The Red Jinn in Oz
Author: Mildred L. Palmer
Date: 1949-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Description: Written in 1949, the original manuscript was 156 double spaced pages. If this was printed in book form I haven't found it (Oct 19, 2013). However, Lulu is giving away the pdf for free. Original copies either did not survive, are in collections, or were never printed in the first place, don't know yet. However, I have seen the work in bound manuscript form with Mildred Palmer's name and address printed at the top left of the first page.
Publisher: Palmer

The Red Jinn in

By Mildred L. Palmer with illustrations by John R. Neill

Founded on and Continuing the Famous Oz Stories by L. Frank Baum and Ruth Plumly Thompson 2007

The Red Jinn in Oz Copyright © by Mildred L.

Palmer 1225 Wilmot Rd. Deerfield, Ill. 60015

All rights reserved. Second provisional edition: January 2007

The Vanitas Press

CHAPTER I
THE SCARECROW’S PARTY

“Ozma!” Dorothy ran down the palace steps. “Ozma! Where’s Ozma?” she asked Jellia Jam.

“Out in the garden, watching the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger run a race,” answered the little maid.

Dorothy ran out to the garden and threw her arms around her friend. “I have the most wonderful idea,” she announced breathlessly.

Ozma laughed, returning her hug. “Your ideas are always wonderful,” she returned warmly. “But, sit down and tell me about it.”

“Well,” began Dorothy, sitting down beside her, “all of us have birthdays and parties every year, but the Scarecrow has been here for years and years and never even had a birthday. Let’s give him’a birthday party and invite everyone.”

“That’s a good idea,” approved the Cowardly Lion, who came up just then, panting from his race. “I think he should have a party. Only it can’t very well be a birthday party because the Scarecrow wasn’t born; he was made. Perhaps you could call it a Makeday party.”

“Why, that would be splendid—a Makeday party,” laughed Ozma. “Let’s do it. Shall we have it be a surprise party?”

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Dorothy.

“Shall I invite him here?“ Dorothy shook her head. “I thought it would be nicer to have a straw-ride party in the country,” she explained.

“Hay-ride,” corrected the Lion.

“Straw-ride,” repeated Dorothy firmly. “The Scarecrow is stuffed with straw and this is his party, so it’ll have to be a straw- ride. We can fill a wagon with straw and go get the Scarecrow, and take him along to a nice straw field, and have strawberry ice cream, and…”

“And we’ll all have an ex-straw-dinarily good time,” put in the Lion helpfully. Dorothy pulled his ear reprovingly. “We’ll have cakes that look like little scarecrows,” she continued. “It’s too bad the Scarecrow can’t eat, but he’ll have fun anyway ‘cause the party is for him.”

“Of course he will,” agreed Ozma. “He’ll be very pleased that we thought of him.”

“It could be a costume party, too, and we all could dress like Scarecrows,“ proposed Dorothy eagerly.

“That would be lovely, my dear,” rumbled the Lion. “How would I look in blue bib overalls with a straw hat over one ear? Leave me out of that, please.“ The girls laughed at this. Dorothy patted his head. “You don’t have to dress,” she assured him. “Though, you would look cute…“ The Lion snorted disgustedly. “Cute!” he grumbled.

For a long time they sat and made plans for the party. But presently Ozma remarked: “It’s getting quite dark; we’d better go in now and go to bed. We can discuss this further in the morning.”

“When shall we plan to have the party?” asked the Lion, accompanying them back to the palace.

“Whenever Dorothy wants it,” returned Ozma, with a smile at her friend. Dorothy looked thoughtful. “It would be nice to have it on the same day that I found him,” she suggested, “but I don’t remember what day it was.”

“I think it was a Thursday,” said the Lion. “And tomorrow’s Thursday, so how about having it tomorrow?“ Both little girls looked at him in astonishment. “You can’t just give a party like this right away,” explained Dorothy patiently. “You have to plan for it, and decide what to do and everything!”

“It seems to me you have everything planned right now,” replied the Lion.

“However, you’ve given more parties than I have.”

“We have to wait ‘til Betsey and Trot come back from Sapphire City,” Dorothy reminded him. “They will want to come too.”

“They won’t be back for several days,” added Ozma. “So let’s have the party the first Thursday after they’re back.”

“Good; that’s settled,” sighed the Lion. “Are you going to tell everyone about the party now, or have them all be surprised?”

CHAPTER II
FALEERO PLOTS MISCHIEF

“That’s a wonderful idea!” cried Dorothy.

The Lion was astonished. “Is it really?” he asked, blinking.

“Oh, yes,” exclaimed the-little girl. “We won’t tell anyone at all. On the morning of the party we’ll give them their costumes and then tell them. That will be loads of fun.”

“Loads of fun with loads of straw,” yawned the Lion. “Run along now to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” They had reached the palace, and after an affectionate good night to the Lion, both little girls hurried to their rooms to prepare for bed.

In the middle of the night Dorothy was awakened by a blinding flash. Startled, she sat up in bed. Her first impulse was to rush out into the corridor to see what had happened; but hearing no out-cry, she yawned and lay back again. “Probably just the Wizard trying out a new invention,” she decided as she drifted off to sleep.

Deep in the heart of Follensby Forest, in the northernmost part of the Gilliken country, stood a small, mean-looking hut. Inside this but was an enormous fireplace which took up one whole side of the cabin. Over a huge fire roaring in the fireplace hung a cauldron filled to the brim with a noisome bubbling purple mixture which two old crones were stirring briskly. A thin, sly-looking man sat in the corner, while overhead a huge raven flapped in angry circles, screeching in rage as one of the old women spilled a bit of the mixture out of the kettle.

“It’s taken me years to fill that kettle,” the bird screamed. “Years of searching in every corner of Oz, and you sloop it about like a kettle of soup. Be careful!”

The old hag looked up with a toothless grin. “Don’t fret. There is enough left, and more than enough. It has been a long, difficult job, but in one minute it will be finished. And then…”

“And then,” croaked the raven, “and then I’ll have my revenge. I’ve had years to plan it, and it will be a worthy one. First, I’ll wipe Pumperdink off the face of Oz. Then, I’ll take care of Ozma. Turn me into a raven, will she? She’ll pay for it — and tomorrow I’ll be the ruler of Oz.”

The bird’s voice rose to a hoarse shriek and, at a sign from the old woman, it dived headlong into the bubbling purple cauldron.

The cauldron rocked violently, then overturned, spilling its contents onto the fire.

A cloud of purple vapor filled the room; and when it had faded a fearsome old woman, bent and wrinkled, stood in place of the raven—Faleero, fairy princess of Follensby Forest.

You remember, of course, how Faleero, enraged by the refusal of the Prince of Pumperdink to marry her, had by red and forbidden magic transformed the Royal Family of Pumperdink into logs; and with Kettywig, the King’s brother, set herself up as Ruler of Pumperdink. The Royal Family was rescued by Randy, Crown Prince of Regalia, and Kabumpo, the Elegant Elephant of Pumperdink, with the help of the Red Jinn of Ev.

To punish Faleero, Ozma had turned her into a raven. But now, restored to her rightful form, the wicked old fairy glared malignantly into the fire and muttered dire threats against Ozma.

The thin man stood and approached her nervously. “Congratulations,” he smirked.

“Our plan succeeded remarkably well, didn’t it?”

“Our plan!” shrilled Faleero, whirling to face him. “What did you have to do with it? It was my plan, Kettywig, and don’t you forget it!“ Kettywig backed away. “Of course it was your plan,” he agreed quickly. “Still, you must admit that I helped considerably, especially in planning your revenge against Ozma.”

“Helped me!” snapped the old fairy. “I don’t need your help.”

“You’ll need it at the Errierald City,” grinned Kettywig.

“Bah!” she retorted. “I haven’t even made up my mind to take you with me. You’re a poor, soft fool, Kettywig. Why should I burden myself with you?”

“Because you don’t dare go without me,” replied Kettywig calmly. “You know you can’t leave out the Wizard. He’d find you out in a minute; and who but me can take his place?”

“A fine wizard you’ll make,” jeered Faleero. “You can’t even do a simple transformation.“ Kettywig picked up the poker and prodded the fire. “Have it your own way,” he shrugged. “Don’t blame me when you fail. This time you’ll probably end up as a tree toad instead of a raven. I may not know much magic, but I do know that all four of us are necessary to make this plan a success. We have to remove Glinda, because of her Book of Records; the Wizard, because of his various magic appliances; Jellia Jam, because of her close association with Ozma; and of course, Ozma herself. Every other attempt to conquer Oz failed because of the love everyone has for their Ruler. With my plan, no one will even know that she’s gone.”

The old fairy scowled, but made no reply. Going to her cabinet, she began taking out tins, jars, bottles, and measures. In no time at all she had another kettle boiling in the fireplace, but this time the mixture was red. The two other old women came forward. One was Falingo, sister to Faleero, and the other was Dubra, Faleero’s servant.

“Are you going to destroy the Princess?” asked Falingo, plunging her spoon into the crimson mass.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” snapped Faleero. “You know very well Ozma cannot be destroyed, and if she could, I wouldn’t do it. I want her to know what is happening to her kingdom. I shall turn her into “

“Into what?”

“That’s my business!” scowled Faleero. “No one will know that but me. But she won’t be far away. Then I shall take her place and teach the people of Oz to hate and fear her very name. I’ll bring sorrow to everyone — and they’ll all think it’s their precious Ozma.”

“That’s another thing,” interrupted Kettywig. “If you behave the way you did at Pumperdink, spoiling everyone’s fun, someone will be suspicious. Ozma has always been kind to everyone, and her people love her. Any changes you make had better be gradual.”

“All right, all right,” grumbled Faleero. “I know what I’m doing.”

“What will you do to the Red Jinn?” asked Dubra. “It was his magic that restored the Royal Family of Pumperdink.”

“He’s in Ev; I can’t reach him there,” replied Faleero, “but I’ll stop at Pumperdink on my way to the Emerald City.”

“Don’t forget the Elephant this time,” jeered Kettywig.

“I’ll take care of the Elephant; I’ll take care of everyone in Pumperdink—man, woman and child. I’ll turn them all into ants, and their palace into an ant hill. And that good-for-nothing, meddling Elephant will be a beetle — a pinching bug!“ The four carefully lifted the kettle from the fire and placed it on a rickety table.

Faleero measured a spoonful of golden powder and threw it into the kettle. There was a blinding flash, a puff of red smoke, and the four wicked necromancers were gone. In their places stood a lovely, dark-haired girl; a trim little maid; a plump, bald headed, smiling man with a black bag; and a tall, stately, red-haired woman.

They eyed each other in wonder for a moment. Then with a triumphant screech, the dark-haired little princess threw up her arms and began to dance around the room. “I did it!” she exclaimed. “Look at me! Look at you! Look at Kettywig— Kettywig, wipe that silly smirk off your face.”

“You put it there. I can’t,” answered the plump little man. “I am the smiling little Wizard of Oz, and smile I must, whether you like it or not. You’d do well to look a little more pleasant yourself, Faleero. No one ever saw Ozma with an expression like that.“ Faleero stopped dancing. “They’ll see her with worse expressions than this,” she asserted grimly. “You can go around grinning like a baboon if you want, but don’t think for a moment that I will.”

She looked critically, at Falingo, who as Glinda stood tall and dignified beside the fireplace. “You’ll do,” she admitted finally.

“You know enough magic to pass as Glinda. But whatever you do, don’t let anyone see the Book of Records. That would ruin everything.“ Falingo nodded.

“How about me?” asked the little maid. “Do I look all right? And who am I? I’ve forgotten again.”

“You’re Jellia Jam!” screamed the lovely little Princess. “Jel- lia Jam, and don’t you forget it. And if you call me Faleero just once, I’ll turn you into a soup bone and feed you to the Hungry Tiger. My name is Ozma — and you’d better not forget it!”

