wreck the plane, he would find some way to keep the greedy airman and

  his legions from conquering Oz. Then he would return and rescue Jellia and

  the soldier.

 But without a word to Strut, for argument at this point would have been

  useless, he mounted the ladder, walked through the cozy cabin, and seated

  himself in the pilot's chair. Strut paused on the top rung of the ladder

  before he entered. "Follow us closely, men," he commanded gruffly, "no

  matter how far or fast we fly." Strut's young warriors raised their flying

  staffs to show that they understood, and with a few final directions, the

  Stratovanian stepped over the sill, slammed the door of the Oztober and

  walked rapidly forward, examining everything with lively interest.

 "So this dragon-body really flies?" he said, bending curiously over the

  navigator's table. "Ho, what's this? I thought you told me you had no way

  of finding the route back." Nick Chopper, much more surprised than Strut,

  picked up the tidy map that lay on top of the buttons. It certainly had not

  been there when he left the plane, but here it was now, showing the

  complete course they had taken since leaving the Emerald City. Concluding

  this was some of the Wizard's magic, Nick examined the map attentively.

  Each turn up or down, each mile east or west, was charted accurately.

 "All you have to do is follow this in reverse," exclaimed Strut.

  Unaccustomed as he was to flying except by staff, he was nevertheless sharp

  enough to realize the value of a good map when he saw one. "And remember

  now, no tricks!" he warned sternly. "Land me safely in Ohs and you will be

  suitably rewarded. But land me anywhere else and you will be completely

  obliterated!"

 Nick said nothing. Weary of Strut's threats and boasts, the Woodman touched

  the button to inflate the Oztober's balloon, and the "up," "south" and

  "fast" buttons. In the whirr and splutter of their takeoff, the Airlander's

  further remarks and directions were completely drowned out.

 CHAPTER 9

 JELLIA IN A FRIGHTFUL JAM

 For a long time after the departure of the Tin Woodman and of Strut and his

  legions, Jellia sat forlornly on the Star Throne trying to stem the tears

  that coursed slowly down her cheeks. To be stranded on this high and

  dangerous airosphere was bad enough, but the thought of Strut flying off to

  destroy Ozma and steal all her treasures was more frightening still.

 "What on airth shall we do?" questioned Jellia with a rueful smile of the

  Soldier with Green Whiskers, who was tramping morosely up and down the

  pavilion. Halting in his march, Wantowin shook his head dubiously.

 "That I cannot say!" he murmured, taking off his cap and staring gloomily

  inside. "I have no standing in this country at all! But you, Jellia, are a

  Starina. Therefore you must decide what is to be done. And whatever your

  Majesty's orders may be, I will carry them out to the letter. $$To the

  letter!&&" declared Wantowin, standing up very straight and tall.

 "Oh, bother `my Majesty'!" scolded Jellia. "You know perfectly well I didn't

  $$ask&& to be a Starina of this terrible place!"

 "It is not what you want, but what you are that counts!" insisted the

  Soldier, stubbornly. "And there's no getting around it, Jellia, you $$are&&

  a Starina! So while you are deciding what is to be done, I'll just do a bit

  of reconnoitering. It might be well to know the lay of the air!"

 "Wait!" cried Jellia as Wantowin started smartly down the steps. "Whatever

  you do, Wanny, don't run!" she implored earnestly. "You might easily run

  off the edge, and then where'd you be? So do please be careful, and if

  anything frightens you, run straight back here! Do you promise?"

 "Nothing ever frightens me!" said the Soldier in an offended voice. Marching

  sternly down the steps, he was off at a double-quick, without even a glance

  over his shoulder. Feeling more alone than ever, Jellia sighed and folded

  her hands in her lap. But Wantowin's words, foolish as they were, had done

  her good. After all, she was a Starina, for the time being anyway. So,

  straightening her crown and drying her tears, Jellia tried to think how she

  should act under such bewildering circumstances.

 How would Ozma act, for instance, if she were sitting on the throne of this

  singular airtry? Even thinking of the gentle and dignified little Girl

  Ruler of Oz steadied Jellia. Holding her head very high, she stepped down

  from the dais and began pacing slowly up and down the pavilion, switching

  her green skirts in such a regal manner that the two messengers who had

  returned quietly to their posts stared at her with new interest and

  admiration.

 "Is there anything we might bring your Stratjesty?" asked Junnenrump, bowing

  from the waist and clicking his heels smartly together. At his question

  Jellia paused and eyed the two speculatively.

 "Why, yes," she decided after a moment's thought. "You, Junnenrump, may send

  someone to amuse me, and you, Hippenscop, may bring me two of those winged

  staffs. It is neither safe nor proper for a Starina and her Army to be

  without them!"

 "But your Skyness!" Hippenscop leaped into the air and spun round and round

  in an agony of embarrassment. "There are no extra staffs!" he blurted,

  finally coming to a stop before her. The little fellow looked so

  distressed, Jellia was on the point of letting him off. Then, remembering

  just in time that she was bound to be obeyed, she raised her arm.

 "Go!" she commanded haughtily. "And do not return without two winged

  staffs!" Junnenrump already had started, and at Jellia's stern command

  Hippenscop backed dejectedly down the steps, his eyes bulging with dismay

  and consternation.

 "If Wanny and I had flying sticks, we'd at least be as well off as the rest

  of these Airlanders," reasoned Jellia, resuming her walk. "But what funny

  names," she mused as the messengers disappeared in two different directions

  and at two different speeds. "They make me think ofFF20C4" Here Jellia

  took a little run and jump, following it with a skip and a hop. "I

  suppose," she continued, talking conversationally to herself, "that is what

  their names really mean, everything is so mixed up here." Regaining her

  throne in one long slide, Jellia brought up with a slight start. This, she

  decided, was no way for a Starina to act. Smoothing down her dress, she

  walked sedately to Strut's throne and reached underneath.

 The real reason she had got rid of the messengers, of course, was so she

  could recover the kit-bag and have a chance to examine its contents without

  being observed. The cheer gas had saved them on one occasion, and perhaps

  there was magic powerful enough to enable her and the Soldier to escape

  from the airosphere before Strut returned. The bag was still there, and

  snatching it up in her arms, Jellia climbed back on the throne. But just as

  she was about to zip it open, Junnenrump bounded up the steps of the

  pavilion, dragging a lean old Skylander by the hand.

 "His Majesty's Piper!" announced Junnenrump, giving the Piper a shove

  forward and seating himself expectantly on the messenger's bench. Jellia

  was annoyed to have Junnenrump return so soon. But since she had sent for

  someone to amuse her, she could not very well object. So, resting her chin

  in her hand, she looked curiously at the Royal Piper. The old Skylander was

  tremendously tall and thin. His tunic was short and plaited, and under his

  arms he carried a pair of enormous bagpipes. Jellia had never cared for

  bagpipes, but on an airosphere she supposed wind instruments such as this

  naturally would be popular. The Piper, however, did not immediately play on

  his pipes. Instead, he struck a few light and pleasant chords on the top

  buttons of his tunic.

 "Shall I do a buck and wing, or a little Skyland fling?

 Shall I sing a little sing, for you, Dear?"

 bawled the Piper cheerfully. He looked so funny that Jellia burst out

  laughing. Thus encouraged, the Piper proceeded to sing, punctuating his

  song with extraordinary leaps and toe tappings.

 "When we Skylanders feel low, we just Dance the stratispho;

 "Step it high, kick and fly, toss the Partner up ski-high. High HO!

 "Would you care to try it?" he asked politely, holding out his hand to

  Jellia.

 "No, No! Not today!" gasped the Oz maid, backing as far as the star throne

  would allow. "But I've really enjoyed watching you very much, and your

  singing is lovely," she added generously.

 "Ah, but wait until you hear me play," puffed the Piper. Raising his pipes,

  he blew forth such a hurricane of whistles, squeals and fierce thunderings

  that poor Jellia clapped both hands to her ears. "Tell him to go away," she

  screamed above the awful din, wildly motioning to Junnenrump, who was

  tapping his foot in time to the pipes and looking highly diverted. "Tell

  him to come back tomorrow."

 The fierce music of the bagpipes had brought airlanders running from every

  direction. Crowding round the pavilion, they waved and bowed to the new

  Starina. Realizing she never would have any privacy under the Imperial

  Canopy, Jellia slipped off her throne. The messenger had the Piper by the

  tunic tails and was easing him gently down the steps. Jellia waited till

  they reached the bottom, then, as all the airlanders began to run after the

  still furiously pumping piper, Jellia started in the opposite direction.

  Surely somewhere, she thought, clutching the kit-bag close to her,

  somewhere she could find a quiet corner or cave or clump of bushes where

  she could examine the contents of the Wizard's bag without interruption.

 So anxious was Jellia to be by herself, she broke into a run. Failing to

  notice a crystal bar stretched across the path, she tripped and fell

  violently up a tune tree. Falling down is bad enough, but falling up is

  worse still. Jellia not only had barked her shins on the crystal bar, but

  had bounced into the air so high she lost her breath and plunged down so

  abruptly among the top branches of the tune tree that she was somewhat

  scratched and shaken. She knew it must be a tune tree because plump black

  notes grew in clusters like cherries between the leaves. Several, dislodged

  by her fall, broke into gay little arias and chords. At any other time

  Jellia would have been quite interested, but now she was too agitated and

  upset to care.

 "Such a country C4 or airtry!" groaned the Oz maid, rubbing her left ankle

  and her right knee. "One can't even fall down in their own way!" Parting

  the branches, the ruffled little girl looked crossly out. It was quite a

  long way to the ground, but nevertheless Jellia decided to climb down. But

  suddenly it occurred to her that the top of the tune tree was as good a

  place as any to open the kit-bag. Easing herself to a larger limb, she

  balanced the bag carefully in her lap and stretched out her hand to pull

  the tail. Then a piercing scream and the thump of a hundred footsteps made

  her draw it back in a hurry. Parting the branches of the tree for a second

  time, she saw Wantowin Battles running toward her like the wind.

 "Help! Help! Save me!" yelled the Soldier with Green Whiskers. And he had

  reason to yell, for just two leaps behind him panted Kabebe, waving an

  enormous crystal rolling pin. After the Queen pounded the three big

  Blowmen, and after the Blowmen came nearly a hundred men, women and

  children. Before Jellia had time even to guess why they were chasing the

  Army, Wantowin tripped over the same crystal bar that had caused her upfall

  and landed with a terrific grunt in the branches beside her, scattering

  half- and quarter-notes in every direction. The Airlanders stopped short

  and watched with breathless interest as the Soldier disappeared into the

  thick foliage of the tune tree.

 "What's the matter? What happened?" whispered Jellia, reaching out to steady

  the soldier, who was bouncing wildly up and down on a nearby limb.

 "YOU?" gasped Wantowin, almost losing his balance at the shock of seeing

  her. "Oh, Jellia! We must leave at once! AT ONCE! As I was passing the

  cooking caves, Kabebe rushed out and grabbed me. She has decided to blow us

  away most any minute now. She has persuaded the Airlanders that Strut is

  lost and never will return. Oh why, WHY, did we ever fly to this terrible

  place?"

 "Be quiet!" hissed Jellia, frightened almost out of her wits at this new

  turn of affairs. "How can I think with you making all that noise?"

 "Come down! Come down!" bawled Kabebe. "Come down before I shake you down!"

  Grasping the trunk of the tune tree, she gave it a playful shake.

 "You might as well go down," she whispered resignedly as the Queen gave the

  tree a tremendous shake that nearly dislodged them both.

 "Not without you," shivered Wantowin, hugging his branch for dear life.

 "Oh, well, let's get it over with," said Jellia despairingly. "Blowing away

  may not be so bad, and I'd rather do anything than stay up here." Tucking

  the kit-bag under one arm, Jellia swung herself down by the other and

  dropped lightly to the ground.

 "What is the meaning of this outrageous behavior?" she demanded as Wantowin

  dropped fearfully beside her. "His Majesty shall hear of this, I promise

  you."

 Kabebe, astonished to see Jellia as well as the Soldier with Green Whiskers

  drop out of the tree, took a hasty step backward. Jellia quickly followed

  up her advantage. "I'm amazed!" she said sternly. "I thought you knew that

  I was to help you rule while King Strut is away!" At this bold speech,

  Wantowin looked at Jellia in round-eyed admiration. Though her cheeks were

  scratched and her crown slightly askew, the little Waiting Maid looked

  every inch a ruler's helper, if not a ruler. Even the Blowmen began to

  shift uneasily from one foot to the other, their mouths falling open at

  Jellia's indignation. But Kabebe raised both arms and fairly screeched at

  the little Oz Maid.

 "How dare you speak to me like that?" she shrieked. "King Strut is lost and

  never will return! I am Queen here, and I don't need your help! Blowmen!

  Seize this impudent pair, march them to the edge of the cliffs, and blow

  them away." The crowd of Stratovanians looked uncertainly from Kabebe to

  Jellia.

 "His Highness left you here to $$protect&& me!" Jellia reminded them

  sternly. But even as she spoke, she knew they had decided to obey Kabebe.

  She was flashing her star eyes so threateningly and waving her winged stick

  to close to their heads that the Blowmen were afraid to defy her.

 "Come along now," grumbled the first Blowman, taking Jellia roughly by the

  arm. "You've caused enough trouble here!"

 The other two Blowmen seized the trembling Soldier and began marching

  sternly toward the edge of Strut's Skyland. Jellia pulled back with all her

  strength, as also did Wantowin, but hustled along by the huge Skylanders

  they could do little to help themselves. Relentlessly, with the jeering

  citizens of Stratovania running along after them, the unfortunate Oz pair

  was dragged on.

 "Just wait till your Master hears about this," sobbed Jellia as the Blowmen

  shoved them as near to the edge of the cliffs as they dared go themselves.

  Then they stepped back to lift their horns. Jellia had managed to retain

  her hold on the Wizard's kit-bag, but even so she felt that their last

  moment had come.

 Jellia gave a final sad little wave to the Soldier, who really was quite

  brave now that his doom had arrived. The Blowmen pointed their horns

  straight at them, but before they even could inflate their cheeks, a fierce

  roar and splutter from the clouds caused every head to turn upwards.

 "The ship, the ship! The flying ship!" cried the First Blowman, letting his

  horn fall disregarded to the ground.

 "It's Strut!" screamed the Stratovanians, treading on one another's toes in

  their sudden frenzy to be out of sight of their Master when he landed.

 "FF20'Tis the Master himself!" cried the first Blowman, yanking Jellia and

  the Soldier back from the edge of the Skyland. Pulling Kabebe along with

  them, the Blowmen ran as never before, closely followed by Strut's

  scurrying subjects. One moment later there was not a single airbody in

  sight. Convinced that their cruel and brilliant ruler had returned, they

  ran like rabbits. Some even flew, helping themselves along with their

  winged staffs, while Jellia, sinking on a large crystal boulder, stared

  dazedly at the silver-bodied plane dropping rapidly toward them.

 "It can't be the Oztober!" cried Jellia delightedly. "It couldn't have come

  back so soon!"

 "It's $$not&&!" cried Wantowin Battles, tossing up his cap and waving his

  arms exuberantly. "It's the other one, the Ozpril, and that meansFF20C4"

  In his extreme excitement, the Soldier tripped over a balloon bush and fell

  seven feet into the air. "It means the Wizard himself has come to help us,"

  sputtered Wantowin, blinking rapidly as he landed hard on the rock beside

  the young Oz maid. "Three cheers, Jellia! The Wizard of Oz has saved us!"

 CHAPTER 10

 THE WIZARD IN STRATOVANIA!

 It was indeed the Ozpril, just as the Soldier with Green Whiskers had said.

  Even at a distance, Jellia could spell out the name on the gleaming body,

  and as the silvery plane came swooping toward them she could not repress a

  shout of joy.

 Too exhausted by the dreadful ordeal she had just been through to run to

  meet the ship, she jerked off her scarf and waved it wildly over her head.

  About ten feet from the crystal boulder on which she had been sitting, the

  Ozpril came to a gentle and perfect landing. Scarcely had the whirr and

  sputter of its engine died away before the door of the cabin burst open,

  and down climbed the little Wizard of Oz, followed by Dorothy and the

  Scarecrow. The Cowardly Lion, last of all, had difficulty fitting his paws

  on the rungs and after a trembling descent rolled over on his back, his

  four feet straight up in the air. The trip had not agreed with the Cowardly

  Lion at all. Weak and dizzy, he made no attempt to rise.

 "Here you are at last!" cried the Wizard happily, rushing over to Jellia and

  seizing both of her hands. "So THIS is where you've been! Well, I must say

  it's a fine place. Why, it's beautiful, beautiful!" Swinging round so he

  could look in all directions, the Wizard positively glowed with interest

  and enthusiasm.

 "What's so beautiful about it?" growled the lion without turning over. "Is

  there any grass? Are there any trees? Is there anything to eat?" Dorothy,

  on the point of embracing Jellia, gave a little scream, for the

  Tell-all-escope, which she had picked up just before leaving the plane, was

  making terse announcements. At this point it happened to be pointed at

  Jellia. Clearing its throat, it remarked in a superior way:

 "You are now looking at Miss Jellia Jam, formerly of Oz, at present new

  Starina of the Strat, by edict of Strutoovious the Seventh. Miss Jellia

  Jam, Starina of Stratovania! Period! Stop, drop or point elsewhere!"

 "Why, $$Jellia!&&" gasped Dorothy, letting the Tell-all-escope fall with a

  crash. "Are you really? Oh my! I don't suppose you'll $$ever&& want to

  return to Oz now. Why, you must be having a wonderful time!"

 "Humph!" sniffed Jellia with a slightly wan smile. "If being pinched, chased

  and nearly blown to atoms is having a wonderful time, then I guess I've

  been having it, all right!"

 "Tell me," requested the Scarecrow, who had been walking in a slow circle

  around Jellia. "Does one prostrate oneself before a Starina, or does one

  merely kiss her hand?"

 "Neither," laughed Jellia. Jumping up, she gave the Scarecrow such a hug he

  was out of shape for hours. "But quick! Let's all hop in the Ozpril and fly

  away before something terrible happens."

 "Fly away?" cried the Wizard, shoving back his high hat. "But, my $$dear&&,

  we've only just come! I've been flying all night and need a little rest and

  refreshment before we start off again. Besides, I would like to see more of

  this interesting airland and its people and add to my data on the Strata."

 "That's what Nick thought," observed Jellia, putting both her hands on her

  hips. "And look what happened to him!"

 "What $$did&& happen to him?" demanded the Wizard, realizing for the first

  time that Nick was not among those present.

 "You tell him," sighed Jellia to the Soldier. Sinking back on the boulder,

  she held her aching head in both hands. All eyes turned toward the Soldier

  with Green Whiskers, who opened and closed his mouth several times without

  saying a word. The Wizard, now thoroughly alarmed, began shaking him on one

  side and the Scarecrow on the other, until finally Wantowin took a

  tremendous swallow and gave them the whole story.

 When the narrator reached the part where Strut had ordered Nick and him

  blown away, the Scarecrow hurried over to the balloon bush and began

  picking the almost-ripe balloons as fast as his clumsy cotton fingers would

  permit. Not till he had about twenty did he even pause. So light and flimsy

  was the straw man that the bunch of balloons on their long stems kept

  jerking him into the air. After each jerk he would give a little grunt of

  satisfaction.

 "These are just to keep me aloftFF20C4 in case of accidents," he explained

  hastily to Dorothy, who was watching him intently.

 "But what of us?" asked the little girl, looking anxiously toward the

  Canopied City, which at present seemed absolutely deserted.

 "You say that this wretched Strut, after naming Jellia Starina, forced Nick

  to fly him to Oz?" exclaimed the Wizard, grasping Wantowin Battles by both

  arms and gazing into his face.

 "Not only that," Wantowin told him hoarsely, "but he's taken his Blowmen and

  a thousand fighting men to conquer the country! He intends to bring back

  Ozma's crown, scepter, jewels and all the treasures in our castle!"

  finished the Soldier dolefully.

 "Oh, can't we do something, Wizard?" cried Jellia determinedly. "I simply

  won't be Starina! I won't! I WON'T!"

 "Just the same, you make a very pretty one," murmured the Scarecrow, patting

  the little Oz Maid consolingly on the shoulder. "But of course, we cannot

  allow this bounding airlander to take Oz!"

 "If Nick had not `taken possession' of Stratovania for Ozma, he'd never have

  thought of it," groaned Jellia. Rising stiffly, she picked up the kit-bag

  from the crystal rock beside her.

 "Ah, so you still have my magic kitty!" In spite of his anxiety, the Wizard

  smiled.

 "Indeed I have," said Jellia firmly. "It saved us from being blown away. I

  used some of your cheer gas, Wiz, but I didn't have time to try out any of

  the other magic. Here, you'd better take it now, and do let's be starting.

  No telling when Kabebe and those three Blowmen will be coming back."

 "Forward march! Forward march!" Wantowin Battles started off all by himself

  for the Ozpril. "Hurry, hurry!" he called over his shoulder. "If those

  fearful people return, they'll surely make trouble!" yelled the Soldier,

  his voice growing more emphatic.

 "Well, it's certainly a mix-up," said Dorothy, moving closer to the Wizard.

 "What do these people look like, Jellia?" she asked curiously. "Really, I'd

  enjoy seeing a few."

 "They look like nothing you have ever imagined!" Jellia told her with a

  slight shudder. "Goochers! Here come some now! And oh, it's those Blowmen,

  and all the others! Look, Wizard! Could we reach the Ozpril before they

  reach us?"

 "Let's not try," decided the Wizard as the Blowmen broke into a run. "Even

  if we made the plane, they might blow us to bits before I could get her

  started. Let's stay here and reason with them till I find something in this

  bag to help us."

 "Oh, woe is we! Oh, woe is we!" gulped the Scarecrow, taking little runs and

  leaps into the air, hopeful that his balloons would lift him out of the

  danger zone as the threatening company drew closer. The Queen was marching

  grimly ahead of her subjects. In some way, decided Jellia, she had

  discovered Strut had not been in the silver plane. As the Wizard opened his

  kit bag, the little Oz Maid rushed over to the Cowardly Lion.

 "Get up!" directed Jellia, giving him a desperate prod with her toe. "Get

  up! We need your growl C4 and LISTEN!" she begged as the big beast rolled

  over and blinked sleepily at the approaching airlanders. "Do everything I

  tell you, or we are lost, LOST!"

 Dorothy concluded Jellia had been quite right about the inhabitants of

  Stratovania. They certainly were like no one she ever had seen, and she

  could not help admiring the bold way Jellia stepped out to meet her

  dangerous adversary.

 "Just what are you doing here?" demanded Jellia, folding her arms and

  tilting up her chin. "Did I not order you to leave us strictly alone?

  Blowmen, take this Kabebe woman away!"

 "Kabebe's our Queen," muttered one of the Blowmen, scowling at Jellia. "At

  least," he corrected, glancing at his comrades, "she is our Queen until

  Strut returns."

 "What makes you think Strut has NOT returned?" questioned Jellia grandly.

  "Do you not recognize your Master?" With a regal wave, Jellia pointed to

  the Cowardly Lion. "Do you not believe that this is Strut C4 changed to

  this great beast by Ozma of Oz? But he is as powerful and able as ever to

  rule this Kingdom! Strut!" Imperiously, Jellia appealed to the Cowardly

  Lion. "Am I the Starina of Stratovania?"

 The poor lion was as startled at Jellia's question as the Stratovanians.

  From sheer shock, he rose on his hind legs and let out a perfectly awful

  roar C4 which was perhaps as convincing an answer as he could have given.

 "There! You see?" Jellia shrugged her shoulders as Queen Kabebe and the

  Blowmen turned white as ghosts and began to move away.

 "It does sound like the Master," stuttered the Blowman as the Cowardly Lion

  followed up his roar with a reverberating growl.

 "What are your Majesty's wishes?" inquired Jellia, inclining her head

  graciously toward the trembling lion.

 "Take that woman away and have our supper prepared and served at once in the

  Royal Pavilion!" directed the lion in his most commanding roar.

 CHAPTER 11

 KING, KING C4 DOUBLE KING!

 The effect of the Cowardly Lion's speech was astonishing indeed. The

  Stratovanians behind the Queen turned and ran for their lives. They started

  backing away so fast they fell up at every step, so that their progress was

  curious enough to watch. There were few animals on the airosphere, and

  certainly none that talked. Thoroughly convinced that the Cowardly Lion was

  Strut and Strut was the lion, his terrified subjects fled in all

  directions.

 "Whew!" exclaimed the Wizard, snatching out his green handkerchief and

  mopping his moist forehead. "That was quick thinking, my dear. Good acting,

  too," he puffed, leaning down to give the lion an approving pat.

 "Oh, wasn't he WONDERFUL?" Jellia hugged the lion so energetically he fairly

  gasped for breath.

 "Not so hard for ME to play King," he wheezed when he managed to escape from

  Jellia's embrace. "After all, I AM the King of the Forest!"

 "Well, however that may be, Jellia is certainly Starina of the Strat!"

  declared the Scarecrow. "I'm beginning to think Strut was right in choosing

  her! You've been wasting your talents in Oz, my dear, and you surely have

  earned a crown today!"

 "But I don't want a crown!" asserted Jellia with spirit. Nevertheless, she

  was quite pleased at such high praise. "Now, look! Since the Cowardly Lion

  ordered supper in the Royal Pavilion, perhaps we'd better go. It will be as

  good a place as any to rest while we plan our next move."

 "Hi there, is everything all right?" Wantowin Battles, who had hidden

  himself behind a crystal rock at the Blowmen's approach, now peered out

  nervously.

 "For the present," called the Wizard, waving his kerchief, "for the present.

  Come along, Soldier, we're going to have supper in the Royal Pavilion!"

 "Not I," said the Soldier, falling in step with the Scarecrow. "Count me out

  of that!"

 "I'm sure I'll not be able to eat a bite," sighed Dorothy, picking up the

  Tell-all-escope. "How can you even think of supper with those awful airmen

  flying to the Emerald City? Oh, why don't we go after them now?"

 "Because I do not believe Nick will take them to the Emerald City," said

  Jellia, straightening her crown. "He'll lose them somehow and then come

  back here for Wanny and me."

 "My own deduction exactly," agreed the Wizard, walking briskly along beside

  Jellia. "But wherever Nick is, we'll find him same as we have found you."

 "How did you find us?" asked Jellia, stopping short and staring up into the

  Wizard's face. "I've been wondering about that."

 "Well, you see," explained the little magician impressively, "on the Ozpril

  there is a magnetic compass that shows the exact course taken by the

  Oztober, provided that both planes are in flight. By following the compass,

  I followed your exact route. The delay in our arrival was caused by the

  difference in speed!"

 "Why, them, you saw the very same things we did," cried Jellia, nodding

  distantly to several airlanders who were bowing to the ground as the little

  procession passed.

 "The very same," said the Wizard. Then, as a little afterthought, "By the

  way, what did you see?"

 "Oh, nothing much but clouds, fog, an icecloud, and some flying airimals

  with spikes," Jellia told him briefly as she started up the long steps to

  the Royal Pavilion.

 "The same with us," said the Wizard, taking out a little book and squinting

  hastily at the precisely written entries. "FF20`Clouds, fogs, spiked

  monsters.' AH!" He closed the book with a little exclamation of admiration.

  "So this is the seat of Government?"

 "I must say I prefer a castle," observed the Scarecrow, jumping up the steps

  three at a time. "Still, all these columns are very pretty. Very pretty

  indeed!"

 "Is my throne comfortable?" inquired the Cowardly Lion with a lordly sniff.

 "That's right," giggled Jellia, "you $$will&& have to sit on the throne C4

  that is, if Wanny doesn't mind." The little maid turned mischievously to

  the Soldier with Green Whiskers. "After all, you are a kind of King, too!"

 "Not on your life!" declared Wantowin violently. "I wouldn't trade one

  button on my uniform for all the jewels in Strut's crown, nor one blade of

  Oz grass for all the rocks in Stratovania!"

 "Bravo! Bravo!" applauded the Scarecrow. Having tied his balloons to one of

  the pillars, he was bouncing up and down on a blue air cushion. "Try one,"

  he invited, shoving a couple toward the Wizard. Instead of one, the Wizard

  put three of the air cushions together and stretched out at full length.

 "You can't imagine how tired a fellow grows after sixteen hours of flying,"

  he murmured drowsily. "Hah, hoh, HUM! I hope you girls will excuse me if I

  take a little nap."

 "I wouldn't mind a nap myself," yawned Dorothy. Though she had dozed part of

  the night before, she felt extremely sleepy. Without much urging from

  Jellia, she curled up on a couch at the back of the pavilion and was asleep

  almost before her head touched the pillows.

 "The best thing in the world for them," grinned the Scarecrow as Jellia

  looked rather nervously from one sleeper to the other. "We'll probably have

  to fly all night C4 if we get away from here at all! The Wiz needs a good

  rest before he does any more piloting."

 "Yes," agreed Jellia with a sigh, "I suppose he does. But I hope the lion's

  not going to sleep, too." Climbing to her throne, Jellia gave him a good

  poke in the ribs. The lion, who was leaning back against the cushions with

  both eyes closed, shook his head.

 "I never sleep on an empty stomach," he declared firmly. "Besides, a lion

  can go for days C4 if necessary C4 without rest or refreshment."

 "Didn't you bring anything to eat at all?" inquired Jellia. Being terribly

  hungry herself, she could sympathize with the hungry beast.

 "Oh," answered the lion without opening his eyes, "we did have a few square

  meal tablets the Wizard happened to have in his pocket. But while they fill

  you up, they don't seem to satisfy."

 "Same with the food here," said Jellia.

 "Food!" The Cowardly Lion's nose began to twitch with eagerness. "Where is

  any?"

 "If I am not mistaken, supper is approaching now!" announced the Scarecrow,

  peering out through the side draperies of the Canopy. "Is this one of your

  many servants, my dear?"