“Well, you look like Ozma,” sniffed Falingo, “but you certainly don’t sound like her. If we fail, it will be your fault. I won’t have any trouble; all I have to do is be stately and dignified, and not let anyone see the Book of Records. But you—you’ll fly into a rage just once and spoil the whole thing.”

“Oh, I’ll be pleasant,” snapped Faleero. “I’m no fool. But only for a little while, until I learn how to use the Magic Belt. Then I’ll turn everyone who opposes me into a doormat and walk on him.”

“That’s a nice thought,” muttered Kettywig. “We ought to do a flourishing business in doormats. Why can’t you just rule the kingdom in a pleasant, kindly way and let everyone be happy? After all, you’ll be revenged on Ozma if you take her kingdom from her. There’s no reason to make everyone miserable. You have no quarrel with anyone but Ozma, have you?”

“Yes!” insisted Faleero. “I’ll not be satisfied until everyone in Oz is as miserable as I’ve been these past years. And the best part of it is that everyone will think I’m Ozma.

That’s why I want her near enough to know what’s happening. She’ll suffer as I’ve suffered, because everyone will hate her.“ Kettywig shook his head. “I don’t like this at all,” he objected. “My plan was only to conquer the Ruler of Oz and her chief assistants, and take their places… that we can do very easily. But if you persist in causing trouble, I know we won’t succeed. However there is no use trying to tell you anything.” He picked up his black bag. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

“Here!” Faleero jerked the bag from him. “If you must carry that you might as well have something in it.” She opened the cupboards and swept the contents into the bag. “This is my best magic—though what you’ll do with it, I can’t imagine.“ Kettywig took the bag. “The Wizard always carries a black bag,” he reminded her.

“And even though I don’t think we’ll get very far with this, I’m going to play my part the best I can. As for magic, I’ll leave that to you.“ Together the four conspirators left the cabin.

“We’ll stop at Pumperdink first, and then on to the Emerald City!” screamed the disguised fairy piercingly. “And then Ozma of Oz, you’ll see what happens to anyone who interferes with Faleero!“ Untying the largest of the four giant vultures that she kept for riding, Faleero climbed upon its back and sped away into the night, followed by the others.

CHAPTER III
DOROTHY’S DISCOVERY

Dorothy’s first thought upon awakening was of the Scarecrow’ party. “I wonder what he’s doing now,” she thought. “I believe I’ll look in the Magic Picture and see.” She dressed quickly, and slipped across the hall to Ozma’s room.

Her tap on the door met with no reply, but as Ozma’s dearest friend, she had always been allowed the freedom of the whole Palace, including Ozma’s private suite. Without hesitation, she opened the door and entered the room. Hurrying to the wall where the Magic Picture hung, she drew back the heavy drapes—and stood staring in amazement.

The Magic Picture was gone!

Memories of another time long ago when the Magic Picture was taken flashed through Dorothy’s mind as she stared at the empty wall. Then Ugu, the Shoemaker, had stolen all the important magic in Oz, and had kidnapped Ozma and held her prisoner until her friends rescued her. With a sob, Dorothy darted out of the room and ran down the steps to the great Throne Room. It was empty. She peeped into the dining; hall. No one was there. Rushing through the hall, she almost bumped into Jellia Jam.

“Jellia, have you seen Ozma?” she panted.

“She’s in the breakfast room, Miss,” answered Jellia nervously. “Is anything wrong?“ Dorothy shook her head and dashed into the breakfast room. There, at the head of the table, sat the little Ruler of Oz, as lovely and serene as ever. At her side was the Wizard. Both jumped up in alarm as the little girl burst in.

“Oh, Ozma!” gasped Dorothy, “I thought something had happened to you!“ Ozma and the Wizard exchanged a quick glance, and Ozma turned to Dorothy.

“What made you think so, dear?” she asked. “What has frightened you?”

“The Picture! The Magic Picture is gone!”

“How did you know that?” asked Ozma sharply. “What were you doing in my room?“ Startled at her friend’s tone, Dorothy could only’stammer helplessly. The Wizard came to her rescue. “The Magic Picture was in need of adjustment, so I have taken it into my workshop,” he said smoothly. “I think Ozma had forgotten about it.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” smiled the little fairy. “I had forgotten, and you startled me, Dorothy. I didn’t mean to sound cross.“ Reassured, Dorothy ate her breakfast and the two girls went out to the garden, the Wizard following. The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger came bounding over to say “Good morning.” Ozma jerked back involuntarily, then recovering her composure, spoke sweetly to the great beasts. Dorothy, watching her curiously, saw that she was white and trembling.

“She must not feel well,” thought the little girl. “I never thought she could get sick, but she looks positively scared and so does the Wizard.“ As the Lion and Tiger wandered off, the Wizard turned to Ozma. “Isn’t this the day we planned to visit Glinda?“ Dorothy broke in eagerly. “Oh, good! Ozma, may I go with you?“ Ozma hesitated, but the Wizard smiled at the little girl. “Of course you may, my dear.”

“I’ll get the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon,” Dorothy call back over her shoulder as she started off at a run toward the stable.

Had she known what was taking place behind her, she would have been terribly surprised.

Ozma turned on the Wizard with flashing eyes, and demanded, “Do I have to have that child tagging after me everywhere I go?”

“Watch your temper, my dear,” cautioned the Wizard. “Dorothy is your dearest friend; and you had better not forget it.”

“Well, I won’t have it,” asserted Ozma in a lower tone, “and she’s not going to be allowed to run in and out of my rooms, either.”

“Here she comes!” warned the Wizard, and Ozma turned to Dorothy with her sweetest smile.

A few minutes later the Red Wagon rolled up, drawn by the Sawhorse, a curious beast made entirely of wood. Swift as the wind, tireless, and loyal to his little Mistress, the Sawhorse was Ozma’s favorite steed. The girls and the Wizard took their places in the Red Wagon and started away. The Sawhorse had no reins, and needed none. By the shortest route he took them straight to Glinda’s palace with his usual incredible speed; so they arrived just in time for lunch.

Glinda greeted her royal guests in her usual pleasant manner, but Dorothy thought she seemed ill at ease. And when they had finished their meal, the Sorceress rose and addressed Ozma. “Perhaps you and the Wizard would like to come into the library for a conference. I have something of the utmost importance to tell you.“ Dorothy jumped up eagerly. “I’ll come too,” she exclaimed. “Is it something good or bad?”

The three looked at each other in great perplexity. “I don’t think it would interest you,” smiled the Sorceress pleasantly. “It’s about a magic appliance which you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” returned Dorothy cheerfully. “I’ll just read the Book of Records while you talk.”

“No, you won’t!” cried Ozma sharply. Then, as Dorothy started at her in amazement, she recovered her composure. “You run along and play while Glinda and the Wizard and I talk. We won’t be long, I’m sure.“ Thoroughly bewildered, the little girl wandered off. She had never been barred from their conferences before. Indeed, her company was eagerly sought; her opinions often consulted.

She went out into the patio where Glinda’s many lovely maids were working and playing. Dorothy knew most of the girls and spent a pleasant hour with them. Then, feeling that her friends must be about through, she went to the library and tapped timidly at the door.

Though Glinda admitted her cordially, Dorothy had an uneasy feeling that she had interrupted the three. To conceal her embarrasment, she walked over to the table to look at the Book of Records. Before she could read it, Ozma rushed over and slammed the great book shut. “There is nothing of interest in it today,” she explained pleasantly, if rather hastily. “Only horrid motor car accidents in America, and I know you won’t want to read about them.“ Dorothy was sure she had seen a red sentence, which she knew could only pertain to happenings in Oz, but she said nothing. Feeling miserably unwanted, and longing to cry, she turned toward the door. The Wizard jumped up.

“I think we’re about through now, Glinda,” he said. “Dorothy, will you run and tell the Sawhorse that we’re ready, to leave? If we go now, we’ll be home in time for supper.“ The little girl ran off, leaving the others staring at each other. “That was quick thinking, my dear Ozma,” remarked the Wizard. “If she had looked at that book, things might have become very unpleasant.”

“I think I’ll have to send her back to Kansas,” muttered the Princess crossly. “I can’t watch her every minute of the day, and she’s much too inquisitive.”

“Just don’t bring her here again,” said Glinda, frowning. “She’s positively dangerous.”

“Here she comes again,” cautioned the Wizard. “Ah, my dear, are we ready now? Goodbye Glinda. We’ll see you again soon.“ Glinda accompanied them to the door where the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon were waiting. After further goodbyes, the three climbed into the wagon, and the Sawhorse took them swiftly back to the Emerald City That evening Dorothy again approached Ozma. “I have another idea for the party,” she began.

“Party? What party?” snapped Ozma.

“Why, the Makeday party….”

“Makeday party? What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?”

“Don’t you remember? The Makeday party for the Scarecrow. We were going to have a strawride party and wear costumes.“ Ozma shuddered and held up a hand. “I remember now,” she returned. “But I’ve changed my mind; there isn’t going to be a party.”

“But the Scarecrow…”

“Bother the Scarecrow!” exclaimed Ozma savagely. “I said there won’t be a party, and I mean it. We’re through with parties! There aren’t going to be any more…!”

“But Ozma…”

“Don’t argue with me!” broke in Ozma sharply. “Now go away, and don’t bother me again. Go away, I said!“ Dorothy stared in disbelief. Then she burst into tears. She ran outside and flung herself down in the grass, sobbing heartbrokenly. Presently a soft nose touched her cheek.

Looking up, she saw the Cowardly Lion.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Has someone been teasing you? Stop crying— please stop crying, and tell me what’s wrong.“ Choking down her sobs, Dorothy sat up and told him all about her friend’s strange behavior. “And then she told me to go away and stop bothering her,” she finished with a fresh burst of grief.

“Well now, maybe she was just tired,” rumbled the Lion uneasily. “I’m cross when I’m tired, and I’ve known you to be pretty cranky yourself. Come on, wipe your eyes like a good girl.“ Obediently Dorothy pulled her hankerchief from her pocket. As she shook it out, a small white pellet fell out of it into her lap.

“What’s that?” grunted the Lion.

“A peppermint, I guess,” answered the little girl listlessly. “Want it?“ The Lion shook his head, so Dorothy absently popped the pellet into her mouth. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “I won’t worry any more—but I do wish I knew what was wrong.“ WHOOSH! Dorothy clutched at the Lion as they were lifted up, carried through the air with terrific speed and set down in the Library of Glinda’s palace.

“What happened?” puffed the Lion. “Is that what a cyclone feels like, Dorothy?”

“I don’t know what happened,” gasped the little girl, “I don’t think it was a cyclone —but where are we?” She looked around the room. “This is Glinda’s palace, and there’s the Book of Records. I’m going to look in it; maybe I can find out what’s the matter with Ozma.” As she opened the great book, several lines in red caught her eye. They had already begun to fade, and in the gloom it was difficult to make there out. Dorothy leaned over the book and squinted closely at the red letters in an effort to decipher them.

Suddenly she turned and flung herself on the Lion’s back. “Get us out of here,“ she whispered. “Quick, before someone catches us.“ The Lion, although he did not in the least understand the urgency, sprang through the window and bounded away, not stopping until they were many miles from Glinda’s palace. Finally he halted, and Dorothy slid from his hack.

“What did the Book say?” he panted anxiously.

“Faleero has enchanted the City of Pumperdink and overcome Ozma, Glinda and the Wizard!” puffed the little girl, after she caught her breath.

“What?” roared the Lion. “Nonsense! Ozma’s all right; I saw her myself this evening.”

“That wasn’t Ozma,” insisted Dorothy. “That was Faleero; she must have made herself look like Ozma somehow, so she could take Ozma’s place without anyone finding out.”

“Do you really think she could? Maybe the Book of Records has made a mistake.”