 "Oh, I suppose so," said Jellia as Bittsywittle trudged up the crystal steps

  balancing a huge tray on his head. He had been warned of the change in

  Strut, but the sight of the huge monster on the throne unnerved the little

  fellow, and he began to tremble so violently, the dishes on the tray danced

  a regular jig.

 "Just put the tray on the table," directed Jellia patiently. "And don't

  jump, Bittsywittle! Strut won't bite you."

 "How do you know I won't?" roared the Cowardly Lion, opening his eyes so

  wide Bittsywittle set down the tray and scuttled off like a hare. Without

  much enthusiasm, Jellia noted Kabebe had sent them six saucers of wind

  pudding and six glasses of air-ade."

 "Don't touch it!" warned the Soldier with Green Whiskers as the lion

  slithered off the throne and ambled to the table. "It will make you feel

  very funny."

 "Well, I'd rather feel funny than sad," said the lion, sniffing the pudding

  delicately, "and I'd rather feel funny than starve. Aren't you having any,

  Jellia?"

 "No, thank you!" Jellia shook her head sharply and exchanged a quiet wink

  with Wantowin. But the Cowardly Lion did not notice the wink. Or at least

  he pretended not to and hurriedly lapped up all six saucers.

 "Why, it's delicious!" he murmured rapturously. "DeliC4"

 "Hey, where are you going?" The Scarecrow had been watching him enviously,

  for the pink pudding looked so good he almost wished he found it necessary

  to eat. But now he spun round in alarm, for without any warning at all the

  lion had swelled and puffed up like a carnival balloon and gone wafting

  upward to soar in dizzy circles over their heads.

 "Oh, he's just putting on airs because he's King," teased Jellia, wishing

  Dorothy were awake to enjoy the fun.

 "But he might easily float off," worried the Scarecrow, pursuing the

  luckless lion with outstretched arms. "Wait, I'll save you!" he puffed, and

  snatching the cord from a long bell pull, he leaped on Strut's throne.

  After several unsuccessful attempts, he managed to lasso the lion and tie

  him fast to the arm of the throne. "How do you feel?" he called

  solicitously, for the lion, with closed eyes and a desperate expression,

  was paddling his legs like a drowning dog.

 "Oh, take it easy!" advised Jellia, relenting a little. "You'll float around

  all by yourself and come down presently as light as a feather. I know,

  'cause I've tried it. Hello, here's Hippenscop! Now I wonder what he wants.

  Oh! My goodness! He's actually brought me two of those flying sticks!"

 "Flying sticks?" exclaimed the Scarecrow, sliding off Strut's throne. "You

  don't tell me!" The messenger by this time had reached the top step of the

  Pavilion. After a fearful look at the people from Oz, he advanced timidly

  toward Jellia.

 "I have brought the flying sticks, your Majesty!" explained Hippenscop,

  holding them out with great pride and satisfaction. "I stole them from two

  sleeping watchmen and managed to bring them here without Kabebe seeing me."

 "KABEBE?" said Jellia with an uncomfortable start. "Why, where is Kabebe?"

 "In Star Park," whispered the Messenger hoarsely. "She's got all the people

  worked up and excited! They're coming here presently to blow you away!"

 "What?" gasped Jellia in an exasperated voice. "Again? Why, she knows Strut

  will never allow that."

 "But Kabebe says HE isn't Strut!" said the messenger with an apologetic bow

  toward the Cowardly Lion, who, paying no attention to the conversation, was

  floating in distracted circles above the throne. "Now Junnenrump and I

  believe your Majesty, and consider you the best and prettiest Starina

  Stratovania ever had! But no one else does, so first they are going to blow

  away the Friend Ship, and then they are coming here to blow $$you&& all

  away! So while I do not presume to give orders, if I were in your Majesty's

  place, I'd fly this very instant and while there still is time!"

 "The boy is right," declared the Soldier, grabbing up his blunderbuss.

  "Company! Fall in! Forward, march!"

 "Wake up! Wake up!" cried the Scarecrow, pummeling the Wizard with both

  hands. "The Airlanders are destroying our Ozoplane!" While Jellia, really

  touched by the messenger's loyalty, gave him one of her emerald rings,

  Wantowin Battles lifted Dorothy off the soft sofa and set her hastily on

  her feet.

 "Forward! Forward!" he urged, pushing her ahead of him. "Kabebe's coming to

  blow us away!" Dorothy, blinking her eyes after a look at the Cowardly Lion

  floating over the throne, concluded she still was dreaming. But the Soldier

  kept shaking her till she finally realized she was awake and in danger.

 "This way!" cried Jellia as the Wizard bounced off his cushions. "This way!

  The thing for us to do is to run to the other side of the airosphere. Then,

  while those villains are blowing the Ozpril away, we can be reaching the

  edge andFF20C4"

 "And WHAT?" queried Dorothy, looking at Jellia with round, scared eyes.

  Jellia, for reasons of her own, did not answer. The Scarecrow already had

  retrieved his balloons. Now he pressed the cord, still attached to the

  Cowardly Lion, into Wantowin's hand.

 "You must pull him along with you," directed the Scarecrow earnestly. "I am

  too light. And DO let's be starting!" The angry buzz of the crowd on its

  way to Half Moon Lake already could be heard. So without stopping to plan

  or reason the travelers from Oz slipped through the back curtains of the

  Royal Pavilion and began running as fast as they could toward the other

  side of Strut's curious air realm.

 The Wizard, grasping his kit-bag in one hand and Dorothy by the other, went

  first. Next came Jellia, carrying the two flying sticks; the Scarecrow

  clutched his bunch of balloons. Last of all ran Wantowin, dragging the

  growling and disgusted lion after him through the air. Fortunately,

  Stratovania is long and narrow. In less time than they had dared hope, the

  little cavalcade came to the edge. Forbidding cliffs stretched along the

  whole coast, and the moist, blue air seemed actually to be breaking in

  great waves against the rocks. As they all gazed unhappily outward, a

  terrific "BOOM" made them all shudder.

 "Well, there goes the Ozpril," mourned Jellia, patting the Wizard

  compassionately on the shoulder. The Wizard, looking very angry and grim,

  nodded his head. "Come on," puffed Jellia, stepping closer to the cliffs,

  "unless we want to go up with the ship, we've got to jump! And really, it's

  not so bad as it sounds! I've seen the airlanders fly with these winged

  staffs, and these two will have to do for us all."

 "How do they work?" asked Dorothy in a faint voice.

 "Why, you tap them once on the ground to start, and once on the handle to

  stop," explained Jellia breathlessly. "Now, suppose Dot and I and the

  Scarecrow ride one and Wiz and the Soldier the other. And for cake's sake,

  don't let go our lion!" added Jellia.

 "But suppose he deflates and pulls us all down with his weight," groaned the

  Soldier. "Why can't he float along by himself?"

 "Because I'm not going to have it!" said Jellia determinedly. "You must hold

  on to him and risk whatever happens! And if anything does happen, the

  Wizard will think of something!"

 "I $$have&& thought of something!" said the Wizard composedly. "But first we

  must do as Jellia says. HARK! Isn't that Kabebe calling you?" As a matter

  of fact, it was. The Stratovanians, after witnessing the blow-off of the

  Ozpril, had rushed back to the Royal Pavilion. Furious at the disappearance

  of their victims, they now were rushing toward the crystal cliffs, the

  screams of Kabebe rising above all the rest.

 "What do we do, ride 'em like broomsticks?" jabbered the Scarecrow as Jellia

  with shaking hands held out one of the sticks to the Wizard.

 "A good idea!" approved the little magician, watching with deep interest as

  the wings on the tip of his staff opened and spread. "Come along, Soldier,

  or the mob will get you yet!" With wildly beating hearts, Dorothy and

  Jellia watched the Wizard and the Soldier mount the flying stick and boldly

  leap from the cliff's edge. The Cowardly Lion let out a terrified howl as

  he was dragged after them, but Jellia, Dorothy and the Scarecrow without

  further hesitation mounted their own staff and hurled themselves into space

  just as the Queen and her cohorts came panting into view.

 CHAPTER 12

 THE FLIGHT TO OZ

 Keeping the flying sticks in a more-or-less level position so they would not

  slip off and at the same time pointing them downward required no little

  skill. The Wizard, being used to magic appliances, mastered his in

  double-quick time. But Jellia, who sat in front on the other staff, soared

  up for seventy feet and across for fifty before she learned the trick of

  flying it. During the first twenty minutes of their flight not a word was

  spoken. Each had enough to do to hold on, and the Cowardly Lion, hurtling

  through the air beside the Soldier with Green Whiskers, looked the picture

  of despair and discouragement. A dozen times Dorothy, after a glance

  downward, gave herself up for lost. But gradually the strangeness of their

  situation wore off. Passing out of the moist, clammy strata just below

  Strut's Kingdom into a drier and less-clouded area, the spirits of the

  little band of adventurers rose. The wings of each flying staff, though not

  large, were powerful as airplane propellers, and they flapped as

  rhythmically as the wings of a bird.

 "Not exactly like riding in an Ozoplane!" called the Wizard, waving

  cheerfully to Jellia. "Still, it's better than falling, eh?" Jellia, who

  had maneuvered her staff to a position close to his, nodded emphatically.

 "What worries me is the altitude!" she called back presently. "Somewhere or

  other we lost our air helmets. Will the effects of those altitude pills

  wear off before we're out of the strat?"

 "No, we'll be all right," promised the Wizard. "My altitude pills condition

  one for the upper areas for several days at a time!"

 "Oh! Then everything's splendid!" sighed Jellia, pushing back her curly

  locks and smiling at Dorothy.

 "Unless we meet a meteor, and then our flight will soon be o'er," quavered

  the Scarecrow, waving his arm in a doleful circle.

 "Now, now, don't anticipate!" advised the Wizard, guiding the staff with one

  hand and opening his kit bag with the other. For several moments he had

  been anxiously regarding the Cowardly Lion. The buoyancy resulting from the

  wind pudding was at last subsiding, and the swelled and bloated appearance

  of the unfortunate beast was fast disappearing. At almost any time now, the

  lion would become a dead weight. His poundage, added to the Wizard's and

  the Soldier's, would be too much for the flying staff, and they all would

  plunge like plummets to the earth. Feeling hurriedly around in the kit-bag,

  the Wizard pulled out a small black bottle. Uncorking it with his teeth, he

  turned it upside down and held it out at arm's length until not a drop of

  its oily contents remained.

 "Now, don't be alarmed at a sudden bump!" he warned as his companions

  watched him with surprise and curiosity. "Whatever happens, hold on to your

  staff!" Scarcely had the Wizard issued his warning when the air directly

  beneath them froze into a solid block of blue ice on which they landed with

  a series of bumps and began sliding around in great confusion. "Nothing to

  worry about! Nothing to worry about!" panted the Wizard, keeping a firm

  hold on his flying stick and at the same time managing to extract a large

  envelope from the kit-bag. "Hold on to that stick, Jellia, and keep it

  down!"

 The Cowardly Lion, completely deflated by his smack against the ice, was

  sprawled flat as an animal skin in the center of the berg. Dismounting from

  his own staff, the Wizard scurried perilously round the edges of the

  rapidly falling block of ice, scattering seeds from his envelope with a

  lavish hand. Instantly, or so it seemed to Dorothy, a thick, green hedge

  sprang up, enclosing them snugly inside.

 "To keep us from tumbling off," explained the Wizard, sliding anxiously

  after Wantowin Battles, who was galloping round and round on his flying

  stick like a child on a merry-go-round. "Whoa, whoa!" cried Ozma's chief

  magician, grabbing the Soldier's coattails. "We need these sticks to act as

  brakes to stop our fall!" Unseating the Soldier, the Wizard lifted the

  flying stick and stuck it through the top branches of the hedge. Bidding

  the others dismount from their staff, he thrust it through the hedge on the

  opposite side. The wings of both staffs kept up their steady beating and,

  as the Wizard had predicted, acted as strong brakes on the plunging cake of

  ice.

 "I was afraid we'd lose our lion," explained the Wizard as the little

  company of adventurers gathered breathlessly round him.

 "I'd just as lief be lost as frozen!" Sneezing plaintively, the lion pulled

  himself to his feet and slid over to the hedge, bracing his back against

  its stouter branches.

 "It won't be long before we strike solid earth now, old fellow," the Wizard

  observed brightly.

 "Strike the earth!" roared the lion. "Well, goodbye, friends! I'll say it

  now, before I'm squashed and scattered to the four points of the compass!"

 "Never mind, you'll make a lovely splatter!" teased the Scarecrow. "Better

  stamp your feet, girls, to keep from freezing!"

 "Here, stand on my coat," offered the Wizard gallantly. "Not YOU!"

  Indignantly he pushed the Soldier with Green Whiskers aside. "You can stand

  on your own coat!"

 "But it's against regulations for a soldier to appear without his jacket,"

  shivered Wantowin piteously. "The manual of arms saysFF20C4"

 "How about the manual of feet?" snorted the Scarecrow, thankful he was

  stuffed with cotton and incapable of feeling the cold. "Say, Wiz, I guess

  this is about the oddest flying trip a band of explorers ever had."

 "Did those magic drops freeze the air into ice?" called Dorothy. "And how'd

  you grow the hedge so fast?"

 "Yes, the drops froze the air," the Wizard bawled back, for the rush of air

  as they shot downward made it difficult to hold polite conversation. "And I

  just happened to have some of my instant sprouting saplings in that

  kit-bag."

 To keep up their spirits, they continued to shout back and forth as they

  fell. "I don't suppose we'll $$ever&& catch up with Strut and Nick Chopper

  now," screamed Jellia, hooking her arms securely through the hedge.

 "Why not?" cried the Wizard. "As soon as we land, we can fly these flying

  sticks straight to the Emerald City and be there before the Oztober

  arrives. Remember now, the first one up after we hit the earth is to snatch

  a winged staff."

 "And how do you suppose we will be able to rise after striking the earth at

  one hundred and forty miles an hour?" roared the lion a trifle

  sarcastically.

 "Well, it won't hurt $$me!&&" boasted the Scarecrow, holding to his hat with

  both hands. He had lost the balloons long ago. "And I promise to pick up

  the rest of you as soon as possible. Is there anything in that kit-bag for

  breaks, sprains and bruises, Wiz?"

 "Oh, hold your tongue!" snapped Jellia, trying to peer over the hedge.

  "We're not going to crash at all! We'll probably get stuck on a steeple or

  tower!"

 "How'd Nick manage with his flying?" shrieked the Wizard, who was anxious to

  change the subject. The less said about their landing the better. Of

  course, they could take to the flying sticks and abandon the Cowardly Lion,

  but that did not seem exactly sporting. So he resolutely put the thought of

  it out of his mind."Grand, just grand!" answered Jellia, making a megaphone

  of her hands. "Nick had the Oztober going smoothly as a swallow!"

 "That's good!" boomed the Wizard, beating his arms against his breast to

  keep warm. "Maybe we'll get the best of Strut yet and bring the Oztober

  safely down. I'd certainly like to have one ship left to present to Ozma!"

 "How long'll it be before we do get down?" called Dorothy as the Wizard

  paused for breath. "Seems to me we're falling faster. FASTER AND FASTER!"

 "Any minute now," predicted the Wizard, popping his head over the top of the

  hedge. "Oh! It's going to be all right! he shouted joyfully. "We're coming

  down right in the middle of a great bigFF20C4"

 SPLASH!

 Before the Wizard could finish his sentence, the block of ice struck the

  smooth surface of a large mountain lake and went completely under. As it

  came bobbing to the top, its drenched and shivering passengers looked at

  one another with mingled dismay and relief. Dorothy, picking up the

  Wizard's coat, handed it back and then went slipping and sliding over to

  help the Scarecrow, who was too water-soaked and sodden even to move.

 "Wring me out! Hang me up to dry, somebody!" gurgled the straw man dismally.

 "Grrr-rah!" The Cowardly Lion, outraged at the cold plunge after all the

  other shocks and indignities of the day, jumped over the hedge and began to

  swim grimly for the shore. The Soldier with Green Whiskers, better at

  carrying out orders than the others, already was pulling one of the flying

  sticks from the hedge. As it came loose, he took a brief glance over the

  top, gave an agonized shriek, and fell backward, stepping all over the

  Wizard, who was just behind him.

 "An army!" shivered Wantowin, clutching his dripping beard. "Thousands of

  them!"

 "It $$is&& an army, too!" echoed Jellia, who had parted the hedge to have a

  look for herself.

 "What do they look like?" demanded the Wizard, shoving past the soldier and

  grabbing the winged staff, which was on the point of flying off by itself.

 "Like trouble!" said Jellia, reaching for Dorothy's hand. "They have long

  bows and pointed red beards and C4 my goodyness C4 their beards are

  pointed straight at us!"

 "Bearded Bowmen, eh?" grunted the Wizard. "Well, that doesn't prove they're

  unfriendly." The Wizard stuck his head over the hedge, barely avoiding the

  arrow that sped past his ear.

 "I suppose you'd call THAT unfriendly," sniffed Jellia, flopping on her

  stomach and pulling Dorothy down with her. The Wizard had no time to

  answer, for Wantowin Battles had one of the winged staffs and was preparing

  to ride by himself.

 "Drop it! Drop it at once!" commanded the Wizard sharply. "How dare you fly

  off without us? Why, it's plain desertion, that's what!"

 "I was just going to do a bit of reconnoitering," mumbled the Soldier,

  looking terribly abashed and then diving to a place beside Jellia as three

  more arrows came hissing over the hedge. Quickly recovering the staff, the

  wet little Wizard crouched down.

 "Now girls!" he directed, panting from the exertion of holding down both

  sticks. "When I give the signal, you and the Scarecrow mount one staff, and

  Wantowin and I will mount the other, and fly high over the enemy lines!"

 "The higher the better," said Jellia as a perfect shower of arrows whizzed

  over their heads.

 CHAPTER 13

 THE KING OF THE KUDGERS

 The Wizard's plan worked very well at first. He and the Soldier astride one

  stick, Dorothy and Jellia holding the poor, sodden Scarecrow between them

  on the other, shot high into the air, across the lake and over the amazed

  ranks of Bowmen drawn up on the bank. Before the Red Beards had recovered

  from their surprise, the travelers were winging strongly toward the

  turreted red castle that crowned the mountaintop. The Cowardly Lion, to

  escape the flying arrows, had swum under water. Now, scrambling up the

  bank, he neatly skirted the enemy and ran swiftly beneath the two flying

  staffs.

 "As soon as we're safely past this castle, we'll descend, rest, dry our

  clothes and then proceed to the Emerald City," called the Wizard, turning

  to wave encouragingly at the two girls.

 But at that moment a dreadful thing happened. Sprawled on a huge camp chair

  on the sloping terrace before the castle, its huge, red-bearded owner

  suddenly sighted the flying sticks and their riders. Seizing the long bow

  that lay beside him, he sent two arrows speeding upward, one right after

  the other. Each arrow found its mark and splintered a flying stick. With

  spine-shattering suddenness, the travelers crashed to earth. Dorothy,

  describing it to Ozma later, explained that although she never had been in

  a battle, she knew exactly how a warrior felt when his horse was shot from

  under him. Except, of course, that a horseman would not have had so far to

  fall. The Scarecrow, tumbling off first, softened the bump for both girls.

  The Wizard and Soldier plunged headlong into a red-pepper bush. While not

  seriously injured, they were grievously scratched and shaken. But the worst

  was not the blow to their pride and persons; the worst was to see the upper

  and winged halves of their precious sticks flying away without them.

 "Oh! Oh!" groaned the Wizard, leaping out of the pepper bush and running for

  an anguished yard or two after the vanishing staffs. "This is awful, AWFUL!

  Come back! Come down!" he implored, realizing even as he shouted that the

  sticks could neither hear nor obey.

 "Noo then, whew are yew?" The startled Red Beard hoisted himself out of his

  camp chair. "W-itches riding on br-hoom sticks? Noo then, call off yewer

  dog!" The Cowardly Lion, noting the mischief already done by the Red King's

  bow, had seized it in his teeth and backed rapidly into the bushes. The

  Wizard, reluctantly withdrawing his gaze from the sky, now stamped over to

  the astonished owner of the castle.

 "Just see what you've done," he cried angrily. "Destroyed the only winged

  staffs in Oz. We flew them all the way from the Strat, and now how are we

  to reach the Emerald City in time to stop the airlanders? Don't you realize

  C4 but how could you?" In sudden discouragement, the Wizard broke off and

  stared despondently around the rugged mountaintop. "I must tell you," he

  began in a hoarse and desperate voice, "that Ozma and the Emerald City are

  in great danger. Strut of the Strat and a host of his flying Stratovanians

  are descending to conquer Oz and carry off Ozma's treasure. If we fail to

  warn her, the city is lost, doomed, I tell you! Since you have shattered

  our flying sticks, you must quickly supply us with some other means of

  travel. We must reach the capital before morning!"

 "MUST!" roared the Bearded Bowman. "Are yew shouting `must' at ME?"

 "Be careful!" cried Dorothy. For the Wizard in his earnestness had stepped

  closer and closer to the red King. But her cry was too late. Without any

  warning, the King's pointed beard, rising with his wrath, pointed straight

  out and struck the valiant Wizard to the earth. For a whole minute he lay

  perfectly still, staring up at this curious phenomenon. Though he had seen

  many a beard in his day, he had never been knocked down by one before.

 "Whew are yew?" demanded the burly mountain monarch again. "How dare yew fly

  over my castle and swim in my lake without permission?" Stroking his beard,

  which gradually resumed a vertical position on his chest, he stared from

  one to the other of the adventurers. "No use to run," he sneered as

  Wantowin Battles began to back toward the bushes. "My bowmen will be here

  any moment now! But WHEW are YEW?"

 "Wheww!" groaned Jellia, propping the bedraggled Scarecrow against a rock.

  "A body'd hardly know after such a welcome.20Whew are hew yewerself, yew

  old Redbeard?"

 "I?" roared the Bowman, taken completely by surprise. "Why, don't yew know?

  I am Bustabo, King of the Kudgers and Red Top Mountain."

 "I don't believe it," said the Wizard, leaping agilely to his feet and

  shaking his fist under Bustabo's long nose. "A $$real&& King would not

  treat travelers as you have done, shoot away valuable flying sticks and

  keep two lovely girls standing out here in the wind."

 "How dew yew know what a King would dew?" demanded Bustabo, puckering his

  forehead in an uneasy frown.

 "Because," stated the Wizard, folding his arms disdainfully, "I personally

  know all the most important rulers in Oz, and none of them would behave as

  you have done. If you are a King, act like a King!"

 "Whew are yew?" repeated the Ruler of Red Top, walking around the little

  group with hands clasped behind his back.

 "Oh, for Oz sake, tell him!" snarled the Cowardly Lion, poking his head out

  of the bushes. "If he asks that question again, I might eat him up, pointed

  beard and all!"

 "Well, this is the Wizard of Oz," explained Dorothy as the Lion stalked

  grimly out of the bushes. "Chief Magician for Ozma of Oz. ThisFF20C4"

  Dorothy, with a wave of her hand, indicated the trembling soldier "C4FF20

 this is Wantowin Battles, the Grand Army of Oz. Beside him is our famous

  live Scarecrow. I am Princess Dorothy of Oz, and this is Jellia Jam, First

  Lady in Waiting to Ozma. Coming toward you is the Cowardly Lion of Oz."

 "He doesn't look very cowardly to me," muttered Bustabo, putting the camp

  chair between himself and the approaching beast.

 "Oh, but I am cowardly," growled the lion growlishly, "and when I'm

  frightened I never know what I'll do. I might even chew up the King of this

  Mountain! Whoever heard of a King pointing his beard at harmless travelers?

  Whoever heard of a King with a beard as hard and red as yours, anyway? It's

  hard as iron from the looks of it."

 "Harder!" agreed the King, evidently considering the lion's remark a

  compliment. "All we Kudgers have red beards, not of soft hair like hisFF20

 C4" The Red King gazed contemplatively at the Soldier with Green Whiskers

  "C4FF20but of hard hair like mine. I don't suppose yew've ever seen a

  beard like this before. The point's sharp as a dagger, too," he warned as

  the lion sprang a pace closer.

 "Oh, I'm sure it is," said Dorothy nervously. "And it's dreadfully handsome,

  too. But could your Majesty please let us dry out in your castles, and then

  could you show us the quickest route to the Emerald City? If you don't,"

  finished Dorothy, clasping her hands anxiously, "the ruler of this whole

  country of Oz may be captured and carried to the Strat."

 "What do I care about the Ruler of Oz?" sniffed Bustabo, scratching his head

  in a most unkingly manner. "Ozma never does anything for me! Even if she

  were conquered, I'd still have my Mountain. Why should I help yew or her or

  them?" His scornful wave included the whole little group. "What can yew dew

  for me?" he asked sullenly. "Can yew sing?" His dull eye brightened

  momentarily as it rested inquiringly on Dorothy.

 "Well, a little," confessed Dorothy, smoothing down her damp dress. Clearing

  her throat and fixing her eye on the top of a red pine, she started in

  rather a choked voice:

 "Oh, Bright and gay is the Land of Oz. We love its lakes and hills

  becozFF20C4"

 "There, there! That will dew!" Bustabo snapped his fingers impatiently, and

  taking out a little book scribbled hastily, "Can't sing."

 "Can yew dance?" he demanded, addressing himself to Jellia. "We are short of

  good dancers on this mountain." Jellia by this time was in such a state of

  cold and temper, she stamped her foot and turned her back on the unmannerly

  monarch. "Can't dance," wrote Bustabo under the first entry.

 "Well, then, what $$dew&& yew dew?" he asked, turning in exasperation to the

  Wizard.

 "I?" said the Wizard, twirling his water-soaked topper, "I am a Wizard.

  Naturally, I supposed a King like yourself would have everything he

  desired. But if that is not the case, tell me what you wish and perhaps I

  can help you. Only be quick!" he added earnestly. "For we have no time to

  lose."

 "Sooo, yew really are a Wizard!" Bustabo's expression became almost

  agreeable. "Well, then," he drew himself up pompously. "The Princess whom I

  wish to wed has unaccountably disappeared. Find and return her to this

  castle, and I will speed yew and yewer friends to the Emerald City by the

  safest and swiftest route!"

 "But that would take too much time," objected the Wizard, rubbing his chin

  anxiously. "Who is this Princess? Why has she gone? What is her name and

  what does she look like?"

 "If yew were a real Wizard, yew would know all these things without my

  telling yew," answered Bustabo, looking suspiciously at Ozma's Chief

  Magician. "I'll tell you this much, though. The Princess whom I would marry

  is called Azarine, the Red. Not three days ago she was in this castle, but

  on the morning of our wedding day she ran off into the forest, and though

  all my Bowmen have been searching ever since, not a trace of her have they

  found!"

 "Humph, the girl showed very good sense, if you ask me," sniffed the

  Cowardly Lion, shaking his mane. "What did you do? Point your beard at her?

  Come on, Wiz! Let's go. We're just wasting time here."

 "Aha, but yew cannot leave! Look behind yew!" Bustabo, with an enormous

  laugh, pointed over his shoulder. Silently as Indians, the Bearded Bowmen

  had crept up and entirely surrounded the little company on the green.

  Standing in a circle with bows raised and beards pointed, they fairly dared

  anyone to take a step. "Soo, then, it's all settled!" The Red King clapped

  the Wizard heartily on the back. "Don't think I have not heard of yewer

  skill, Mister Weezard. Even here on Red Top we've heard rumors of the

  wonderful Weezard of Oz. Now all yew have to dew is walk into that forest,

  find the Princess and bring her back to me. Meanwhile, I shall treat these

  others as my guests. They shall rest and warm themselves and have all they

  wish to eat. If by morning yew have failed to return, I shall regretfully

  be forced to throw them off the mountain. If yew dew return, yew will find

  that Bustabo will keep his word and bargain."

 The Wizard hardly knew what to say.

 "If he knows so much, why does he not help himself?" demanded one of the Red

  Beards, stepping insolently out of the circle. "People who can fly through

  the air on icebergs and sticks do not need help from ordinary folk like us.

  Why doesn't he fly to the Emerald City if he's so smart? I'll tell you why:

  because he's not the Wizard of Oz! He's a fraud, that's what!"

 "If he's a fraud, then you're a rascal!" cried Jellia Jam, remembering

  suddenly that she recently had been a Starina. "Your Princess is as good as

  found, Mister King! Isn't that so, Wizard?"

 Meeting Jellia's firm gaze, the Wizard nodded quickly. "This young Oz girl

  is right, your Majesty! Before the sun rises, Azarine will return to this

  castle!"

 "Yes, and now bid your vassals lead us into the castle!" ordered Jellia

  sharply. "Bring us soup, meat, bread, vegetables and plenty of fruit and

  cake!"

 Bustabo, after a long look both at Jellia and the Wizard, motioned for the

  Bowmen to lead the visitors into the castle. The Cowardly Lion trailed

  suspiciously along in the rear, keeping a sharp watch to see that no beards

  were pointed at his friends. The Wizard accompanied them part way,

  conversing in earnest whispers with Jellia and Dorothy. Wantowin Battles

  supported the dripping and still-helpless Scarecrow, and each tried not to

  show the anxiety he felt when the Wizard finally turned to leave them.

 "Goodbye, all!" he said, lifting his dripping hat. "Goodbye, Jellia, $$here

  is your bag!&&" Tapping the kit-bag significantly, he pressed it into

  Jellia's cold hands. Then, without a word to Bustabo or his Henchmen, he

  strode resolutely toward the dark forest that covered the sides and more

  than half of the top of the mountain. Relenting a little, the Red King sent

  a Bowman running after him with a basket of provisions. Taking the basket

  with a brief nod of thanks, the Wizard waved again to his friends and

  marched straight into the gloomy and forbidding woods.

 CHAPTER 14

 AZARINE THE RED

 The late afternoon shadows made the forest seem even gloomier. The little

  Wizard, trudging along under the rustling red trees, hands thrust deep into

  his pockets, never had felt more depressed or unhappy. He had hated to

  leave his friends with a Monarch as cruel and untrustworthy as Bustabo.