“The Book of Records never makes mistakes,” returned Dorothy grimly. “I should have known it wasn’t Ozma anyway; Ozma would never talk to me like that.”

The Lion rolled over on his back, with all four feet in the air.

“No wonder she was cross. Faleero always was an old crab apple—and at that, she’s probably being very gracious compared with her usual disposition.”

“She probably is,” agreed Dorothy soberly. “But she won’t stay even that nice for very long. She made the Pumperdinkians live on tea and crackers, and punished anyone who played games or had fun. We’ve got to think of some way to get Ozma back before she does anything like that to our friends.”

“She changed her looks, but she couldn’t change her disposition,” mused the Lion.

“I wonder what she did with Ozma.”

“Well, she couldn’t destroy her,” asserted Dorothy positively. “So she probably transformed her into something. We’ll have to find a way to untransform her.”

“Very neatly spoken,” murmured the Lion. “Nothing to it— just untransform her… Has it occurred to you, my dear, that Faleero might not look kindly upon the idea? After all, she must have gone to a great deal of trouble to conquer Ozma.”

“We mustn’t let Faleero know about it until it’s all over,” returned Dorothy severely.

“I hope you’ll let me know about it before then,” said the Lion. “Do you have a plan? This isn’t going to be easy, you know. Faleero must have some very strong magic.“ He shuddered. “If she finds out, she’s going to be furious.”

“We’ll find a way.” Dorothy hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

“Ozma’s been conquered before, but we’ve always been able to save her. Everything will be all right—just wait and see.“ The Lion peered at her sharply. “I must say, you’re taking all this very calmly,” he observed. “You cried just because she was cross with you before, and now you don’t seem worried at all.”

“Oh, I’m worried, all right,” admitted Dorothy. “But now that we know, I’m sure we can do something. And besides, it wasn’t Ozma who was cross with me—it was Faleero. What do I care if she’s cross?”

“She probably has plenty to be cross about,” snickered the Lion. “I bet you made her nervous as a witch.”

“I did,” giggled Dorothy. “I did everything wrong. The first thing this morning I told her I thought something had happened to her—Kettywig is there, too!” she added suddenly.

“Who? “Kettywig—Faleero’s husband. And right now, he’s the Wizard. Faleero’s sister, Falingo, is Glinda; and their maid, Dubra, is Jellia. I wondered why she called me ‘Miss.‘ I couldn’t understand it.”

Jumping to his feet, the Lion peered nervously over his shoulder. “Let’s get going,” he suggested. “This really is a mess, but we’ll decide what to do on the way back to the Palace.”

“We can’t go back there,” protested Dorothy, as she climbed on his back.

“We have to,” answered the Lion grimly. “What’s more, we have to get back before we’re missed. Faleero doesn’t know we’ve found her out, so the safest thing to do is to just act perfectly natural until we decide what to do. Maybe you could melt her with a bucket of water, as you did with the Witch of the West.”

“No.” Dorothy shook her head decidedly. “Faleero’s not a witch. She’s a fairy, so that wouldn’t work.“ The Lion quickened his pace, breaking into a run. “We’ve got to get back before morning,” he puffed. “Faleero will be suspicious if she finds us gone. How did we get here, anyway?”

“That lozenge must have been a wishing pill,” replied Dorothy. “It certainly wasn’t a peppermint. Oh, I remember—the Wizard gave it to me to get to Jack Pumpkinhead’s, but Jack came to the Palace so I didn’t need it. When I swallowed it, just now, I wished I knew what was wrong—and here we are.”

“Here we are, indeed,” grunted the Lion. “The Wizard didn’t happen to give you one to come home, did he? No sense in walking all the way if you have another, ” he added wistfully, slackening his pace.

Dorothy felt in both pockets and shook her head regretfully. “I must have lost it,“ she mourned.

“Oh, well, it would have been too good to be true, anyway,” the Lion grumbled.

“Hang on.” He set off at an incredible pace, but like all cats, strong and swift though he was, he had to stop often to rest, so it was almost dawn by the time they reached the Emerald City.

“The Red Jinn!” exclaimed the little girl suddenly.

“Where?” The exhausted Lion stopped and looked around. “I don’t see him.”

“Of course not; he’s in Ev,” explained Dorothy. “But if we go to him, I’m sure he’ll help us. He saved Pumperdink from Faleero.”

“If we can get to him,” grunted the Lion. “Don’t forget, Ev is on the other side of the Deadly Desert. How do you propose to cross it?”

“I don’t know yet,” answered Dorothy solomnly. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“We’ll both think about it,” promised the Lion. “Now scoot to bed and get a little sleep. Meet me in the garden after breakfast, and we’ll see what we can do.“ Dorothy gave the Lion a parting hug and stole quietly into the Palace and up to her room. Too tired even to undress, she flung herself across the bed and slept.

It was late when she awoke, and there was no one in the breakfast room.

Thankfully, the little girl ate, and ran out to the garden to find the Lion. They sat down together under a big bush which screened them from the Palace.

“I think I’ve thought of something,” confided the child breathlessly.

“Do you remember long ago when the Gnome King made a tunnel under the Desert so he could conquer Oz? The tunnel ended at the Forbidden Fountain. If we could find it, we could go through it under the Desert.”

“I thought Ozma closed it,” objected the Lion.

“Only at this end, where they broke through the ground. The tunnel is still there; all we have to do is find out where it is, dig down to it, and there we are.” Dorothy flung out her hands triumphantly.

“Well, let’s have a look,” rumbled the Lion doubtfully. “Though I must say, I don’t like the idea of burrowing through the earth like a worm.“ Together they hurried to the Forbidden Fountain at the foot of the Palace garden.

The Forbidden Fountain had been given its name because it contained the Water of Oblivion. Whoever drank of it forgot all his past life, good or bad. The Gnome King, together with his gnomes, had built the tunnel under the desert in order to conquer the Emerald City. Acting on the advice of the Scarecrow, Ozma had foiled this plan by filling the tunnel with dust, by means of her Magic Belt. The Gnome King and his allies emerged from the tunnel gasping and choking, hurried to the Fountain and drank. At once they forgot their evil intentions and willingly returned to their underground homes.

Standing by the Fountain, the Cowardly Lion looked around at the smooth lawn.

“How are we to know where to start digging?” he asked. “We can’t just go around digging holes here and there all over the grass. Faleero wouldn’t like it.“ They looked at each other blankly. Then Dorothy shook her head slowly. “I guess we’ll have to think of something else.”

“Wait a minute,” exclaimed the Lion suddenly. “The tunnel came from the east, didn’t it? Let’s walk east from the Fountain, and wherever we run into a clump of bushes, we’ll dig. That way it won’t show what we’re doing.“ As there were many bushes and trees grouped here and there about the garden, this plan seemed the most practical. But, after digging five deep holes and filling them up again smoothly, they began to lose hope. “We may as well quit,” sighed Dorothy. “We’ll never find it.”

“Let’s try one more place,” proposed the Lion determinedly. “Maybe we haven’t got the direction right. I’m going to try this clump over here to the southeast.“ Dorothy followed him without much hope. They had been digging all morning; the little girl was completely disheartened.

“Oh, good!” growled the Lion disgustedly. “I certainly picked a fine place. There’s a rock here almost as big as you are.” He inserted a paw under the rock and pulled experimentally. Much to his surprise it rolled away easily, uncovering a hole big enough for them to squeeze through.

“This must be it,” whispered Dorothy. The Lion nodded and rolled the stone back, covering the opening.

“Don’t do that!” Dorothy protested. “Let’s go!”

“We can’t,” explained the Lion. “If we just disappear, Faleero will be sure to get suspicious. Go in and ask her if we can take a little trip; tell her—tell her we want to visit Ojo. Then get a big basket of food—and don’t forget to bring a box of matches. We’ll need light in that tunnel.”

“That’s right,” agreed Dorothy. “But I hate to face Faleero again. I don’t think I could sit through another meal with her — and as for calling her ‘Ozma’—Ugh! I’ll hunt her up though, and we’ll leave right away. You wait by the Fountain.“

At the Palace, she found Faleero and Kettywig (I can’t call them Ozma and the Wizard any more, either…!). Looking at the sweet face of the Princess, Dorothy found it hard to believe that this was not her beloved friend and bitterly regretted the necessity for deceiving her. But she knew that the fate of the real Ozma was in her hands; she forced herself to smile at Faleero.

“Would you mind,” she asked, “if the Lion and I went to Seebania to visit Ojo? I suppose we’ll be gone a week or two.“ Faleero was delighted at the chance to get Dorothy away, and consented graciously. Dorothy then went out to the kitchens where the cooks prepared a huge basket of food. Before she left, Dorothy slipped a box-of matches into her pocket.

At the Fountain, the Lion nervously awaited her return, and greeted her with relief. Looking around to ensure that they were not observed, they entered the clump of bushes. The Lion rolled back the stone.

CHAPTER IV
IN THE TUNNEL

The Lion shuddered as he peered down into the black hole. “I certainly wish there were some other way we could cross the Desert,” he muttered dismally. “You have no idea how scared I am of going down there.”

“Oh, yes I do,” breathed Dorothy tremulously. “I’m afraid too. But what else can we do? We’ve got to get to Jinnicky if we want to save Ozma, and that’s the only way we can do it. We’ve got to do something…!” Tears glistened in the little girl’s eyes.

The Lion licked her cheek. “Don’t cry, Dorothy,” he begged. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. I can see fairly well in the dark, so it’ll really be worse for you. Can’t we find a torch or something?“‘ Dorothy nodded. She dried her tears and began hunting for dry sticks. They collected a bundle of them which she tied securely with her hair ribbon. Then, resolutely, they approached the black hole again.

“Don’t light a torch until we are in the tunnel,” cautioned the Lion. “Somebody might see you and come to investigate, and this would be very difficult to explain. I’ll jump down first and see how deep it is. Maybe you can stand on my back and pull the stone back over the hole. We shouldn’t leave it open, if we can help it.”

The Lion lifted his head to take a last long look at the light. “I’d rather face an army of Kalidahs than do this,” he observed mournfully. With that, he jumped, and Dorothy heard the thud as he landed. “It’s not far down,” she heard him say from the darkness. “Pull the stone as close to the hole as you can, and lower yourself to my back.”

The little girl pulled the stone over the hole, leaving just room enough to squeeze through.

Lowering herself into the blackness took every bit of her courage. “But it’s the only possible way,” she told herself practically, and dropped over the edge. There was a moment of freezing terror as she hung by her hands in the bottomless blackness. Then, with a sob of relief, she felt the Lion’s strong back move into place under her feet.

Standing on his back, she pulled and tugged at the stone until it rolled directly over the hole, covering it completely.

“Good thing it didn’t crash through on top of us,” grunted the Lion. “Light one of those sticks, please. Quick, before I jump out of here.”

“We couldn’t jump back out now if we wanted to,” Dorothy returned soberly. “I could never move that stone from down here.”

“Just as well,” shuddered the Lion. “Now we have to go on —we haven’t any choice. Please hurry up with that light.” Dorothy fumbled in her pocket for a match. Striking it, she lighted one of the sticks. By its feeble glow, they surveyed the scene.

“Nothing to see,” observed Dorothy.

“That’s fine,” declared the Lion. “I hope there will be nothing to see until we come to the other end. As long as I don’t see anything, I won’t be afraid. Come on; let’s go.”

There was, as Dorothy said, nothing to see—nothing but bare walls of dirt and stone, with here and there the roots of a tree pushing through.

“We can use these roots if we run out of sticks,” remarked the Lion, as they walked along. “There’ll probably be plenty of them along the way.”

“Not under the Desert,” Dorothy reminded him. “Maybe we’d better use them now as we need them, and save the sticks.”

“I guess we’d better,” agreed the Lion. “I’d certainly hate to run out of light half way across the desert. Where does this tunnel end, anyway?”