  Still, he had the utmost confidence in Jellia Jam. The Young Oz Miss

  doubtless had some plan in her clever little head and had chosen this way

  for him to escape, meaning to follow with the others at the first

  opportunity. Anyway, he reflected, dropping down on a heap of fallen leaves

  and resting his back against a tree, they had the kit-bag to help them if

  worst came to worst. Perhaps if he had concentrated and thought very hard,

  he could recall the powerful incantation for locating missing persons and

  articles.

 But a wizard without his books and equipment is almost as helpless as a

  doctor without his pills and medicine bag. Try as he could, the Wizard

  could not remember the proper combination of words to bring back the

  missing Princess. His short nap in Stratovania had rested him a little, but

  he still was dreadfully weary from his grueling flight and the recent

  shocks and mischances. The loss of the Ozpril had been the worst blow of

  all, and now his tired brain simply refused to work. So, sitting sadly

  under the tree, he munched the sandwiches from the basket, drank from the

  bottle of cold tea, and wished fervently for a fire to warm himself, for

  his clothes were still damp and clammy from the dive in Bustabo's lake. It

  comforted him a little to know that the others were drying out and enjoying

  a good supper in the castle. But it was no comfort at all to realize that

  Strut and his legions were winging their way toward the Emerald City, the

  city $$he&& had built and lived in so long it seemed more like home than

  any place he had known in America.

 The Wizard crammed the rest of the sandwiches into the basket and started

  recklessly through the forest, tripping over tough vines and rocks, bumping

  into trees and peering desperately about for traces of a Princess or for

  any sign that might tell him in which direction the Emerald City lay. From

  the slant of the ground he knew he was traveling down the mountain, and the

  deep red foliage told him he was somewhere in the Quadling country of Oz.

  But with night coming on and the shadows growing deeper and darker, he

  probably would lose his way entirely and never get out of the forest at

  all. He felt uneasy at leaving his comrades behind in the Red King's

  Castle. Was it better to try to save Ozma and the Emerald City or to stay

  in this forest and help Dorothy and Jellia and the devoted friends who had

  embarked on this unexpected adventure with him?

 Stopping short, the Wizard pressed both hands to his forehead in an effort

  to make up his mind. Night already had overtaken him, and it was now so

  dark, it was impossible to see more than a foot or so in any direction.

  Occasional roars, the snapping of twigs and the gleam of yellow eyes from

  the thicket caused him no little anxiety. At an especially savage roar he

  suddenly stopped worrying about Ozma and the others and began to do

  considerable worrying about himself.

 How humbling for a Wizard to be devoured by a hungry beast! Backing softly

  away from the approaching monster, he began looking sharply about for a

  hollow tree, a cave, or even a clump of bushes where he might conceal

  himself. On the tip of his tongue and ready for instant use was the magic

  word that would render him invisible. Fortunately, he did remember that.

  But the Wizard never wasted words, magic or otherwise. Resolving to wait

  till the last possible moment, he continued to back rapidly and cautiously.

  Then, unexpectedly from behind him came another distraction: the clear

  ringing of a silver bell. At the same time the gloom was pierced by a

  dancing ray of light. Swinging round, the Wizard flung up both arms, and

  not knowing whether to dash into the teeth of the monster in front of him

  or risk the lowered horns of the huge beast behind him, the startled

  magician uttered the word that rendered him invisible.

 "Brr-rah!" raged the burly, bear-like creature, rearing up on his hind legs.

  "Where is that pesky man-creature? I saw him a moment ago, but now, though

  I still catch his scent, he has hidden from me. And why must you, Shagomar,

  come horning in to spoil my supper? Why cannot you mind your own business,

  Br-rrah!"

 "I am minding my own business," roared the creature addressed as Shagomar.

  "AWAY, you Entomophagus monster! Haven't I told you time and again to keep

  away from the cave of the Princess? The very next bug-bear that comes

  prowling 'round shall have a taste of my antlers! Get on with you now, and

  after this leave harmless travelers alone!"

 The great red stag made a short rush at the ugly beast blocking his path.

  Large as a Grizzly, half insect and half bear, it held its ground

  uncertainly for a moment, then shuffled off into the darkness, grunting

  angrily. The Wizard, who had jumped hastily from between the two beasts,

  had listened to the stag's words with lively interest and astonishment.

  Huge and sandy, with antlers of tremendous breadth, the huge creature now

  stood quiet as a statue. From one antler prong hung a flashing silver

  lantern. From another dangled the bell which had so startled the Wizard.

 "Well, friend! Are you still there?" whispered the Stag softly. Instead of

  answering, the Wizard uttered the word that would make him visible. "Come

  with me!" directed the Stag, showing neither surprise nor curiosity at the

  Wizard's sudden reappearance. "You will be safer with us in the cave.

  Surely you are a stranger, or you would know it is dangerous to wander in

  this forest at night."

 "Oh, I don't mind danger," said the Wizard, striding sturdily beside the

  Stag. "I am used to danger, and I must reach the Emerald City before

  morning! Ozma and her whole capitol are threatened by a band of ruthless

  Airlanders, and unless I can give them some warning, the Emerald City

  certainly will be captured by Strut of the Strat. I am Ozma's Chief

  Magician, fallen by great misfortune into this forest."

 "I thought you might be a Wizard," murmured Shagomar, pausing to nibble at a

  few tender leaves. "And you say the Ruler of the whole Land of Oz is in

  danger? Hah, well, we all have our troubles." Exhaling his breath noisily,

  Shagomar looked off between the trees with a troubled frown. "I cannot

  direct you to the Emerald City, but I'm sure the Princess can help you."

 "What Princess do you mean?" asked the Wizard, curious to hear what Shagomar

  would say.

 "Azarine!" whispered the Stag, looking around carefully to see that no one

  was listening. "Azarine the Red, Ruler of Red Top Mountain!"

 "But I thought Bustabo was ruler of the mountain! I just came from his

  castle!" sputtered the Wizard. "He certainly told me he was King of the

  Kudgers."

 "King of the Kudgers, pfui!" The stag shook his head as if a bee were in his

  ear, while his bell played a regular roundelay. "Bustabo was, till a week

  ago, Chief Bowman in Her Majesty's Guard. Using his position and his men to

  help him, he has wickedly seized Azarine's throne, insisting that Azarine

  permit him to be the King of all the Kudgers. When our little Princess

  refused, she was locked up in the tower. But with the assistance of a

  faithful servant, she managed to escape and has been hiding in this forest

  ever since. I, being an old and trusted friend, have been looking out for

  her and will protect her with horn and hoof until her own loyal subjects

  unseat this miserable imposter!"

 "Whew, so that's the way it is!" The Wizard thrust his hands more deeply

  into his pockets. "Well, that settles $$that&&! I won't do it, no matter

  what happens!"

 "Won't do what?" questioned the Stag, looking down sideways at the little

  man.

 "Oh C4 nothing!" Kicking at a stone, the Wizard walked along in a depressed

  silence. Surely no one ever had been in a worse dilemma. If he managed by a

  trick or by force to carry Azarine back to the Red Castle, Dorothy and his

  friends would be released instantly and all of them speeded on their way to

  the Capitol. If he did not return the Princess to the castle, his brave and

  faithful companions would be flung off the mountain, Strut would conquer

  the Emerald City, and everything would be lost. LOST!

 But when, a few minutes later, the Stag pushed through a cluster of bushes

  that concealed the entrance to the cave and the Wizard stepped into the

  presence of Azarine herself, he knew he never would force her to surrender

  to the infamous Bustabo.

 Seated pensively on a rough boulder beside a small fire was the prettiest

  little Princess the Wizard had almost ever seen. Her hair, long and red as

  Glinda's, fell in satiny waves to her feet. She wore a little mesh cap of

  pearls and a white satin Princess dress. A long, red velvet cloak hung

  loosely from her shoulders. Not exactly the costume for a cave, but vastly

  becoming. Azarine's pale and flower-like face was sweet and gentle, and

  when she saw the wet and weary traveler with Shagomar, she jumped up to

  welcome him as graciously as though she still were mistress of her castle.

 "Why, it's the Wizard of Oz!" she cried joyfully after a second look at the

  guest. "Oh, we $$all&& know the Wizard of Oz! I have a picture of you right

  over the grand piano in my castle. Wherever did you find him, Shaggy, dear?

  Has he come all this way to help us?"

 "It will be a great pleasure and privilege, if I may," said the Wizard,

  sitting on a rock opposite the Princess and placing his high hat between

  his knees. "Just now, I happen to be in as much trouble as your Highness.

  But perhapsFF20C4" The Wizard looked thoughtfully at the Stag standing

  motionless at the entrance of the cave. "Can Shagomar run?"

 "Oh, yes! Terribly fast!" Azarine assured him eagerly. "Faster than eagles

  can fly, than water can fall down the mountain, faster than any creature on

  Red Top. Shaggy can do anything!" Jumping up, the Princess ran over to lean

  her head against the Red Stag's shoulder. "He goes to the village each day

  and returns with food. He has brought me blankets for my bed, pillows for

  my head, and has kept away the fierce Bug-bears and all other wild beasts

  that roam the Red Wood. I don't know what I should have done without him!"

  The Princess added softly, "Shaggy's such a dear!"

 "You're both dears!" agreed the Wizard.

 "Are we?" Azarine twinkled her eyes at the Wizard. "But Shaggy's the

  biggest, and we've always been friends, haven't we?" The Stag, looking down

  at Azarine with his bright, steadfast eyes, nodded so vigorously that the

  bell on his antlers rang a veritable medley, and the rays from the silver

  lantern danced into every corner of the dreary cavern.

 "Well, then," the Wizard rubbed his hands briskly together, "Shaggy shall

  carry us straight to the Palace of Glinda the Good Sorceress of the South.

  As Red Top Mountain is in the Quadling Country, her palace must be

  somewhere quite near."

 "Oh, it is! It is!" beamed Azarine. "I've often seen her lights from the

  towers on Red Top. It's just a mile or two from the base of this mountain.

  I never have seen Glinda, but I have heard she is very good and a Powerful

  Sorceress. Do you think she can force Bustabo to give me back my castle and

  my Kingdom?"

 "I know it!" declared the Wizard, picking up his hat and clapping it on the

  back of his head. "But before we start for Glinda's, I must go back and

  rescue my friends from that thieving Red Beard."

 Marching forth and back before the fire, the Wizard related all that had

  happened since he and his party had started off in the two Ozoplanes.

  Hearing the strange tale, Azarine almost forgot her own troubles. When the

  Wizard told how Bustabo had broken the winged staffs on which they hoped to

  ride to the Emerald City and of the wicked bargain he had driven, the

  little Princess generously offered to return to the Red Castle so that Ozma

  and Oz might be saved. But the Wizard would not hear of such a thing. "No!"

  he decided. "Shaggy and I will go back and manage, somehow, to release my

  comrades from the castle. Then we all can start for Glinda's together."

 "Wait," whistled the Stag, who had been listening to the Wizard's story with

  distended eyes and nostrils. "Wait, first I will fetch Dear Deer."

 "Who in Oz is Dear Deer?" inquired the Wizard as Shagomar melted like a

  shadow through the dark opening of the cavern.

 "His wife," explained Azarine with an excited skip. "And that will be just

  splendid, for Dear Deer shall carry all of your friends, and we can ride

  Shaggy!"

 CHAPTER 15

 IN THE RED CASTLE

 And now let us peek in to the doings of Jellia, Dorothy and the others after

  they mournfully watched the Wizard stalk off into the forest.

 With Bowmen ahead of them and Bowmen closely following, the prisoners

  marched slowly into the castle. Afraid not to hurry on account of the

  sharp-pointed beards of the Guards, the little party progressed almost at a

  run.

 Hurrying them through the beautiful throne room and other cheerful

  apartments on the first floor, the Bowmen led them to a covered stone

  stairway curving up from the back courtyard. Up, up, and up tramped the

  Bowmen, and up, up and up trudged the weary travelers. It seemed to Dorothy

  they had climbed a thousand steps before they reached the top. Both girls

  were frightened, but holding their backs straight and their chins high,

  they stepped haughtily along without even a glance at their red-bearded

  captors. Unlocking an iron door at the head of the stair, the Guards

  gruffly ushered them into a round, stone-walled room at the very top of the

  tower. Relocking the door just as gruffly, they took their departure.

 "Thank gooseness there's a fire!" shivered Jellia, running across the room

  to hold out her hands to the crackling blaze. "As soon as we're warm and

  dry, we can decide what to do. Pull up a couple of those benches, Wantowin,

  and for cake's sake don't look so glum! Nobody's been hurt yet!"

 "Ah, but what of the morning?" The Soldier with Green Whiskers wagged his

  head dismally. "That rogue of a Red Beard will pitch us off this mountain

  quick as $$that!&&" Wantowin snapped his cold fingers. "One toss from this

  tower and we're done!" groaned the Army, turning away from one of the

  barred windows with a positive shudder. Glancing out the window nearest

  her, Dorothy saw that the tower had been built at the very edge of the

  mountain. Jagged rocks far below and long-dead trees jutting out from the

  sides of the sheer precipice made it even more formidable.

 "I'm going to sleep," mumbled the lion, settling himself near the fire.

  "What I don't see won't make me feel more cowardly."

 "How true," thought Dorothy. Backing away from the window and resolutely

  keeping her mind off the precipice, she began to help Jellia drape the

  Scarecrow over a bench close to the fire.

 "Not too close, girls," begged the Straw Man nervously. "Fire's almost as

  bad for me as water. One little spark and pouff! Nothing but a bonfire of

  your old friend and comrade!"

 At this point a sharp tap on the door made them all jump, but it was only a

  servant carrying a large tray. At least, Bustabo was keeping his promise

  about supper. The servant was round and jolly. He looked sympathetically at

  the little company, but evidently was afraid to speak to them. Placing his

  tray on a table in the center of the room, he bowed stiffly and withdrew,

  locking the door carefully after him.

 "Not bad," said Jellia, lifting cover after cover from the silver serving

  dishes. "Not bad at all! Give us a hand, Wanny, and we'll pull the table

  over to the fire. My gooseness, this is almost as good as a party!"

 Seating herself next to Dorothy, who already was busy, Jellia bit

  rapturously into a crisp roll. "Mmmm, mmm! This is the first food I've

  tasted since we left the Emerald City. Draw up, Liony! This roast lamb will

  make you forget that wind pudding. You may have $$all&& the roast, and

  we'll manage with the vegetables, the soup, salad and dessert!"

 Dusk was falling, and the tower room was hardly cheerful, but sitting on

  their hard benches close to the fire, the prisoners dined almost as well as

  though they had been in the Emerald City. Now that his hunger was

  satisfied, even the Soldier with Green Whiskers began to look less

  desperate. The Scarecrow, now completely dry though a little wrinkled, was

  his old, witty self again.

 As it grew darker, Jellia lit the rusty lantern on the stone mantel, and

  Wantowin placed another log on the fire. There was a heap of blankets on

  one of the benches. No other beds being visible, the girls spread several

  on the hearth. Resting their backs comfortably against the sleeping lion,

  they conversed in low and guarded whispers. Wantowin, considering it his

  duty to stand guard, dragged a bench across the doorway. Wrapping himself

  up in a blanket, he was soon snoring louder than the Cowardly Lion. The

  servant had removed the tray, and sounds from below had long since ceased.

  They knew it must be way past midnight, but Dorothy and Jellia were unable

  to relax.

 "I wonder how the Wizard's getting along!" mused Dorothy, pulling the

  blanket a little closer. "It must be awfully dark in that forest."

 "Oh, Wiz'll be all right, depend on that!" Jellia spoke with a heartiness

  she was far from feeling. "He'll have that Princess here before sun-up. If

  he doesn't, we'll just light out and find him!"

 "Light out?" inquired the Scarecrow, drawing back still further from the

  fire. "How do you mean?"

 "Yes," echoed Dorothy, moving closer to Jellia as a board creaked somewhere

  below. "How do you mean?"

 "Oh, I don't just know," admitted Jellia frankly. "But there might be

  something in this kit-bag to help! Let's have a look, anyway." Dragging it

  from under a bench where she had stowed it on their arrival, Jellia zipped

  it open and began feeling inside, curiously. "I never have had a chance to

  examine it properly," Jellia said. "But that cheer gas certainly came in

  handy, and the freezing fluid and sapling seeds were pretty neat, too! My,

  whatever are these, now?" Folded neatly on the very top were four suits of

  blue pajamas with hoods and feet attached like those in an infant's

  sleeping garment.

 Holding one near to the blaze so she could read the pink placard on the

  pocket, Jellia gave a little gasp. "Oh, listen!" she whispered, catching

  Dorothy's sleeve. "It says: $$`These falling-out suits have not been

  tested, but I believe they will work and prove safe and practical in case

  of accident. C4 WIZ.'&&FF20"

 "I suppose the Wizard meant them for his Ozoplane passengers to use instead

  of parachutes," decided Dorothy, fingering one rather doubtfully. "Well, I

  should hate to be the $$first&& to try one!"

 "Oh, I don't know," Jellia, her head on one side, pensively considered the

  blue pajamas. "I think they're real cute. I think C4 HARK! What was that?"

  Dropping the pajamas, she clutched Dorothy as the unmistakable tread of a

  heavy boot came stamping up the stair.

 "Bustabo!" shivered Dorothy. "Oh, he's not going to wait till morning! He's

  coming for us now! Oh, Jellia, JELLIA, what shall we DO?" Dorothy's voice,

  rising almost to a shriek, roused the Cowardly Lion. Cocking one ear and

  arriving at exactly the same conclusion as the little girl, the lion sprang

  over to waken the Soldier with Green Whiskers. The Scarecrow already was

  hurrying from window to window, trying the bars with his flimsy cotton

  fingers. At the window nearest the fireplace he gave a joyful little grunt,

  for some former prisoner had managed to saw through three of the iron bars.

  As the Scarecrow pushed, they moved creakily outward.

 "Quick! Come help me!" urged the Scarecrow, dragging the terrified and only

  half-awake Soldier to the window. "On with those parachute suits, girls!

  We'll jump before we're tossed out!" Dorothy and Jellia exchanged desperate

  glances and then C4 as the steps on the stair thumped louder and nearer

 C4 each grabbed a falling-out suit and zipped herself tidily inside.

 "Here!" panted Jellia, down on her hands and knees beside the Cowardly Lion.

  "You can put your front feet in anyway, and $$anything&& will be better

  than $$nothing&& when you fall!" To her relief and surprise, she discovered

  that the pajamas would stretch! Even the lion could wear them without too

  much discomfort. Except for a cramp in his tail, which was coiled tightly

  on his back, the lion fitted into his pajamas nicely.

 As the Soldier with Green Whiskers was trembling too violently to help

  himself or anyone else, Jellia jerked and pushed him into one of the

  falling-out suits. Then, picking up the Wizard's kit-bag and looking

  solemnly back at her anxious comrades, Jellia climbed to the window sill.

  "I'll go first," she announced, closing her mouth to keep her teeth from

  chattering.

 "No! Let me! I insist on going first," cried the Scarecrow, springing nimbly

  up beside Jellia. "Falling does not hurt me at all."

 "Oh, hurry! Hurry!" begged Dorothy, glancing fearfully over her shoulder.

  The footsteps were now so loud and near, she expected the door to burst

  right open and Bustabo's red face to appear.

 "Goodbye! I'm off!" Before the Scarecrow could stop her, Jellia was off

  indeed! Clutching the kit-bag to her bosom, she squeezed through the

  opening between the bars and dove headlong into space! Next, the Scarecrow,

  with a sad little wave to Dorothy, dropped out of sight. "Help me push this

  so-called Soldier out!" puffed Dorothy as the Cowardly Lion signalled for

  her to go next. "If we leave him till last, he'll never jump at all!"

 "Halt! About face! Help! Mama! Papa! Help! Help! HELP!" wailed Wantowin

  Battles. But Dorothy relentlessly forced him to the sill and through the op

 ening. As his wildly thrashing legs disappeared over the edge, whoever was

  coming up the stairs broke into a run. Thump, thump, THUMPETY-THUMP!

  Trembling in every muscle, Dorothy climbed to the sill. Spreading both

  arms, she launched herself into the air.

 She heard the grunt of the Cowardly Lion as he forced his way through the

  opening. Then the fierce rush of wind past her ears as she pitched downward

  drowned out all other sounds. At first she was sure the Wizard's

  falling-out suits were failures, for the lion plunged past her, falling

  like a plummet. She, too, was whirling downward so fast she felt sure she

  would be crushed on the rocks below. Closing her eyes, she tried to resign

  herself to whatever was coming. Then, suddenly, the pajamas filled with

  air, ballooning out till she floated lightly as a feather. The question now

  was, would she $$ever&& come down?

 There was no moon, and in the faint starlight she could make out three other

  bulky shapes spinning through the air just beneath her. By kicking her legs

  and flapping her arms, Dorothy managed to miss several jutting rocks and

  tree limbs. As she floated lower, the suit began gradually to deflate,

  finally letting her down as softly as could be, on a strip of sand at the

  base of the mountain. A little distance away she could see Jellia, already

  stepping out of her falling-out suit, and the Cowardly Lion, waiting

  impatiently for someone to help him out of his. Wantowin Battles, very

  brave now that the danger was past, already had stripped off his flying

  suit and was shaking and patting the Scarecrow into shape, for the poor

  straw man had been completely flattened out by his fall.

 "Well, how did you like it?" called Jellia, hurrying over to help the lion

  untangle himself. "After the first swoop, it wasn't bad at all. Really, I

  quite enjoyed it!"

 "$$Enjoyed it!&&" choked the Lion, looking indignantly from Dorothy to

  Jellia. "I'll never set foot in a plane again as long as I live. Brrrah!

  Ever since we left the Emerald City we've been falling, flying and blowing

  about like yesterday's papers. Now that I'm on solid ground at last, I

  intend to stay there! The rest of you may do as you please, but I shall

  walk home if it takes a year!"

 "I don't blame you," said Jellia, patting the lion soothingly on the nose.

  "But we can't start without the Wizard. We'll have to hide here till

  morning and then try to find him."

 "Let him find us," growled the Lion, lashing his tail experimentally to see

  whether there was any wag left in it after the shameful way it had been

  cramped in the suit. "The whole trip was his idea, not mine!"

 "Oh, hush," warned Dorothy. "Someone will hear you! Ooooh! Someone has!" And

  sure enough, the faint tinkle of a bell came mysteriously through the

  gloom.

 "Mercy, do you suppose those Red Beards have started after us already?"

  cried Jellia, looking around for the kit-bag. "But how could they have come

  down the mountain as fast as we fell?"

 "They couldn't," whispered the Scarecrow, picking up the bag and handing it

  to Jellia. "But don't worry, my dears! It's probably a herd of goats or

  cattle. These mountaineers often put bells on their animals. Just keep

  still and don't move, and they won't notice us at all." Flattening

  themselves against the rocks at the foot of the mountain, the five

  adventurers waited tensely. But when a huge, shaggy shape loomed out of the

  darkness and came charging straight toward them, all five screamed and

  started to slither sideways.

 "Wait! Don't run! Don't be frightened!" begged an agitated voice. "Don't you

  know me? It's I! It's $$me!&& THE WIZARD!"

 CHAPTER 16

 ESCAPE FROM RED TOP

 As the great stag came to a sliding halt, the rays from his silver lantern

  cast a wavering light over the little group crouched against the rocks.

 "Hello! How ever did you escape from the castle?" demanded Ozma's little

  Magician, sliding recklessly off the high back of his steed and embracing

  them jubilantly. "We were just coming to help you. Girls, Scarecrow,

  Soldier, Lion, may I present Azarine, the real Princess of this Mountain,

  and Shagomar and Dear Deer, her friends!"

 Dorothy and Jellia were so stunned by the unexpected appearance of the

  Wizard, they were able only to manage a couple of breathless bows. And

  indeed, the lovely picture Azarine made seated demurely on the huge red

  stag was enough to render anyone speechless. Shaggy himself was

  breathtaking, too. Not only the lantern and bell hung from his antlers now,

  but perched unconcernedly on the tallest prong was a lovely white pigeon

  with a key in his bill.

 "This pigeon was going to fly up to the tower with the key to the door,"

  explained the Wizard as his five comrades continued to gaze at him in

  stupefied silence. "Fortunately, Azarine, who was imprisoned there before

  you, had an extra key. She said Bustabo would lock you up in the tower!"

  exclaimed the Wizard with a nod at the Princess. "But since you already are

  out and down, we'll not need the key. Tell me, how did you manage to

  escape? What did you do? Break down the door?"

 "No, we just stepped out the window," the Scarecrow told him with a

  nonchalant wave upward.

 "You mean you jumped all this distance?" gasped Azarine, leaning forward to

  peer between Shaggy's branching antlers while Dear Deer trotted closer to

  nudge Dorothy with her soft, moist nose.

 "Well, sort of," explained Jellia, putting an arm around the Cowardly Lion,

  who still was looking extremely sulky. "But first we put on those

  falling-out suits, Wiz, and you'll be glad to know they really worked."

 "Splendid! $$Splendid!&&" beamed the Wizard with a satisfied shake of his

  head. "You know, I'd completely forgotten them, but I felt sure you'd find

  some useful magic in the kit. Did Bustabo keep his promises?"

 "Well, he locked us up in the tower, and he gave us a pretty good supper,"

  answered Dorothy. "But we didn't like being prisoners, and we didn't feel

  safe in that castle. Then a little while ago when we heard him thumping up

  the stair, we just decided to leave! And so C4 we left!"

 "So we see! So we see!" The Wizard grinned appreciatively, delighted by the

  spirit of the two girls. "But perhaps we'd better be off! No knowing when

  Bustabo and his Bowmen will be coming to look for you. Shagomar and Dear

  Deer have kindly agreed to carry us to the castle of Glinda the Good. Once

  there, with Glinda's magic to help me I'll find some way to deal with Strut

  and to force Bustabo to give up Azarine's throne. Now suppose you two girls

  and the Scarecrow mount Dear Deer, and the Soldier and I will ride with the

  Princess."

 Dear Deer, at the Wizard's words, moved over to a flat rock. Without any

  trouble at all, Jellia and Dorothy climbed to places on her back. Then the

  Scarecrow vaulted up behind, clasping his arms 'round Jellia to keep from

  slipping off. When Wantowin and the Wizard had mounted behind Azarine, the

  two Deer swung away from the mountain. With the Cowardly Lion loping easily

  between, they ran swiftly toward the Southlands.

 Their gait was so smooth it seemed to Jellia they were flying like figures

  in a dream through the shadowy forest, with only the twinkle of the silver

  lantern to light their way. As they raced along, Azarine again told the

  story of Bustabo's treachery and how Shagomar had brought the Wizard to her

  hidden cave. Then the two girls amused the little Princess with the story

  of their experiences in the Strat. They told her all about their life at

  home in the Emerald City, and of the curious celebrities who lived in the

  palace with Ozma. Azarine already was charmed with the Scarecrow and the

  Cowardly Lion, and kept leaning down to have a better look at the tawny

  beast trotting so unconcernedly between the two deer.

 "I tell you," she proposed generously. "I tell you, if Strut destroys the

  Emerald City you all can come back and live with me. That is, if Glinda and

  the Wizard can make Bustabo give my castle and Kingdom back."

 "But I do hope we'll find some way to stop Strut! How long will it take him

  to reach the capitol?" Dorothy called across to the Wizard.

 "Well, it took us a night and half a day to fly to Stratovania," calculated

  the little Magician, wrinkling his forehead. "So I'm afraid if Strut and

  the Tin Woodman left yesterday, they'll be in the Emerald City tomorrow.

  That is, today."

 "And it's almost morning now," shivered Jellia, glancing off toward the

  East, where the sky already showed the first streaks of lavender and rose.

 "Now don't you worry," begged the Wizard, holding fast to his high hat. "As

  soon as we reach Glinda's castle and I have some proper magic to work with,

  I'll find a way to make both Strut and Bustabo behave. The few trifles in

  this kit-bag are a help, but not nearly so powerful enough for rascals like

  those. Look, girls, isn't that Glinda's castle now?"

 "Oh, it is! It is!" cried Dorothy, clasping Dear Deer around the neck, she

  was so relieved and happy. And the silver-trimmed towers and spires of

  Glinda's lovely red castle shimmering through the early-morning mists were

  enough to make anyone happy. Flashing through the beautiful gardens and

  parks, leaping hedges and flower beds as lightly as swallows, the stag and

  his mate brought the little band of adventurers to the very door of the

  castle.

 "Goodbye now," breathed the stag as the Wizard and Soldier slipped off his

  back and the Wizard lifted Azarine down. "Take care of my little Princess!"

 "Oh, don't go!" cried Dorothy, for Dear Deer seemed on the point of

  vanishing, too. "Do stay and see how it all turns out. Later on, wouldn't

  you like to go to the Emerald City and meet the famous animals who live in

  the capitol?" Shagomar looked questioningly at Dear Deer, and as his pretty

  little wife seemed interested, he allowed himself to be persuaded.

 "We'll wait in the garden," he whistled softly. "Houses and castles are too

  stuffy and shut in for Deer people. If you need me, Princess, just ring the

  silver bell." Lowering his head so the Princess could slip the bell from

  his antlers, the stag stood looking at her solemnly.

 "I will," promised Azarine, waving her little red handkerchief as the two

  deer sprang away. They actually seemed to float off above the flowers, so

  lightly and easily did they run.

 CHAPTER 17

 THE WIZARD GETS TO WORK

 "Please announce us to your Mistress at once!" directed the Wizard to the

  sleepy little castle-maid who presently came in answer to his loud knock.

 "But Her Highness and Princess Ozma are not here!" stuttered the maid, her

  eyes popping at sight of visitors so early in the morning. "They left

  yesterday to visit Prince Tatters and Grampa in Ragbad!"