“I don’t know exactly,” answered Dorothy. “Somewhere in the Gnome King’s country. Maybe Kaliko will help us.”

“I doubt it,” rumbled the Lion. “He wasn’t very much help when you and Pigasus went to him the time Skamperoo and his white horse conquered Oz.”

“Well, he helped us a little,” remembered Dorothy. “And he would have helped us if we had gotten another army.”

“Or so he said,” grunted the Lion skeptically. “We won’t tell him anything about it —just that we wanted to visit. We won’t tell anyone until we find Jinnicky. That’s the safest plan.“ How long they walked in the gloomy tunnel, Dorothy never could tell.. They had no way of telling time. They ate when they grew hungry, slept when they became tired, and woke to continue their slow journey under the ground.

“The only good thing about this place is that it’s not inhabited,” the Lion had just finished saying—when suddenly his feet went out from under him with such force that Dorothy was thrown over his head. The torch went out, and in total darkness Dorothy scrambled to her feet. “Dorothy!” roared the Lion. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” answered the little girl. “The light went out, though.”

“So I see,” growled the Lion. “Or so I don’t see—I can’t see anything. Stand still and I’ll try to find you. Somebody stretched a wire across the tunnel. If I ever lay my paws on him, he’ll be sorry. Of all the low tricks!”

“Of course it’s a low trick,” hissed a voice out of the darkness. “This is Low.”

“I’ll say it’s low,” grumbled the Lion. “Who said that? Dorothy, did you? This is no time for jokes…!“ Dorothy shook her head. Then, remembering that the Lion couldn’t see her, she managed a weak “No.” Stepping toward the Lion’s voice, she stretched out her arms in an effort to locate him. With a scream, she jumped back —something cold had touched her arm…!

“Don’t yell like that!” hissed the voice irritably. “And stop waving your arms like a windmill.“ The Lion sprang toward the sound of their voices. He bumped squarely into Dorothy, knocking her down again. She caught at his mane and pulled herself up onto his back.

“Come,” ordered the sibilant voice. “Come with me to his Imperial Lowness.”

“Who are you, and why should we come with you?” demanded the Lion, his voice trembling a little.

“I am Be Low, captain of the King’s Guard. You have entered the City of Low; therefore, you must be taken to the King.“ Be Low’s voice was not unfriendly; Dorothy began to lose some of her fright.

“What does your King do to strangers?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” returned the creature. “There have never been any strangers in Low. It will probably be quite interesting.”

“Oh, quite,” agreed the Lion. “Fascinating, no doubt. Dorothy, light another torch. This is the third time I’ve stumbled.”

“Stop. There is no light permitted in Low!” hissed the Lower.

“Then how do you see?” inquired Dorothy, putting the matches back into her pocket with some haste.

“With our eyes, of course,” replied Be Low. “All Lowers have bright eyes.“ Indeed, as the creature turned toward Dorothy, she could see its eyes glowing through the darkness.

“If anyone ever calls me a little bright-eyes again, I’ll hit ‘em,” Dorothy whispered in the Lion’s ear. Then, turning again to the Lower, she asked, “What do you look like?”

“Like a Lower, of course,” it returned.

“But what does a Lower look like?” persisted Dorothy.

“Like me,” was the reply. The Lion growled under his breath. Dorothy pinched him warningly.

“But we can’t see you,” she pleaded. “Do you look like the Lion, or like me? I mean, do you have two legs, or…”

“I certainly don’t look like either of you, thank goodness,” snapped the Lower.

“And what under the earth would I do with legs?”

“Most creatures walk on them,” the Lion snapped back. “What do you do—fly?”

“Certainly not,” the Lower murmured complacently. “We float. Floating is much more graceful than flying.”

“It must be easier than walking, too,” groaned the Lion, as he stubbed his toe for the fourteenth time. “Aren’t we almost there—OUCH!”

“Be quiet!” hissed Be Low angrily. “Why don’t you wait until the door is open instead of banging into it?“ The Lion rubbed his nose, snarling under his breath.

“Come,” ordered the Lower. The great beast stepped forward cautiously. Meeting no resistance, he followed his strange guide.

“His Imperial Lowness, So Low, Sole Ruler of Low!” announced Be Low.

“I can’t see anything, can you?” Dorothy whispered to the Lion.

“Bow to his Imperial Lowness!” commanded Be Low severely.

“Which way should we bow?” stuttered the little girl. “I can’t see.“ A bell chimed, and out of the darkness appeared two glowing eyes the size of dinner plates. All around gleamed scores of smaller eyes. Choking back a scream, Dorothy flung her arms around the Lion’s neck and buried her face in his mane.

CHAPTER V
TROUBLE AT THE EMERALD PALACE

Back at the Emerald City, things were going from bad to worse.

As the Lion had shrewdly guessed, Faleero found it easier to change her appearance than her disposition. Although greatly relieved by Dorothy’s departure, she soon found that her troubles had only begun.

Trot and Betsy returned to the palace after a week at Sapphire City. Faleero, who hated children, found it impossible to endure their chatter; and their constant running and playing nearly drove her mad. Before the morning was over, she had sent Betsy to her room in tears and mortally insulted Trot by slighting references to her friend, Cap’n Bill.

“I can’t understand it, mates,” nuzzled the old sailor, when he and the two girls were alone in Betsy’s room. “‘Pears like we’ve outstayed our welcome here. Maybe we’d better go back to America.”

The thought of leaving their beloved fairyland so terrified the two little girls that they hastily dried their tears and implored him not to think of such a thing. After a thorough discussion of their beloved Ruler’s strange conduct, they came to the conclusion that something was worrying her.

“Let’s just keep out of her way,” proposed Trot. “She’ll get over it and be sorry.“ ’ Maybe. We can help her,” suggested Betsy timidly. “If we find out what she’s worried about, perhaps we can do something about it.“ Cap’n Bill shook his head. “She knows we’ll help her if she needs it,” he returned.

“We’ll just stir up more trouble if we go poking around. Keep away from her as much as you can until she’s friendly again.“ Kettywig, meanwhile, with great difficulty, persuaded Faleero that she was ruining all hope of success. When they met again, she was very gracious to the old sailor and the girls, apologizing sweetly for her previous bad humor. They were reassured for the moment, but still puzzled over her strange behavior.

And as time went by, they had occasion to be more puzzled. Faleero refused curtly to be drawn into games which Ozma had loved. She scolded the Soldier with the Green Whiskers when she found him down on his knees playing marbles. She flew into a rage at the Patchwork Girl’s saucy verses, and she was heard to call the Wizard a “pompous old windbag.”

Then Scraps unaccountably vanished. After her, in quick succession, went Button Bright, the Shaggy Plan, and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. Faleero professed to be greatly concerned about these disappearances, and apparently spared no pains in her efforts to locate the missing persons.

“I think it’s magic,” shivered Trot. “Somebody’s put a spell on Ozma to make her cross, and whoever did it is picking off the rest of us, one by one.”

“I’m for getting out of here,” declared Cap’n Bill. “let’s ask Ozma to send us home.“ This, Trot and Betsy refused. Nor could they persuaded to go to the Winkie Country to stay with their good friend, the Tin Woodman, Emperor of the Winkies, “..just ‘til this thing blows over,” pleaded Cap’n Bill.

“I’m ashamed of you, Cap’n,” Trot replied with spirit. “After all Ozma’s done for us, we’re not going to leave her now that she’s in trouble.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” admitted the old sailor reluctantly. “We’ll stick it out. Just be pleasant to Ozma, and stay away from her as much as possible. She don’t seem to want us around much.“ The girls obeyed this suggestion so well that they hardly ever saw Faleero except at meals. Relieved of their constant attendance, she succeeded in disguising her dislike of them, and was usually quite pleasant. Kettywig commended her on her remarkable restraint, and the conquest of Oz seemed complete.

CHAPTER VI
ESCAPE FROM THE LOWERS

With her face hidden in the Lion’s mane, Dorothy had given herself up for lost, when the King spoke. “That’s enough bowing,” he observed. “You don’t have to stay all doubled up forever.“ Dorothy lifted her head cautiously. “That’s better,” approved So Low. “Now who are you, and what are you doing in Low?”

Mindful of the Lion’s warning, Dorothy said nothing of the strange affairs in the Emerald City, merely telling the King that they had found the tunnel and were curious to know where it led. “If you have no objection, we should like to pass through your kingdom.“ The glowing eyes regarded her intently. “No one has ever left Low,” the King announced finally. “It’s against the Law.”

“But no strangers have ever come here before,” pleaded Dorothy. “We don’t belong in Low. We can’t stay here. We live in Oz.”

“Then you should have stayed there,” replied the King severely. “However, since you are here, we shall have to make the best of it. Take them away, Be Low, and separate them from their bodies. We don’t use bodies down here,” he explained. “They are clumsy, useless things. When you’ve been removed from yours, you’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Your eyes will glow like ours,” put in Be Low. “Especially that big beast’s. His glow a little already.“ Frantically Dorothy tried to plead with the King, but to no avail.

With a roar, the Lion sprang at him, but So Low floated out of reach.

“Come,” ordered Be Low. The Lion sprang again at the mocking eyes, but succeeded only in bruising himself against the hard stone walls. “It’s no use,” moaned Dorothy.

But just then her hand touched the box of matches in her pocket. Quickly she drew it out and struck one. The Lowers retreated from the sudden flare in a chorus of frightened hisses. Evidently the creatures could not stand light.

“Quick, light a torch!” roared the Lion. “Light a lot of them.“ Dorothy held the match to one of the sticks. In its light they could see that they were in a large chamber. All the Lowers had vanished, and the curtains at one end of the room still quivered as though someone had just passed through.

“That was close,” breathed the Lion, with a long sigh of relief. “Let’s get out of here.”

“How?” asked Dorothy. “Which way do we go?”

“We came in through the curtains, I think. Let’s go out the other way.” But at the end of the room, the way was blocked by a massive door. Heavy and solid, it defeated Dorothy’s every attempt to open it. The Lowers, clustered behind the curtains, laughed mockingly. “You can’t escape us,” hissed the King. “We’ll wait until your light goes out; then you will be helpless.“ Dorothy was getting very angry. “Let’s go after them,” she whispered. But behind the curtains there was only another door, and behind it she could hear the Lowers jeering.

“All right,” she called. “Maybe we can’t get away, but before you get us, I’m going to burn everything; I can find and I’m starting right now on these curtains!”

“Start on the door,” advised the Lion. “It’s wood.”

“No! No!” wailed the Low King. “We’ll let you go; don’t burn our castle.”

“Do you mean to say that you call this little hole in the ground a castle?” sneered the Lion. “Let us out and be quick about it. We’re not used to living in such squalor.”

“If you’ll just put out the light,” begged the King.

“Put out the light…!” roared the Lion indignantly, “What do you take us for?”

“We lowers can’t stand light,” So Low faltered. “It destroys us. I give you my word nothing will happen to you. You can’t get out until the door is opened, and we can’t open it until you pint out the light.“ Dorothy realized the truth of this statement, and agreed. “Wait ‘til we go back to the door,” she called. “I’ll put out the light, and you send someone in. Remember, I’ll be holding a match, and at the first sign of treachery, I’ll light it.”

They returned to the door, and Dorothy blew out the torch. Soon they saw a pair of eyes moving toward them. “Is that you, Be Low?” asked Dorothy.

“No, I’m Hel Low.” The lower floated past them. “Come; the door is open. I will take you to the end of Low.“ Through the dark tunnel they followed the strange creature. Hel Low did not speak, seeming to be very frightened. Finally he stopped. “This is the end of Low,” he said. “Goodbye, Uppers.”

“Goodbye, Hel Low,” they responded. Dorothy gave the Lower time to get away before re-lighting her torch, and they continued their journey.

After a long time the little girl stopped. “I can’t go any farther,“ she confessed. “Let’s eat and get some sleep.“ The Lion shook his head. “There is no water,” he objected. “Let’s keep going until we come to a spring. You can ride on my back.“ Dorothy sighed wearily as she obeyed. The excitement of the past few hours had left her very tired. “It won’t be much farther,” the Lion encouraged her. “There has been a spring every mile or so as far as we’ve come. We should come to the next one soon.”

As the Lion proceeded, Dorothy’s head began to nod. Presently she fell into a deep slumber and did not awaken until the great beast stopped. She sat up drowsily.

“Did you find a spring?”

“No,” answered the Lion. “I must have walked five miles since you went to sleep, and I haven’t seen a sign of water.”

“That’s queer,” remarked Dorothy, as she slid from his back. “And do you notice how hot and close it is down here?”

“It’s been getting hotter the last mile or so,” answered the Lion. He seemed about to say more, but turned his head away. After a moment he spoke. ” We might as well have our supper now, and spend the night here.” Dorothy regarded him for a moment, puzzled; then she realized what was troubling him. She smiled fondly, and gently tweaked his ear.

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me; we’re under the Desert now, and we won’t find any water ‘til we get to the other side. Isn’t that right?“ The Lion looked relieved. “That’s right,” he admitted. “We’ll have to get along without it until we’ve passed the Desert.”

“Well, we can’t die,” remarked Dorothy. “No one in Oz ever does. We’ll probably get pretty thirsty, but I guess we can stand it.” Cheerfully she opened the basket of lunch.

They ate sparingly of the little that remained. Then the Lion stretched out on the rocky floor. Dorothy lay down beside him and pillowed her head on his great shaggy side.

How long they slept, Dorothy had no way of knowing, but they awoke feeling much refreshed and ready to proceed. The Lion refused to eat, insisting that he could get along without food better than she. Dorothy ate a sandwich, and they started off.

“It’s getting much hotter,” remarked Dorothy presently. “I didn’t think it would be this hot, even under the Desert.”

“Listen!” said the Lion suddenly. Dorothy listened, but could hear nothing at first.

Then, very faintly, she detected a rushing noise which gradually grew louder at every step.

“It sounds like a waterfall!” she exclaimed.

“I hope so,” panted the Lion. “I’m so thirsty, I could drink it dry.“ The tunnel twisted and turned. Full of hope, they hurried toward the ever-increasing sound. Suddenly rounding a sharp bend, they saw the cause of the noise. A great firefall, coming from high above their heads, and flowing across the tunnel, shut off all possible means of continuing.

The Cowardly Lion sat down, breathing hard. “Well, that fixes us,” he commented. Dorothy slid from his back and approached the flaming torrent. The Lion came up behind her. “Do you see any way to cross?” he asked.

Dorothy shook her head. “You couldn’t jump it, could you?“ The Lion measured the distance with his eyes. “Not without wings,” he grunted.

“It must be thirty feet across.“ Dorothy sat down beside him. “There must be some way,” she insisted. “Do you suppose we could dig through the wall behind the firefall?”

As the Lion considered this possibility, his gaze was caught by a gleam of light coming from the tunnel on the other side of the fiery river. “I didn’t notice that before, did you?” he asked.

“Maybe it’s another firefall,” returned Dorothy. “Funny, it seems to be getting brighter.” Then she jumped to her feet with a gasp of fear.

Around the curve came the head of an enormous serpent. Fully six feet across, the head and what they could see of its immense body shone with a pearly radiance, “as if it had swallowed a light bulb,” Dorothy said later.

The Cowardly Lion, trembling in every limb, stepped in front of the little girl, although he knew he could so little to protect her from such a fearsome creature.

“Maybe it can’t get across the fire,” Dorothy whispered hopefully. Hardly had she spoken, though, when the serpent reached the shores of the fire river and plunged unconcernedly in, splashing waves of fire in all directions. Drawing great loops of its body into the river, it splashed and wallowed with every evidence of enjoyment.

Dorothy noticed that a great portion of its body still stretched down the tunnel.

Indeed, its tail was still out of sight around the curve.

The Lion nudged her. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered huskily. Step-by-step they began to retreat down the tunnel from which they had come.

“If only we can get around the corner, we’ll be safe,” breathed Dorothy.

CHAPTER VII
GLIM, THE GLOW WORM

They had almost reached the curve in the tunnel when the monster lifted its head and saw them. With a lunge, it uncurled; the immense head shot out of the fire and moved deliberately down the tunnel toward them. Nearer and nearer it came as they stood frozen with terror.

Directly before them it stopped and regarded them mildly. “As I live and glow,” it remarked, “…a mortal girl. A girl and an animal. Who are you, and what are you doing here?“ Too frightened to answer, Dorothy began to cry.

“Don’t do that,” begged the serpent in great distress. Dorothy only cried harder. “I won’t hurt you,” pleaded the monster. “Please stop—you’re getting all wet.

“If you stop, I’ll let you swim in my pool,” it offered, with a burst of sudden generosity.

Dorothy stopped crying and looked up. It did seem friendly. “Where is your pool?” she asked, her thirst overcoming her fear.

“Yes, where is it?” roared the Lion. “Lead us to it. I’d almost be willing to let you eat me if I could just have a drink first.”

“Eat you…?” The monster seemed shocked. “Why should I eat you? You don’t look as if you’d taste very good,” it murmured, turning away.

“Now you’ve hurt its feelings,” scolded Dorothy. “Don’t go— he was only joking. Please don’t be angry,” she called.

The serpent turned back. “Well, all right. If you say so,” it muttered sulkily. “But I’ve never been so insulted in all my life.”

“I’m sorry,” answered the Lion contritely. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings— but where is your pool?”

“Right here,” chortled the serpent. “Come on in and have a swim.”

“Do you mean this river of fire?” exclaimed Dorothy.

“Of course,” returned the creature. “It’s really lovely, and just as warm as toast. Come on, it’s not deep.”

“Warm as toast is right,” chuckled the Lion. “We can’t go in there, Mr. Serpent. We’d be burned to a crisp.”

“Oh, really?” murmured the monster. “I had no idea. But I’m not a serpent; I’m a Glow Worm. My name is Glimmer Glimmer, but you may call me Glim,” it added bashfully. Dorothy introduced herself and the Cowardly Lion. Glim was very much interested, as he had often heard of them from his friends, the Rock Fairies.

Then the Lion, in a sudden burst of confidence, told him of the fate of Ozma, Glinda, and the Wizard. The Glow Worm was horrified. “We had hoped to cross the Desert in this tunnel, and ask the Red Jinn for help,” explained Dorothy. “But we can’t get across this fire river, so I suppose we’ll have to go back.

“I’ll take you across,” offered Glim. “Jump on my head, and we’ll go right now.”

“Make it fast,” cautioned the Lion. “We can’t stand fire, as you do.“ They climbed upon the creature’s head, and held on. He plunged into the fire and out again so quickly that they scarcely felt the heat.

“Don’t get off,” suggested Glim, as they came to the far shore. “I’ll go with you part of the way. There’s another branch of the river farther up; you’ll need me to take you across.” They agreed, and thanked their new friend.

Then, as they rode along, Dorothy had an opportunity to  examine her strange steed. Glim was pure white, with scales like pearls; he glowed with a light that seemed to come from within him. His eyes were blue, she discovered by bending over to see, and altogether he was very beautiful. The rest of his body still stretched out ahead of them on the other side of the tunnel.

“We’re almost up to my tail,” confided Glim presently. “I think you’ll like it; it’s quite pretty. I go back sometimes just to admire it.”

“How long, are you?” asked Dorothy curiously.

“I think I’m almost a mile long,” answered Glim. “I’m not really certain, as I have no way of measuring. I often wish I knew.”

“When we get Ozma back, you can come to the Emerald City, and I’ll measure you,” offered Dorothy.

“Would you really?“ Dorothy promised, and Glim gave a snort of delight.

“Can you get out of the tunnel and up to the surface when you want to?” asked the Lion.

“Oh, yes,” answered the Glow Worm. “There are many passages leading to the surface. I don’t go up very often any more because everyone I meet seems to be afraid of me, but if you really want me to come, I’ll be glad to.“ Dorothy assured him that she did. “I wonder what made all the other passages,“ she remarked presently.

“The Gnomes dug the main tunnel,” explained Glim. “Then, after their attempt to conquer Oz failed and the tunnel was abandoned, many creatures moved in. You know, of course, that there are as many creatures living under the Earth as upon its surface. Many of these made their homes in the tunnel; and when I came, it was already crowded. Since then the tunnel has been greatly enlarged, and the side passages made for the benefit of those who wish to spend some of their time on the Earth’s surface.”

“We haven’t seen anyone except you and the Lowers,” put in the Lion.

“The Lowers!” snorted Glim disgustedly. “We don’t associ- ate with them. We make them stay in their own little kingdom. No one ever goes to Low. We built another road around it. You should have gone that way instead of passing through Low.”

“I wish we had,” sighed Dorothy. “But we’were afraid to leave the main tunnel for fear of getting lost.”

“Where are the rest of the tunnelers?” asked the Lion with great interest.

“Tunnelers?” echoed Glim. “Oh, you mean the Underlings. Why, as I was about to explain, the tunnel was overcrowded, and each Underling excavated his own home, connected to the tunnel by a shaft. The tunnel itself is used only for traveling purposes now. I myself was fortunate enough to find a cavern not far from here. The fire river flows right through it, and keeps it warm and comfortable.”

“Do—do all the Underlings like fire, as you do?” asked the Lion apprehensively.

“Oh, no. Many of them can’t endure heat, and live in caverns far below carved in solid ice. It’s very uncomfortable down there. Then again, some live in water.”

“Water!” choked Dorothy, remembering how thirsty she was.

“Isn’t it ridiculous?” asked Glim. “There are some not far from here, down the next passage.”

“Very ridiculous,” agreed the Lion huskily. “Will you take us to see them?”

“Please do,” begged Dorothy. “I am so thirsty.”

“Thirsty? What does that mean?”

“It means we want a drink of water right now,” explained the Lion.

“Water?” gasped the Glow Worm. “Surely you don’t drink water. It’s so cold and wet.” But after being assured that they did, he turned at the next passage which led down to an underground lake. He watched nervously while Dorothy drank her fill. Then he turned to the Lion, who with closed eyes, was still ecstatically lapping at the water.

“Don’t you think that’s enough?” he asked anxiously. “I’m sure it’s not good for you to get so damp inside.”

“It’s good for me!” gurgled the Lion, strangling with the effort of talking through a mouthful of water. But at last, to the Glow Worm’s great relief, the Lion lifted his head and turned from the water.

“I feel better now,” he sighed. “What sort of creatures live here?”

“The Delvers,” answered Glim, still eyeing him apprehensively. “Would you like to see them?” At Dorothy’s eager assent, he raised his head and gave a shrill whistle.

From across the lake came an answering whistle and a series of splashes. Soon they could see gleaming figures approaching through the water.

“They shine too!” exclaimed Dorothy.

“Oh, yes,” nodded Glim. “All Underlings carry their own light with them.“ By now the Delvers had reached the shore and were climbing out of the water.

They were rather small and had shining, golden fur. Their tails were broad, flat and hairless. One wore a crown upon his head. Dorothy Judged that he must be the King. The little creatures seemed to have no fear of them and clustered boldly around. Glim introduced his friends to the King, who welcomed them pleasantly.

“You look rather like beavers,” commented the Lion.

The King chuckled. “We are a branch of the beaver family,” he explained. “When we lived above the ground, we were called beavers.”

“Why don’t you live above the ground now?” asked Dorothy.

“It was too dangerous,” answered the King. “We do not like the sunlight, so we used to work at night. Our bright coats made it easy for other creatures to find us, so we were never safe from hungry animals. One day Glim told us of this underground tunnel and lake, and offered to take us to it. When we saw it, we decided to make our homes here. It is very pleasant, isn’t it?”