 "Ha, well," the Wizard turned to the others with a little shrug. "Looks as

  if I shall have to manage alone. A fortunate thing Ozma did not start back

  to the Emerald City. At least $$she&& will not fall into Strut's hands.

  Here, HERE! Don't shut the door!" The Wizard quickly pushed past the little

  serving maid. "Glinda will wish us to make ourselves comfortable in her

  absence. Now then, Miss, MissC4?"

 "Greta," mumbled the girl, looking bashfully at her feet.

 "Oho, a Greta to greet, eh?" chuckled the Scarecrow, taking off his hat and

  bowing to the ground. "Well, now, my dear Miss Greta, will you kindly show

  these young ladies to suitable apartments, and tell the cook to prepare

  breakfast for six."

 "Make it twelve!" growled the Cowardly Lion with a little bounce toward the

  maid. "I could eat six all by myself!"

 "Yes Sirs! Yes $$Sirs!&&" quavered Greta, running off so fast she lost one

  of her red slippers.

 "Never mind," laughed Dorothy. "Jellia and I know this castle as well as our

  own. We'll show Azarine about and have time for a short nap before

  breakfast." The hundred pretty girls who acted as Glinda's Maids-in-Waiting

  were still asleep. In fact, no one was stirring in the castle except a few

  servants. Waving briskly to the girls as they started up the marble

  stairway, the Wizard went striding toward the red study where the Sorceress

  kept all her books on witchcraft, her magic potions, her phials and

  appliances.

 The exquisite palace of Glinda, over which Azarine was exclaiming at every

  step, was an old story to the Cowardly Lion. Throwing himself down on a

  huge bearskin, he soon was in a doze and making up the sleep he had lost on

  the two previous nights. Wantowin Battles had at once gone off to waken an

  old Soldier Crony of his who drilled Glinda's Girl Guard, and the

  Scarecrow, about to follow the Wizard into the study, paused to look at the

  great record book.

 This book, fastened with golden chains to a marble table in the reception

  room of the castle, records each event as it happens in the Land of Oz.

  When Glinda goes on a journey, she usually locks the Record book and takes

  the key with her. But this time she had neglected to do so, and sentences

  were popping up, row after row on the open pages. As he bent over to peruse

  the latest entry, the Scarecrow's painted blue eyes almost popped from his

  cotton head.

 "Fierce Airlanders from the Upper Strat are descending on the Emerald City

  of Oz," read the Straw Man, nearly losing his balance. "If measures of

  defense are not taken at once, the capitol will fall under the fierce

  attack of the invaders!"

 "Wiz! YO, WIZ!" yelled the Scarecrow, taking a furious slide into the study.

  "Hurry! HURRY! For the love of Oz, hurry, or Strut will blow Ozma's castle

  into the Strat! The Record Book says so!" he panted, grabbing the Wizard's

  arm to steady himself. The Wizard, working over the delicate apparatus on a

  long table, looked up with an anxious frown.

 "Now, now, you must be a little patient," he told the Scarecrow earnestly.

  "I'm hurrying just as fast as ever I can."

 "But what do you propose to do?" demanded the Scarecrow, puckering his

  forehead into almost forty deep wrinkles. "Can't you whiz these

  Stratovanians away or send them back where they came from?"

 "Not without Ozma's magic belt," sighed the Wizard. "And you know perfectly

  well that the belt is back in the Emerald City safe in the castle!"

 "Then can't you transport the safe here?" asked the Scarecrow, playing a

  frantic little tune on the edge of the table.

 "Just what I'm trying to do!" admitted the Wizard, turning a lever here and

  a wheel there. "But this triple-edged, zentomatic transporter of Glinda's

  does not seem to be working as it should. I'll probably be able to fix it

  in a little while, but meantime I tell you what you can do. Post yourself

  beside the record book, and the minute it announces Strut's arrival in the

  Emerald City, rush straight back here to me!"

 Before he had finished his sentence, the Scarecrow was gone, and for the

  next two hours the faithful Straw Man, without once lifting his eyes, bent

  over the great book of records, reading with tense interest and lively

  appreciation of the progress of the Oztober and the Airlanders toward the

  Capitol of Oz.

 CHAPTER 18

 STRUT OF THE STRAT ARRIVES IN OZ!

 For several hours after leaving Stratovania, Nick followed the Wizard's map

  implicitly. With Strut leaning over the back of his seat, eyes glued to

  both map and board, there was nothing else he could do. If he deviated from

  the course so much as a hair's breadth, the Airlander would tap him on his

  tin head with his staff. The Tin Woodman had not expected Strut to be so

  clever about navigating, and as time passed he grew less and less hopeful

  of outwitting the wily Airman.

 If he increased the speed of the Oztober in an effort to outdistance Strut's

  flying warriors, they also increased their speed. Try as he would, it

  seemed quite impossible to lose them. But Nick Chopper did not despair. He

  was counting on the night to help him. Never tiring or needing sleep, he

  would have the advantage of Strut then. As soon as the Airlander relaxed in

  his seat, the Tin Woodman meant to fall upon him, hurl him from a window,

  put all the plane's lights out, and speed off in the dark so swiftly the

  Stratovanians would be unable to follow. That failing, he depended on the

  difference in altitude to subdue the enemy. Perhaps when they reached the

  lower areas, Strut and his Airmen would faint, wilt, and become harmless.

 So, bolstering his spirits with these heartening hopes, Nick bore as

  patiently as he could the long afternoon and the unpleasant taunts and

  company of his captor. Repassing the ice crescent without meeting any

  Spikers, the Tin Woodman zoomed along, not even bothering to answer Strut's

  many questions about Oz and its inhabitants.

 Night, when it did come, was especially dark and murky. No moon and only a

  few stars dotted the arching Skyway. The darker the better, rejoiced the

  Tin Woodman, taking quick little glances over his shoulder to see whether

  Strut was falling asleep or showing any signs of drowsiness. If it were

  just dark enough, he'd rid himself of these flying pests in a hurry. But

  all his plans proved futile. As the Oztober rushed on and on and the hours

  dragged slowly by, Strut grew even more alert and watchful. His star-shaped

  eyes twinkled and glowed with sulphurous lights, and he showed no more

  signs of weariness than the Tin Woodman himself.

 The endurance of the Airlander and his warriors was positively uncanny, and

  Nick, maneuvering the buttons and wheel of the plane, grew increasingly

  discouraged and gloomy. Flying at this rate, they would arrive in the

  Emerald City early in the morning, and to think that he was leading this

  band of savages upon the defenseless City almost broke Nick Chopper's

  heart. As it was a red plush heart, it could not really break, but it

  fluttered up and down in his tin bosom like a bird beating against the bars

  of a cage. To Nick's suggestion that he rest, Strut gave a contemptuous

  glance.

 "I'll rest in Ohsma's palace," he sneered maliciously. "D'ye think I trust

  you enough to sleep? Ho no! Just attend to your flying, Mr. Funnel Top, and

  I'll take care of the rest of this little adventure." After this, Nick made

  no further remarks, and morning found the Oztober sailing high above the

  Hammerhead Mountains in the Quadling Country of Oz. All too soon the Tin

  Woodman made out the glittering green turrets and spires of the Emerald

  City itself.

 "Quite a pretty little town," observed Strut condescendingly as Nick, his

  thoughts in a perfect tumult, tried to think of some excuse for not

  landing.

 "Why are you not flying over the castle?" demanded Strut sharply. "It's the

  castle I am most anxious to reach. There, you can come down right inside

  the walls. My, My! So this is the wonderful Land of OHS. Well, it owes me

  its crown jewels and treasure to pay for your insolent invasion of the

  Strat. Collecting them should prove pleasant! Very pleasant indeed!"

 "I wouldn't be too sure of that," snapped Nick, turning his head stiffly. "I

  suppose you realize you are in great danger. If Ozma sees you before you

  have time to storm the castle, you and your silly flock of flyers are

  likely to be turned to crows and sparrows! The chances are, she HAS seen

  you," concluded Nick, slanting the Oztober sharply downward. At Nick's

  warning, the few clouds flitting across the Airman's forehead became

  positively thunderous.

 "Pouf!" he sniffed, snapping his fingers scornfully. "Do you suppose a mere

  girl like this Ohsma of Ohs can frighten me? My Blowmen will soon attend to

  her and anyone else who stands in our way!"

 "That," shouted Nick, raising his voice above the roar of the engine,

  "remains to be seen!" As a matter of fact, the Oztober and the swarm of

  flying warriors had been sighted almost as soon as they appeared above the

  green lands edging the capitol. Long before they reached the Emerald City

  itself, terrified messengers had brought word of the approaching airmen.

  Ozma being absent, Bettsy and Trot, the two little mortal girls who lived

  with Dorothy and the Supreme Ruler in the Emerald Palace, were in charge.

 After one glance at the flying army, they had called all the celebrities,

  servants and courtiers together and bade them flee for their lives. Then

  Bettsy, Trot, and the Patchwork Girl climbed into the Red Wagon. With the

  Saw Horse to pull them, they set off at a gallop to hide in the Blue

  Forests of the Munchkin Country till the invasion was over. Tik Tok, the

  Machine Man, carrying all of Ozma's loose jewels and valuables, marched

  rapidly after them. The Medicine Man rode the Hungry Tiger, and the rest of

  the palace inmates ran helter-skelter down the yellow brick highway from

  the Capitol.

 The inhabitants of the Emerald City itself, never having seen the Wizard's

  Ozoplanes and having no way of knowing that Nick Chopper was inside this

  one, were almost as afraid of the Oztober as of the Stratovanians. Pelting

  into their houses and shops, they bolted windows and doors and waited in

  terror-stricken silence for whatever was to come. Only the Guardian of the

  Gate stayed bravely at his post, waving his bunch of keys defiantly as the

  Ozoplane and the Airlanders swooped over the castle wall.

 "Ho! No you don't!" cried Strut as Nick, having brought the plane to a

  landing, started to run for the door. "You'll stay with me as a hostage!"

  he rasped, gripping the Tin Woodman's arm. Furious but helpless in the iron

  grasp of the Stratovanian, Nick was forced to lead him into Ozma's

  beautiful castle.

 Strut's warriors, after fluttering like curious birds from tree to tree and

  alighting in chattering groups on the wall, finally furled the wings of

  their staffs, formed ranks and marched, singing and shouting, up the steps

  after their jubilant leader.

 In vain Nick sought for any signs of weakening among them. The Airmen seemed

  as comfortable and carefree in this lower altitude as they had been on

  their own airosphere. The Tin Woodman's only consolation was that he had

  brought back the Wizard's Ozoplane in as good condition as when it had

  started away so unexpectedly. It was also a great relief to him to find the

  castle deserted. Not a courtier, servant or celebrity was in sight C4 not

  even the Glass Cat or Dorothy's little kitten, Eureka. Strut and his rude

  army stamped through the first floor from end to end without encountering a

  single soul.

 "Very good," sniffed the Ruler of all the Stratovanians, shooting his eyes

  sharply to left and right, "so this powerful fairy Ohsma of Ohs has run off

  and left us her castle, and we win the war without blowing a blow! Ho, Ho!

  I shall spend my summers in this enchanting palace," he added with a

  malicious wink at the Tin Woodman. "But now," his grasp on Nick's arm

  tightened, "where are these famous magic treasures and jewels you were

  boasting of, this belt and fan and all the other foolishments and

  fripperies?"

 "In a safe in Ozma's own apartment," Nick told him reluctantly. Now that

  Strut was in complete possession of the castle, little was to be gained by

  concealing the location of the treasures.

 "Take me there at once," commanded Strut, and because the thousand

  Airlanders were a bit too numerous for comfort, Strut ordered them out to

  the garden, bidding them man the walls, guard the gates and all entrances,

  and give the alarm should any of the Ozlanders approach. Then, with lowered

  head and dragging feet, the Tin Woodman led the way to Ozma's private

  sitting room. The safe, sparkling with emeralds embedded in metal more

  valuable than platinum, stood in an alcove behind a pair of silk curtains.

  Giving little heed to the elegant appointments of the apartment itself,

  Strut knelt before the safe, fairly panting with impatience and curiosity.

 "How does it open?" he asked, spinning the little knob on the door round and

  round without any results whatsoever.

 "I am sure I cannot say." Resting one elbow on the golden mantel, the Tin

  Woodman looked indifferently at the kneeling Airman. "Only Ozma and our

  Wizard ever open that safe."

 "Oh, is that so!" Strut straightened up angrily. "We shall see about that.

  All I have to do is call one of my Blowmen and BLOW it open."

 "Suit yourself," said Nick with a shrug of his shoulders. "Only if you do,

  the safe probably will blow away, and all the treasures with it!"

 "Then how in the Dix shall I open it?" screamed Strut, giving it a spiteful

  kick with his silver-shod toe. Worn out by his long vigil of the night and

  the excitement of taking possession of the castle, he lost his temper

  completely and stamped and raged up and down before Ozma's jeweled

  strongbox. But thump and bang at the door as he would, it still remained

  shut. "Ha!" he puffed at last. "I'll call my swordsmith! He can hammer it

  open!" Racing over to the window, he yelled for the Swordsmith to come up.

 But Strut's Swordsmith had no more success than his Master. Kindling a fire

  in the grate, he heated a poker red hot and tried to burn a hole in the

  door, but the poker did not leave even a scratch on the glittering surface.

  "Stop! Stop! You witless Woff. I'll do it myself," raged Strut. "I'll blow

  it open with star powder!"

 "Surely you wouldn't do that," protested Nick, who up to this time had been

  watching the effort of the two airmen with quiet amusement. "If you blow up

  the safe, you might set fire to the castle and destroy all the treasures

  you have won."

 "Oh, hold your tongue!" advised Strut. Dragging two smouldering logs from

  the grate, he shoved them under the safe. Then, unscrewing the end of his

  flying stick, he sprinkled a fine, black powder that smelled and looked

  like gunpowder, over the logs. Lighting a twisted paper, he stuck it

  beneath the logs and jumped back, waiting impatiently for the safe to fly

  apart.

 Nick Chopper waited not a moment longer. Darting into the dressing room, he

  hastily filled a pitcher with water. But before he could return, an

  ear-splitting explosion rocked the castle and flung him and the pitcher

  through the doorway of the sitting room.

 Without stopping to recover his breath, the Tin Woodman jumped up and

  hurried across the room. The two airmen, with blackened clothes and faces,

  stared dazedly at the spot where the safe had been. $$Where it had been&&

 C4 because the safe was no longer there! Not a sign, emerald or single

  splinter of it! There was no hole in the ceiling, so it could not have

  blown up; there was no hole in the floor, so it could not have blown down.

  The windows were unbroken, the walls intact. Only the two logs, smoking

  sullenly on Ozma's priceless rug, remained of the Airlander's bonfire C4

  unless we count the expression on Strut's face, which simply blazed with

  wrath, bafflement and unadulterated fury.

 CHAPTER 19

 THE TRAVELERS RETURN!

 "I told you not to do that," said Nick, running over to Strut and the

  Swordsmith. "I warned you! Now see what you've done!"

 "But where is it? Where did it go? Where did it BLOW?" screamed the

  Airlander, his electric hair standing more on end than ever and crackling

  like summer lightning.

 "Ask Ozma! Ask the Wizard!" suggested Nick, folding his arms and surveying

  the two quite calmly. "But if you take my advice, you'll hustle right out

  of this castle before the same thing happens to YOU!"

 "Who asked for your advice?" cried Strut, streaking over to the window to

  see whether the safe had blown into the garden, though how it could have

  done so without knocking a hole in the wall or ceiling he could neither

  imagine nor understand. Drawing aside the curtain, he gave a great gasp.

  Nick, who had hurried after him, uttered a loud shout of joy.

 "See! I told you!" cried Nick, and unhooking his oil can, the Tin Woodman

  let four drops of oil slide down his neck. "I told you!" Strut made no

  reply. He just hung on to the curtain as if he were drowning and the flimsy

  portiere a life preserver. "See!" shouted Nick again.

 But it was Strut $$didn't&& see that upset the Airman! What he $$didn't&&

  see was his entire army of nine hundred and ninety-nine splendid fighters!

  The garden below was as empty and quiet as a park on a rainy Sunday. "Calm

  yourself, Man! Calm yourself!" advised Nick as Strut, turning from the

  window and noting the disappearance of his Swordsmith, began running in

  frenzied circles, overturning chairs and tables and tripping over rugs and

  footstools.

 "Quick," he hissed, making a dive for the Tin Woodman. "Fly me back to the

  Strat. At once! At ONCE! Do you hear?"

 "Oh, yes! I hear you quite well!" said Nick, eluding Strut easily. "But I'll

  never fly you anywhere again! Besides, don't you realize you cannot fly

  from magic? You'll have to stay, my good man, and face the music!"

 Nick's words seemed to bring the Airlander to his senses. Remembering, even

  in defeat, that he was a powerful King and Ruler, he straightened up

  proudly and, with one hand resting on an emerald-topped table, stood

  looking tensely from Nick Chopper to the door. He did not have long to

  wait, for in less time than it takes to count ten, nine excited Ozians

  burst into the Royal Sitting room.

 "Oh, Nick! Are you really safe? Is everything all right?" Jellia Jam rushed

  over to the Tin Woodman and took both of his hands in her own.

 "So $$that's&& the fellow I was supposed to impersonate!" roared the

  Cowardly Lion, thrusting his head between Dorothy and the Soldier. "Well,

  Goosengravy, girls, I'm insulted!"

 "And $$is&& this really Strut, the high and mighty Stratovanian who has come

  to conquer us?" Ozma, who was just behind the Soldier, gazed so steadily

  and sorrowfully at the Airman that he uncomfortably averted his gaze. He

  was, to tell the truth, astonished at the youth, beauty and regal manner of

  the young Fairy. He cast a questioning look at the others crowding through

  the doorway. He already knew the Soldier with Green Whiskers, but the

  Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, the small, High-Hatted gentleman talking

  earnestly to a cheerful little girl, the little, red-cloaked Princess and

  the tall, imposing red-haired Glinda were all new and bewildering

  strangers. For the first time since they had met, Nick felt sorry for his

  discomfited foe, and as each of the celebrities approached, he called out

  the names.

 "Our famous live Scarecrow, His Majesty the20Cowardly Lion, Glinda the Good

  Sorceress, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Princess Dorothy of Kansas and the

  Emerald City andFF20C4"

 "Azarine the Red," finished Dorothy, helping him out. For Nick, completely

  at sea, looked inquiringly at the pretty little Princess in the red cloak.

  At each introduction Strut bowed stiffly. If he could have reached his

  flying stick, which he had left standing beside the mantel, he would have

  flown out of the window, regardless of the fact that he might never find

  his way back to the Strat. But as he could not reach the staff, he stood

  stonily waiting for whatever was to befall.

 "How'd you find Jellia and the Soldier? What became of the Ozpril? Where's

  the Emerald safe?" questioned Nick, leaving Strut's side and hurrying to

  seize the little Wizard by both lapels, for he could restrain his curiosity

  no longer.

 "Quite a story, quite a story," puffed the Wizard, closing one eye. "Ask me

  again some long winter evening." Jerking away from Nick, he ran off to

  fetch his black bag of magic, from which he had been separated far too

  long.

 "I suppose you are quite anxious to return to your own country," said Ozma,

  addressing herself to the Ruler of the Strat as she seated herself on a

  small satin sofa.

 "Not without my army," blustered Strat defiantly. "It is neither fair nor

  honest for one ruler to destroy by magic the fighting forces of another!"

 "Your army is not destroyed," Ozma told him evenly. "It already is in

  Stratovania, transported there by this magic belt." Lightly, the

  dark-haired fairy touched the gem-studded girdle she was wearing. "And

  speaking of honesty and fairness," she went on seriously, "did you think it

  honest or fair to come here, take possession of my castle and try to steal

  all my treasure and jewels?" Strut had the grace to blush, and as there was

  no good answer to Ozma's question, he looked haughtily over the heads of

  the company regarding him so accusingly.

 "Well, have you anything to say?" inquired Ozma sternly. "Whether or not you

  return to your Kingdom depends entirely upon yourself and how you treat

  Kabebe." At mention of his Queen, Strut started involuntarily.

 "By the way, here's that silly crown you made me wear!" said Jellia, handing

  over the star-tipped circlet she had been wearing since her visit to the

  Strat. "Remember me to the Piper when you see him, and to Junnenrump and

  Hippenscop."

 "Are you sure you'd rather not live in the Strat as a Starina than stay here

  with us?" asked Ozma, smiling mischievously as Jellia backed away from the

  frowning airman.

 "Never! Never! NEVER!" cried Jellia, taking a long step backward at each

  word. "I've had enough of Kings to last me the rest of my life!"

 A little ripple of laughter followed Jellia's blunt refusal, and taking pity

  on the mortified Airlander, Ozma touched her belt and whispered the magic

  word that would transport him to his own country.

 "But can you trust him?" worried Nick Chopper as the Stratovanian vanished

  before their eyes. "How do you know he won't blow things up as soon as he

  returns?"

 "Because I've removed all power from his Blowmen's horns," Ozma told him

  quietly. "He'll be all right, and for the kind of people he rules Strut

  probably is the best sort of ruler they could have."

 "If you ask me," observed the Cowardly Lion, shaking his mane vigorously,

  "the worst punishment anyone could have would be to live on wind pudding

  and air-ade. Wooof!"

 "Oh, what a shame!" Dorothy ran over to the mantel where the flying stick

  had been standing. "The winged staff's gone! I rather had hoped we could

  keep it for Hallowe'en or New Year's or something!"

 "Haven't you had enough flying?" grinned the Scarecrow, settling on the

  green sofa beside Ozma. "By the way, where's the tell-all-escope?"

 "Oh, I'm so sorry," Dorothy felt ruefully in the pocket of her coat. "I must

  have left it in Strut's Royal Pavilion!"

 "Never mind! I'll bring it back with the magic belt," smiled Ozma, "and I

  presume it's all right to bring the safe back, too." As Glinda nodded in

  agreement, the Ruler of Oz touched her belt twice, and with two thumps C4

  one louder than the other C4 the safe and tell-all-escope thumped down on

  the floor beside the sofa. The tell-all-escope was pointing directly at

  Ozma, and it immediately began broadcasting her whole history. So the

  little Fairy, with a chuckle of amusement, locked it up in her desk drawer.

 While Ozma had been meting out her gentle justice, Jellia had been telling

  Nick all that had happened since he was forced to fly Strut to Oz. She told

  him of the arrival of the Ozpril, the escape of the whole party from the

  angry Kabebe, their fall to Red Top Mountain, their rude treatment by

  Bustabo, their meeting with Azarine and the red Deer, and their final

  journey to Glinda's castle.

 Spellbound, Nick learned how the Wizard finally had mastered the intricacies

  of Glinda's zentomatic transporter and brought the safe to her red castle

  just as Strut was on the point of taking violent measures. With the safe in

  his possession, it had been an easy matter for the Wizard to transport both

  Glinda and Ozma from Ragbad. After listening to the whole exciting story,

  Glinda, Ozma and the Wizard had sent the Stratovanian army back to the

  Strat and returned to the Emerald City to deal with Strut personally.

 "It's certainly handy to have a Fairy around," sighed Dorothy, slipping an

  arm around Ozma's slim waist. "One little wave of Ozma's wand and we soared

  right into this castle! Isn't it grand to be home again? Not that I didn't

  enjoy the trip," she added hastily as the Wizard came briskly into the room

  with his black bag. "Oh, Ozma! Just wait till you see the beautiful

  Ozoplanes our Wizard has built for you!"

 "She'll need pretty strong glasses to see the Ozpril," observed the Wizard,

  looking rather sadly at the ceiling. "I expect it's hanging to the tip of a

  star by this time! And I suppose Strut made hash of the Oztober!"

 "Hash!" sputtered Nick Chopper indignantly. "I should say NOT. I've taken

  splendid care of your ship, Wiz, and you'll find the Oztober below in the

  garden as bright and beautiful as the night she was launched!"

 "Hurray for Nick," shouted Jellia, waving the duster she already was

  flipping briskly over pictures and books. "He should have a medal, your

  Majesty! No one could have flown that Plane better than the Tin Woodman!"

 "He $$shall&& have a medal!" promised Ozma with a special smile for Nick

  Chopper, who was one of her special favorites. "And when he needs a

  vacation from the Winkies, he can come here and be our official Pilot

  answerable only to me and to the Wizard!"

 "And I hereby present your Majesty with my two splendid Ozoplanes C4 for

  exploring, for pleasure, or for warfare!" announced the little Wizard,

  extending both arms dramatically. "But now you will have to excuse me, as

  the Tin Woodman and I are leaving at once!"

 "Leaving!" wailed Jellia, plumping down on a footstool. "But you've only

  just returned!"

 "Can't help it," panted the Wizard, who seemed in a perfect phiz to be off.

  "I'll show you the Ozoplanes later, Ozma, but now Goodbye! Goodbye,

  Dorothy! Goodbye, Jellia! Take good care of Azarine till I return!"

 "But look, where are we going?" demanded Nick Chopper as the Wizard seized

  his arm and marched him rapidly toward the door.

 "To find the Ozpril, of course!" explained the Wizard impatiently, as if

  that should have been clear to everybody! "To find the Ozpril and bring her

  back to the Emerald City!"

 "But think how high those Blowmen may have blown it," worried Dorothy. "They

  may even have blown it to Bitz!"

 "Then we'll bring back the pieces," declared the Wizard firmly. "How about

  coming along?" With a wink at Jellia Jam, he paused beside the Lion, who

  was busy licking his front paws.

 "WHAT?" roared the Lion, springing up as if someone had shot him. With a

  thoroughly indignant glance at Ozma's little magician, he bolted through

  the curtains and was gone.

 "Just $$not&& a flyer!" mused the Wizard, shaking his head in amusement.

  "Well, goodbye, Friends! Farewell, all!" With an energetic nod, he stepped

  through the door, pulling Nick along with him.

 "Couldn't you bring the Ozpril back with your magic belt?" questioned

  Dorothy, hurrying over to the window to watch the plane's takeoff.

 "I suppose so," answered Ozma thoughtfully. "But they both are so fond of

  flying, they'd much rather $$bring&& it back themselves! I'm sure of it!"

 CHAPTER 20

 AZARINE IS RESTORED TO RED TOP

 >From the castle window, the whole party cheered wildly as the Ozoplane,

  roaring with power, soared over the wall, over the treetops and up, up, and

  up, till it vanished into the cloudless blue sky.

 "My pie! I do hope Nick doesn't start claiming any more countries," sighed

  Jellia, drawing in her head reluctantly. "And for cake's sake, why couldn't

  they have waited a few days? Of course, the Tin Woodman is never tired, but

  Wiz certainly needed a rest after all we've been through!"

 "Never you mind about that!" Glinda patted the kind-hearted little Jellia on

  the shoulder. "The Wizard has his black bag along this time, and in that

  bag there is a cure for almost everything C4 even lack of sleep!"

 "Look!" called Dorothy, pulling Jellia back to the window. "Shaggy and Dear

  Deer are running races round the pond, and here come all our servants and

  celebrities! Hiah, Tik Tok! Hello, Scraps! See, Azarine! That's the Patch

  Work Girl! You'll simply love her! We all do! Someone must have sent word

  that Strut had been defeated!"

 "I did. I dispatched one of my doves," explained Glinda. "And now, my dear,"

  the tall and lovely Sorceress motioned significantly to Ozma, "is it not

  time to deal with Bustabo and restore this Little Lady to her Castle?"

 "Oh, not yet! Please, not yet!" begged Dorothy as Azarine looked expectantly

  from Glinda to Ozma. "We want Azarine to stay here a long time, don't we,

  Jellia? Come on, Azzy dear, I'll lend you an old dress, and we'll all go

  for a ride before lunch! You on Shaggy, Jellia and I on Dear Deer, Bettsy

  and Trot on the Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow on the Hungry Tiger!"

 "It's all right, go ahead," Ozma nodded indulgently as the little Princess

  hung back. She did want so much to stay and meet all the interesting people

  in the garden, but she felt it her real duty to return to her subjects, now

  suffering under the cruel rule and temper of Bustabo.

 Then: "I've already turned Bustabo into a red Squirrel!" Ozma told the

  Princess gravely. "In that form he still can enjoy himself, but do no harm

  to others. I've also sent a message saying you will be home in a few days

  and placed Archibald the Archer in charge till you return!"

 "Oh, how did you know Archy is the one I trust most?" marveled Azarine, her

  eyes shining with happiness and astonishment. "Bustabo threw Archy into a

  dungeon a week ago because he tried to help me!"

 "Ozma knows everything," confided Dorothy with an adoring glance toward the

  little Ruler of all Oz. "And everything's going to be lovely! Come on,

  Azzy! I'll beat you to the fountain in the garden!"

 So now, with her last worry removed, the little Princess of Red Top skipped

  off with Dorothy to meet all the exciting celebrities in the garden. The

  two deer, alarmed by the strange appearance of some of the Ozlanders, had

  hidden themselves in a snowball bush. But Azarine soon coaxed them out, and

  in no time at all they were chatting like old friends with the Hungry Tiger

  and the Saw Horse.

 Jellia stayed in the garden only a short while, for Jellia had other things

  to do. The little Oz Maid was determined to have a party to celebrate their

  homecoming, and soon, in deep conference with the castle chef, she was

  planning the most gorgeous feast the Green Castle ever had known.

 It began at noon and lasted till nightfall. Even long after the tall candles

  had burned low, the cheery company sat around the royal table while

  Dorothy, Jellia and the Scarecrow told and retold their amazing adventures

  in the Strat and on Red Top Mountain.

 So delightful did Azarine and the two Deer find life in the capitol, they

  stayed on and on. Each evening, the girls and Ozma and her most important

  counselor would gather in her private sitting room. There, looking at the

  magic screen, they followed the progress of Nick and the Wizard as they

  flew on and on through the strange Highways and Byways of the Stratosphere.

 What a story they will have to tell us when they return. WHAT a story!

 THE END