Dorothy looked around the gloomy cavern with a slight shudder. It was not at all her idea of a pleasant place to live. She did not wish to offend the Delver King, however, so she agreed politely.

“It’s too dark for me,” rumbled the Lion frankly.

The Delver was not disturbed; he smoothed his coat complacently.

“Our fur gives us our light,” he returned.

There came a sudden flash of light from above, and something that seemed light a blazing comet shot closely past Dorothy’s nose. She gasped and jumped back. Glim laughed. “Some more of the inhabitants of the cavern,” he explained.

Dorothy looked up; she saw many more of the bright creatures flying over her head. One swooped down and alighted upon Glim’s head.

“Hello, Blazer, how are you?” asked the Glow Worm affably.

Blazer twittered a reply which Dorothy could not understand. He was a bat, and was very tiny, with flame-colored fur. With his wings folded, he looked like a large mouse. He regarded them with curiosity for a moment, then darted away.

“What else lives here?” asked the Lion. “Are there any fish in the lake?“ For answer, a Delver slapped his tail against the water. Out in the lake a great fiery fish leaped high out of the water and fell back with a mighty splash.

“Shiner,” explained Glim. “They’re the only fish in the lake.“ By this time Dorothy felt that they had seen all that they cared to.

Bidding the Delvers goodbye, she and the Lion climbed up to their places on Glim’s head. The Glow Worm backed out to the main tunnel, and they took up their journey once more.

“Here’s my tail,” Glim reported a short time later. “What do you think of it?“ Dorothy was delighted. The Glow Glorm’s tail ended in a series of rattles, each made of gold. “It’s perfectly beautiful,” she declared. “Does it rattle?”

“Certainly not!” protested Glim. “It chimes—listen.” As he moved his tail, clear bell-like chimes came from it.

“I can play a little tune with it,” confessed the Glow Worm; and he did play a short melody. Dorothy applauded politely, and the huge creature seemed much pleased.

“I’ll see you later,” he told his tail, as they left it. “I think it gets lonesome all by itself all day long,” he confided to Dorothy. “I often drop in to visit it.“ Dorothy struggled to keep a straight face, and the Lion bit his foot sharply to control himself. The Glow Worm seemed so in earnest that they did not want to hurt his feelings by laughing at him.

They traveled very rapidly now. The Glow Worm seemed to flow over the ground, the light from his body shedding a radiance which lighted the tunnel far ahead. Soon they reached and crossed the second river of fire. Here the Glow Worm stopped.

“Don’t go,” begged Dorothy. “Come with us to Ev.”

“Yes, come with us,” echoed the Cowardly Lion, who had taken a great fancy to the gigantic creature.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” protested Glim. “I’ll have to polish my scales to be ready to meet Ozma when you get her back. I will take you to the end of the tunnel, though,” he offered generously.

The travelers were delighted to accept. They knew Glim’s amazing speed would save them much time.

“But let’s eat first,” proposed the Lion. Dorothy opened the basket, and while Glim looked on in amazement, she and the Lion made a hearty meal. They offered sandwiches to the Glow Worm, but he refused to try them. Moving off to the river of fire, he began lapping up flames.

“That makes my stomach hurt just to watch,” gulped the Lion uneasily. “Talk about heartburn….”

“It’s good,” returned Glim. “You ought to try it.”

“No thanks!” The Lion was quite emphatic. “You stick to your diet, and I’ll stick to mine!”

CHAPTER VIII
THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Once more the little girl and the Lion took their places on top of the Glow Worm’s broad, flat head. Glim, realizing the need for haste, put forth his best efforts with the result that they reached the end of the tunnel in a few hours. “This is as far as I can go,“ he announced, sliding to a stop. “That small passage will take you into the domain of the Gnome King.”

“I wish you could come with us,” murmured Dorothy.

“I’m too big to squeeze through that little space,” returned Glim. “Besides, I’ll see you soon in the Emerald City. Goodbye and good luck.”

After thanking the Glow Worm earnestly for his help, they turned to the small passage. Dorothy lit a torch, as they could no longer benefit by Glim’s light. The Lion went first, for there was not room for two to walk abreast.

The tunnel was short, although it was narrow and crooked, and soon they could see light ahead. It ended in a shaft of the Gnome King’s great mines.

As they emerged, a dozen Gnomes stopped working, and rushed toward them with upraised picks and shovels. They stopped however, at the fierce menace of the Lion’s roar, and began backing away rapidly.

“Stop!” cried Dorothy. “We won’t hurt you. Take us to your king.“ The Gnomes stopped a safe distance away, and conferred among themselves nervously. At length one old Gnome stepped- forward. “I know who you are,” he said.

“You’re Princess Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion of Oz. I was here when you set free the Royal Family of Ev, and stole the old King’s Magic Belt.”

“I didn’t steal it,” protested the little girl indignantly. “I took it away from Ruggedo because he was going to turn us to ornaments. If he had behaved himself, he could have kept it. Take us to King Kaliko.“ There was jeering laughter at this, and the old Gnome said, “I’ll do even better than that; I’ll bring Kaliko to you.“ As he went out, the Lion moved closer to Dorothy. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

“There’s something wrong here. I thought the Gnome King was our friend, but these Gnomes don’t seem very friendly.”

“Never mind,” answered Dorothy. “They’ll be all right when Kaliko comes. He might not help us much, but he’ll give us some food and a place to spend the night.“ The old Gnome returned, followed by a worker with a pick over his shoulder.

Dorothy gasped as she recognized him. “Why, Kaliko,” she cried, “what are you doing here?“ Kaliko greeted them in a friendly manner, but seemed ill at ease.

“What’s the matter, Kaliko?” inquired the Lion. “Tired of Kinging?”

“The fact is, I’m not King anymore,” explained Kaliko. “Guph threw me out and took my place. He wouldn’t even let me be Lord Chamberlain again, but sent me to work in the mines.“ The other Gnomes nodded at this, and drew closer together. The old Gnome addressed Dorothy. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to conquer Guph?” he asked politely. “He’s almost as bad as Ruggedo was. We’d like Kaliko to be our King again.”

“I don’t see how I could,” answered Dorothy. “The only reason I was able to conquer Ruggedo was that I happened to have some eggs.“ The Gnomes shuddered at the word, for they feared eggs above all things. “You… you don’t happen to have any eggs with you now, do you?” asked Kaliko pleadingly.

“Look in your basket. There might be one there.“ Dorothy shook her head regretfully. “There’re just sandwiches in here. Not even any egg salad.”

“Perhaps Ozma would help us,” suggested Kaliko. “When you get back to the Emerald City, will you ask her for me?”

“Why Ozma…” began Dorothy, but the Lion broke in.

“Of course we will,” he promised briskly. “We’re on our way to visit the Red Jinn of Ev, at present, but as soon as we get back, we’ll be glad to ask her.”

“Yes,” agreed Dorothy, remembering that the Lion did not want the Gnomes to know about Ozma’s disappearance.

“We won’t stop to see Guph, though; we’ll just go now, if you’ll show us the way out.“ Kaliko conducted them through the various passages to the surface. The sun was just setting.

“I’m sorry I can’t ask you to spend the night,” apologized the former Gnome King.

“But I think you’ll be safer if you don’t. Guph has always hated you people of Oz, and he would do you a mischief if he got the opportunity.“ Dorothy realized the truth of this, and was anxious to be away. “Don’t forget to ask Ozma to help me,” reminded Kaliko. Dorothy promised, and bidding him goodbye, they started off.

“Just go east to the ocean and follow the shore south to the Red Jinn’s castle,“ called Kaliko. “You can’t miss it. Goodbye!”

“Everybody is being conquered,” grumbled the Lion. “It’s a regular epidemic. I hope nothing has happened to Jinnicky. I had kinda counted on spending the night with the Gnomes, and having some real food for a change.”

“But it’s so nice to be above the ground again,” answered Dorothy contentedly.

“The air smells so fresh and good after that tunnel. We can stop and eat now, if you’re hungry.”

“Let’s not stop until we get to the ocean,” proposed the Lion, looking over his shoulder uneasily. “I don’t trust Gnomes at all.”

“Neither do I,” returned Dorothy soberly. “Especially not Guph. He was the General of the Army when Ruggedo was King, and he was the one who thought up ways to do all the bad things Ruggedo wanted done.“ It was fully dark by the time they reached the ocean, and feeling safe from pursuit, they spent the night on the warm sands. The Lion was gone when Dorothy awoke, but before long he came back in great excitement.

“Come on!” he panted. “I’ve found something you’ll really appreciate.” Dorothy followed him to a small forest. Stopping under a tree, he waved a paw. “Here’s our breakfast,” he announced. The branches were bent down by the weight of shining dinner pails which the tree bore instead of fruit.

“Why this is like the tree Billina and I found the second time I came to Oz,“ exclaimed the little girl. “Do you suppose it’s the same one?”

“No, you landed farther to the south,” answered the Lion. “It is the same kind though. Pick about six for me and as many as you want for yourself.“ The little girl hurried to pick the pails. Opening hers, she found a fried chicken, hot biscuits and jam, french fried potatoes, asparagus and dessert. Fastened to the lid was a jar containing milk.

“Fried chicken for breakfast,” gloated the Lion, licking his chops.

“Open mine, quick!“ Dorothy opened the Lion’s six buckets, laid the food on a flat stone and poured the milk into one bucket. Then she returned to her own breakfast and ate with a hearty appetite. It was a queer breakfast, but after living on sandwiches for many days, she was not disposed to be critical. The Lion gulped his six dinners and lapped up the milk. “What shall I do with the buckets?” asked Dorothy, when they had finished.

“I’ll dig a hole and plant them,” replied the Lion. “Maybe they’ll grow into new trees.”

When this was accomplished, Dorothy climbed on the Lion’s back. “You’d better take another dinner pail,” advised the Lion. “I don’t know how long it will take us to get to Jinnicky’s, but you’ll probably be hungry before then.“ Dorothy agreed with this, and slid down to comply. When she resumed her place, the Lion started off at a fast trot which fairly ate up the miles. They paused only long enough for the Lion to catch his breath occasionally. At noon they stopped beside a little stream and shared the contents of the dinner pail. Then once again they took up the journey.

Just before dark Dorothy cried out and pointed. There before them was a glittering castle of red glass. The tired Lion broke into a run which brough them to the steps of the castle. Black servants scattered in every direction at the sight of the tawny beast charging at them. Without pausing to explain, the Lion galloped up the steps and into the throne room of the Red Jinn.

CHAPTER IX
AT THE PALACE OF THE RED JINN

“Oh my! Mercy Me!” gasped the Red Jinn; and at once he withdrew into himself. This he could do very easily, for his body was a huge red jug, with holes for his arms and legs.

Instead of a crown he wore a lid, so that when he had drawn in his arms and legs, he looked exactly like an enormous ginger jar.

Dorothy slid from the Lion’s back and attempted to run to Jinnicky, but a perfect army of blacks with ferociously-waving scimitars rushed into the throne room and grouped themselves in front of the throne.

“Jinnicky!” cried the little girl. “Don’t you know us? It’s Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion!“ The little Jinn raised his head cautiously to peer at them. “Why, so it is!” he exclaimed joyously. “Mercy, how you frightened me!” Dismissing the guards, he bounced off his throne and came forward to greet them.

“How are things in the Emerald City? Tell me all about Ozma and the Wizard.

How is the Wizard? I’m so glad you could come to see me. Now I can have all the news of Oz. Have you eaten?“ Dorothy shook her head. “Jinnicky…” she began.

“Haven’t eaten? Why,you must be starved —Ginger! Alibabble! Bring my guests some food. Better bring lots of it.“ Dorothy tried again. “Jinnicky…”

“Oh, that’s all right—I’ve got a good cook, if I do say so, and he’ll be glad to fix up a little snack. It’s no trouble at all. But you were telling me about the Emerald City. Do go on.”

“Well, you see, it’s Ozma,” Dorothy drew a long breath.

“Oh, Ozma sent you?” beamed the little Jinn. “Good. How did you cross the Desert? I don’t have any trouble, of course, in my magic jinnrickshaw—I suppose the Wizard helped you?”

“No, the Wizard…”

“Too busy with other things, I suppose. Tell me, my child,” the little Jinn was struck by a new thought, “what do you hear from Kabumpo? I wish I could get the time to go see him. Still, it’s almost as good to have you hear telling me all about him. I haven’t had any news from Oz in a long time. I wonder how Randy and Planetty are getting along. She certainly is pretty. Tell me more.”

“JINNICKY, SHUT UP!” roared the Lion in desperation.

The little Jinn dived back into his jar at the shock, and the little black boy entering the room dropped his tray and took to his heels. As the Jinn lifted his lid and peeped at the Lion in horror, Dorothy began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” grumbled the Lion, a little ashamed of himself. “If I hadn’t stopped him, he might have gone on like that forever. Listen, Jinnicky—Ozma has disappeared.”

“Disappeared!” gasped the Jinn, popping out of his ,jar. “You don’t mean it! How did it happen? When did she disappear? Do you know who did it?“ The Lion opened his mouth and started to take a deep breath. “Never mind,“ puffed Jinnicky hastily, holding up both hands. “Don’t do it again, please. Tell me all about it, Dorothy, and I won’t say a word.”

“Tell him, Dorothy.” The Lion wandered over to investigate the fallen tray. It had been quite full; there were chops, steaks and roasts scattered about the floor. These the Lion investigated throughly and at considerable length. When they were gone, the Lion, licking his whiskers contently, waddled back in time to hear Dorothy finish, “…so you see, Jinnicky you’re the only one who can save them.“ Jinnicky’s round, merry face looked very grave. “If Faleero conquered the three most powerful persons in Oz, she must have better magic than she did when I met her in Pumperdink. I hope it won’t prove to be stronger than mine.”

“What if it is?” asked Dorothy in distress.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” counseled Jinnicky reassuringly. “We’ll do the best we can, and if she defeats us, we’ll know at least that we tried!”

“That’s just fine,” gulped the Lion. “That cheers me up a lot.“ Jinnicky laughed, slapping the great beast on the back. “Take it easy,” he advised.

“We’re not beaten yet. Don’t forget, I’ve had a lot of time to perfect my magic too.

Besides, she won’t be expecting trouble, so we’ll be able to take her by surprise. That will give us the advantage.”

“We’ll need it,” muttered the Lion glumly.

“How soon can we start back?” put in Dorothy.

“That depends. I’ll have to go over my books and find out what I can about Faleero’s present methods in order to determine the best way to undo her mischief. We can go as soon as I find out—maybe tomorrow, maybe not for a week. It won’t do to barge in unprepared.”

“While you’re at it, you’d better figure out what to do about Pumperdink,“ suggested the Lion, winking at Dorothy, “since we’re not going to hurry, I mean “

“Pumperdink…?”

“Faleero turned it into an ant hill, and the people into ants,” the Lion explained casually.

“Did she do anything to Kabumpo?” asked the Jinn ominously.

“She turned him into a pinching bug.”

“What!?” yelled the Jinn, bouncing to his feet. “That old Gundersnatch! Alibabble! Allibabble! ALIBABBLE!!“ A tall, dignified gentleman with a turban and neat pointed beard stalked into the room. “I wish you wouldn’t shout like that,” he complained querilously. “It’s very hard on my nerves.”

“I’ll shout all I want,” fumed Jinnicky. “Faleero has transformed my old friend Kabumpo into a pinching bug. Get my things ready—I’m going to save him.”

“Why?” asked the Grand Adviser calmly. As the Jinn sputtered in speechless wrath, he went on. “If you are determined to go off and meddle in other peoples’ affairs, I should suggest first that you…”

“If you say one word about a haircut, you’re fired!” shouted Jinnicky, practically dancing with rage.

“Very well, then,” answered Alibabble. “I’ll go—I don’t care to remain with anyone who cares so little about his appearance. I’ve spent the best years of my life trying to keep you looking respectable, and what thanks do I get? Pay me my six months back salary, and I’ll leave at once.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” grumbled the little Jinn. “Where would you get another job? Nobody but me would ever put up with you. Call the barber and let’s get it over with.“ As Alibabble started off, Jinnicky looked kindly at Dorothy. “Did you enjoy your supper, my dear?”

“I didn’t have any,” answered the little girl indignantly.

“I forgot to mention,” remarked the Grand Advisor, pausing in the doorway, “that when Joq brought in the tray, that… that animal frightened him so badly that he hid under his bed and refuses to come out.”

“Well, call someone else,” ordered Jinnicky.

“No one else will come either.”

“Then get it yourself!”

“Your Majesty!” Alibabble drew himself up in an offended manner. “I am the grand Advisor—not a kitchen boy!”

“All right then, I’ll get it myself!” And the little Jinn pattered out of the room, muttering to himself. He returned shortly with a tray which he placed on a small table near Dorothy. “This is the sort of thing I put up with all the time with the incompetent help I have,” he told her in a fierce stage whisper, looking meaningly at the Grand Adviser.

Alibabble sniffed; then, wiping his hands daintily on a lace handkerchief, he clapped twice. A turbanned head was thrust into the room, and the barber’s eyes rolled wildly toward the Lion.

“Oh, come in, come in,” sputtered Jinnicky testily. “The Lion won’t hurt you. He’s a friend of Princess Ozma, and anyway he’s had his supper—but if you do still feel hungry,” he added to the Lion, “you have my permission to finish up with the barber.”

“He does look nice and tender,” murmured the Lion, as the terrified servant edged into the room. “Plump, too.” The barber shot past him in one mighty leap.

Dorothy glanced up from her tray. “Stop scaring him,” she ordered. “If you make him any nervouser, he’ll probably snip off one of Jinnicky’s ears.

Jinnicky turned pale. “Maybe… I don’t n-need a haircut….”

“Your Majesty…” began Alibabble ominously.

“All right, all right! ALL RIGHT!!” The little Wizard of Ev flounced back to his throne. “Cut it!” he ordered.

The barber’s hands shook until he could hardly hold the scissors, but he did manage several trembling snips in the general direction of Jinnicky’s head.

“You haven’t touched the hair yet,” observed Alibabble mildly. Screwing up his courage, the barber made a fresh start. This time long locks of hair fell under his scissors.

The Lion watched for several moments, then stole quietly up behind him and watched over his shoulder. As the last lock of hair fell, he yawned loudly. The barber spun around and stared straight into the wide- open, fang-lined jaws. The Lion closed them with a ringing snap, and the barber threw the scissors over his head and fled screaming from the room. Dorothy and Jinnicky doubled up with laughter, but Alibabble was not amused.

“That’s the third barber in five months,” he snapped.

“There isn’t a person in all Ev who wouldn’t prefer working in the mines to being appointed Court Barber.’

“Who cares? Har-har-har!” gasped Jinnicky wiping his eyes on his red silk handkerchief. “You’re the one who insists on having one. Oh, ho-ho-ho! That was worth having a haircut to see.” Still chuckling, he bounced off the throne and clapped the Lion on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he puffed. “We’ll hurry to Pumperdink and rescue Kabumbo.”

“Oh, Jinnicky, no!” Dorothy ran forward and caught his hand. “We can’t do that— you said we have to take Faleero by surprise. Don’t forget, she has the Magic Picture and Falingo has Glinda’s Book of Records. If we save Pumperdink first, they’ll be sure to find out. Let’s get Ozma back first.”

“You’re right,” agreed Jinnicky, sinking reluctantly back on his throne. “We’ll be asking for trouble if we barge in unprepared. I’ll tell you what—you go to bed, and I’ll study the matter. If I can’t find out what I need to know, we might not leave for several days, but you’d better get all the rest you can now, because we might go tomorrow. It all depends on how quickly I can find out what happened. Alibabble, have Princess Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion conducted to their rooms.” Alibabble summoned a trim little black maid, who led Dorothy to her room and helped her prepare for bed.

“I had better take you to your room myself,” stated the Grand Adviser, looking severely at the Lion. The great beast chuckled silently as he followed Alibabble’s silently disapproving back down a corridor to a large red room with a vast four-poster bed. The tired Lion curled up in the center of the bed and was soon fast asleep; while down in his laboratory, Jinnicky poured over his books of magic until dawn.

CHAPTER X
ALIBABBLE GOES ON STRIKE

When Dorothy met Jinnicky the next morning, the little Jinn’s round face was wreathed in smiles. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?” he inquired cheerfully.

“Just fine,” answered Dorothy. “Did you find out anything? You did; I can tell by your face. Oh, Jinnicky, tell me quickly!”

The Jinn motioned her to a seat. “Yes,” he beamed. “I’m pretty sure I’m on the right track. Faleero has learned some new tricks, but she only uses red magic. Since I invented it, I’m certain I can undo all her wicked spells. There’s very little that I don’t know about red magic. If she had used any other kind, of course, I might be helpless, but as it is, Ozma’s as good as saved.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” declared the Lion, who had entered the room in time to hear only Jinnicky’s last words. “We might as well start back right away, Dorothy, so we’ll be there when Ozma is restored. She might need some help in dealing with Faleero.”

“Now wait a minute-wait a minute,” begged Jinnicky. “It’s not quite that simple.

We have to go to the Emerald City and find out what Faleero did with Ozma before I can do anything to restore her. Then we must overcome Faleero, and undo whatever mischief she might have committed. Then…”

“Help!” groaned the Lion, putting both paws over his ears. “Ozma is as good as saved if we can find her —if you can restore her to herself —if we can overcome Faleero — if we can get to the Emerald City before she knows we’re coming —if we can cross the Desert… Which reminds me,” he interrupted himself abruptly. “Guph might not let us go back through the tunnel— I would even say he probably won’t…. How are we going to get back across the Desert?”

“He won’t,” replied Jinnicky, with grim satisfaction. “Guph and I are not on very good terms these days. In fact he had the audacity to attack my people not long ago.”

“What happened?” gasped Dorothy.

“Why I just used a little of my double-distilled gray incense, and turned a few of his Gnomes into scrambled eggs. He won’t try that again. But I wouldn’t take the chance of putting myself into his power, so we can’t use the tunnel.”

“No,” agreed Dorothy. “Guph hates all the people of Oz, and he’d like nothing better than to conquer us. We’ll have to go some other way—but how?”

“My magic Jinnrickshaw wouldn’t hold us all,” mused the Jinn. “You and I could ride in it, but the Lion is much too big.“ The Cowardly Lion gulped, but spoke bravely. “You and Dorothy go in the magic Jinnricksaw,” he quavered. “I’ll take Guph by surprise and get in the tunnel before he can stop me. I’ll meet you at the Emerald City.”

“No!” Dorothy flung her arms around his neck. “Something might happen to you. Let’s all stay together.”

“That’s right,” approved the little Jinn. “We’ll all go together, and we’ll cross the Desert when we come to it.”

“How?” inquired the Lion.

“I haven’t decided yet—in fact, I haven’t the faintest idea. We’ll worry about it when we have to. Our first problem is how to find Ozma when we get to the Emerald City. We know she has been transformed into another shape.”

“How do we know that?” asked Dorothy. “She may have vanished, or been sent far away from the Emerald City. How  will we ever know her even if we do find her?” The little girl was close to tears. “I don’t think Faleero sent her away. Now I may be wrong, but this is what I think she would do:

“First: She wanted to rule Oz, so she had to do away with Ozma.

“Second: She was out for revenge, and she’d want Ozma to suffer. Sending her away wouldn’t satisfy Faleero—she would want Ozma right there where she could see everything that was happening to her people. I think Ozma is right there at the Palace in some form that can see and hear, but can’t speak. We must look for something that wasn’t there before… a statue, a tree, or even a flower.”

“That’s awful!” choked Dorothy. “She must be perfectly miserable. Let’s go and save her quickly.”

“We will,” consoled Jinnicky. “We’ll get there as soon as we can. But that brings us to the second problem: How to get there. I am not a very good walker.” He looked ruefully at his small slippered feet.

“You might be able to ride on my back with Dorothy,” suggested the Lion doubtfully. “Or, if you can’t ride together, you could take turns.”

“Oh, no,” objected Dorothy quickly. “You’d be worn out. Maybe if you wouldn’t mind pulling it—maybe Jinnicky has a little cart.”

“The very thing!” Jinnicky bounced up. “We’ll start at once. Alibabble! Confound that fellow; he’s never around when I want him. ALIBABBLE!!“ The Grand Adviser stalked in at his customary dignified pace. “I trust this is important, your majesty,” he began severely. “You know my duties do not begin until nine o’clock, and it is now only eight forty five.”

“Nonsense!” sputtered Jinnicky. “I never heard of such a thing. Your duties begin when I call you and end when I send you away.”

“Not any more,” returned Alibabble firmly. “I have drawn up a contract stating the hours I shall work and the rate of pay I wish to receive. I find that this steady grind is underminding my state of health.“ The Grand Adviser took a slip of paper from his sleeve and presented it to the little Jinn.

Jinnicky impatiently struck the paper from his hand. Alibabble retrieved it calmly, and held it out again. The little Jinn snatched it savagely and began to read: “Forty hour week, with time and a half for overtime,” he snorted. “What for? You don’t work forty minutes a week now!”

“You forget that I must be at your beck and call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year.” Alibabble began to sob into his lace handkerchief.

“I never have a moment to call my own. I never have a holiday or a vacation.” He dried his tears and pointed a long, bony finger at the Jinn. “If you are not willing to meet my terms, I’ll go on strike…!”

“Mercy!” breathed Jinnicky faintly. “What… what does that mean?”

“I’m not quite sure,” admitted Alibabble, “But that’s what they do in America.”

“It means he won’t work any more,” explained Dorothy helpfully.

“Oh, is that all…?” grunted Jinnicky, much relieved. “He doesn’t work now— never has. And as for a vacation,” he shouted, “where were you all last month?”

“Visiting my mother-in-law,” sulked Alibabble. “Nobody can call that a vacation”

“I can,” Jinnicky asserted stoutly. “You just go off whenever you feel like it without a word to me: I can shout my head off for you for hours before anyone thinks to tell me you’re gone. And look at this salary…!” he puffed, striking the paper with his fist.

“It’s not as much as you’re getting now! You mean it’s not as much as I’m supposed to get,” sobbed the Grand Adviser. “I haven’t had a cent for six months….”

“And whose fault is that?” sniffed Jinnicky. “Who took the keys to the treasury away from me because I wasn’t careful enough—and who lost them? Just tell me that!“ He sank triumphantly into a chair and wiped his forehead.

“Yes, your Majesty,” answered Alibabble humbly. “What are your Majesty’s wishes?”

“That’s better,” approved Jinnicky. “Now, suppose we get down to business. I want a cart, light enough for the Lion to pull easily, and strong enough to carry Princess Dorothy and me.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” murmured Alibabble. Crushed and defeated he backed out of the room, bowing at every step.

Jinnicky turned to Dorothy, glowing with satisfaction. “I handled that pretty well, didn’t I?” he gloated. Weak with suppressed laughter, Dorothy could only nod helplessly.

“The fellow is simply insufferable!” snorted the Jinn. “If I didn’t put him in his place occasionally, there’d be no living with him.”

“It must be difficult to get along without being able to get into the treasury,“ remarked the Lion, regarding the Jinn rather suspiciously. “I should think you could have a new set of keys made.“ Jinnicky put a fat finger to his lips. Looking around cautiously, he pulled a set of keys out of his sleeve. “It’s not as difficult as you might think,” he whispered. “I’ve had them all the while; I took them while Alibabble was asleep.”

The Lion snorted and Dorothy bit her thumb, and Jinnicky quickly tucked the keys back into his sleeve just as Alibabble returned. “The cart will be ready in,five minutes,” he announced, regarding the three excessively innocent expressions confront-ing him with disapproval. “Will there be anything else?“ Jinnicky began to scribble furiously on the back of Alibabble’s contract. When he finished, he thrust the paper at the Grand Adviser, who took it and bowed out of the room.

“And don’t forget my red umbrella…!” Jinnicky called after him. In a few minutes Alibabble was back, carrying the red umbrella and a silver dinner bell. Handing these to Jinnicky, he led the way outside. Two black workmen were putting the finishing touches on a gay, two-wheeled, wicker cart. Five black servants, each holding a tray loaded with jars and bottles, stood beside it. As the workmen finished and stepped back, they began to stow these jars and bottles in the back of the cart.

Dorothy and Jinnicky took their places on the seat in front, while the Lion, grumbling to himself, was harnessed to the shafts. Jinnicky half-turned in his seat, pulling the treasury keys from his sleeve. “Let’s go,” he called.

The Lion started off with a rush; and at the same moment, Jinnicky tossed the keys to Alibabble. As they sped down the street, thronged by the Jinn’s cheering black subjects, the last thing Dorothy saw was the face of the Grand Adviser, glaring after them with an expression of unexpressable outrage.

Half a mile from the palace, the Lion stopped abruptly and turned his head to regard his passengers with disfavor. “Listen here!” he demanded. “I don’t mind pulling this wagon like a draft horse—much—but don’t you think you’re going to sit back there laughing like loons all the way to the Emerald City. What’s so funny?”

Helpless with laughter, the Jinn motioned Dorothy to answer. Heroically she choked back another case of giggles and explained. “…and you should have seen his face!” she finished, with difficulty, starting to break up all over again.

“I’ll never dare go back,” puffed Jinnicky gleefully. “he’ll never forgive me— never…!”

“You two act like a couple of Hottentots,” growled the Lion. “It’s a good thing for Oz that you have me along with you— you’d probably forget where you were going and why.” Suppressing his own grin, he faced front and started off at a steady trot that took them over the ground at an amazing rate. The wicker cart, light and sturdy, hindered him not at all and by noon, when they stopped to rest, they estimated that they were more than half way to the Desert.

“Though how we’re going to cross it when we get there is more than I can see,“ the Lion remarked. He drew a long breath of relief when Dorothy unhitched him, then flopped down in the grass to roll.

“I have always wondered why horses roll when they are unharnessed,” teased the Jinn. “I bet you can tell me now.“ The Lion stood and shook himself vigorously. He regarded Jinnicky with mock earnestness. “I can,” he replied, “but I’ll do even better than that—this afternoon I’ll let you pull the cart. That way you can find out first hand.”

The Jinn chuckled softly. Pulling out a small silver bell from his sleeve, he rang it three times. Out of nowhere sprang up a small black boy with an enormous turban. He was carrying a tray which he placed before Dorothy. Then, flashing them a smile, he vanished, to reappear immediately with another tray which he set before the Jinn. Again he vanished, and after a somewhat longer interval, he reappeared, staggering under a huge tray laden with rare steak and underdone roasts. He lowered it carefully to the ground in front of the Lion. With another dazzeling smile, he was gone.

The Lion looked after him dreamily. “You know, I like that fellow,” he confided.

“He doesn’t waste time arguing or asking questions. He just plunks a good meal down in front of you and takes himself away. Jinnicky, why don’t you fire Alibabble and hire Ginger instead.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do without Alibabble,” laughed the little Jinn. “Life would be so dull without his tantrums. I keep myself amused for days just fighting with him. Anyway, Ginger is very well satisfied as he is; I don’t think he’d be my Grand Adviser for anything.”

“Neither would I,” chuckled the Lion, as he settled down to work on his tray.

His dinner over, Jinnicky jumped up and approached the cart. He thrust the dinner bell under the seat, then turned to Dorothy. “Here’s something I bet the Wizard can’t do,“ he announced. “Watch.” He blew sharply on the cart, which in the twinkling of an eye shrank until it was lost to sight in the grass. The Lion’s ears stood up very straight as Jinnicky stooped and picked up the cart.

“What did you do that for?” he asked.

The Jinn grinned. “I’m going to take a nap, and I don’t want all my magic left out where anyone can find it. Here…” he handed the cart to Dorothy. “Put it in your pocket, and we can all rest a while without anything to worry about.“ Dorothy glanced curiously at the tiny cart, and slipped it into her pocket. Jinnicky stretched out on the grass and pulled his head into his jar. Soon loud snores rumbled through the lid. Dorothy and the Lion regarded each other in consternation.

“He sounds like an earthquake,” observed the Lion mildly. “Well, he didn’t get much sleep last night; he’s entitled to a nap. Come on, Dorothy; let’s look around until he wakes up.“ The little girl looked over her shoulder as they started off. “Do you think we should leave him here alone?” she wondered apprehensively.

“Why not?” grunted the Lion carelessly. “We won’t go far. Anyway, the racket he’s making would scare anything away from him.“ Dorothy laughed and followed the Lion up a steep hill. At the top they paused in wonder. The valley below was dotted with strange and beautiful flowers. With a cry of delight, Dorothy ran down the hill to them, the Lion at her heels.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything like them. I’m going to pick some and take them back to Jinnicky.“ She caught at the stem of the nearest flower and pulled. It resisted with surprising strength. The Lion watched her struggles for a moment, then took a stem between his teeth and attempted to bite it off.

“I never saw such tough plants,” panted Dorothy, tugging vainly at the flower. The Lion, his ears laid back, teeth clenched, was leaning back with all his strength, jerking viciously at the stubborn stem.

A sound in the air above her head made Dorothy look upward. “Look!” she cried.

Several of the flowers had started to grow rapidly, expanding to tremendous size. Suddenly they turned downward and started growing swiftly directly at them!

“Run!” called the Lion hoarsely. But before they could move, the flowers were upon them. Swiftly, irresistibly, with gentle firmness, the petals closed about them, enfolding them ever tighter and more immovably into darkness.

CHAPTER XI
BY ORDER OF HER MAJESTY

“What is the meaning of this!“ Betsy jumped, and turned around to see Faleero standing in the doorway.

“Why, Ozma!” she stuttered. “How you startled me! I thought you were in the garden.”

“Is that why you were snooping in my rooms?”

“I wasn’t snooping!” exclaimed Betsy indignantly. “I just wanted to look at the Magic Picture. You always let me before.”

“Don’t argue with me!” returned Faleero furiously. “You were snooping. You and your friends are continually spying on me and whispering to each other about me. I’ve had all I’m going to stand. You’re leaving the Palace today! You can tell Trot and Cap’n Bill to go with you. I don’t want to see any of you again. Now get out of here! Get out!”

As Betsy turned dazedly toward the door, Faleero seized her arm; thrusting her out of the room, she slammed the door shut. “That’ll show her,” she panted. “And that’s only the beginning. I’ll clear the Palace of everyone but the servants, and then I’ll start on the Emerald City. The people will work from morning ‘til night, and anyone who defies me will be thrown into prison!“ Betsy fled down the hall to Trot’s room.

“I think Ozma has gone crazy, Trot!” she cried. “Something is terribly wrong.“ Trot listened to the story with concern. “Maybe Ozma was trying to fool you,” she suggested hopefully.

“She wasn’t fooling,” Betsy insisted. “She almost threw me out of her room.

Something has happened to her. She’s been acting strangely ever since we got back from Sapphire City.”

“That’s true,” agreed Trot. “But surely she didn’t really mean for us to leave the Palace-why, we live here.”

“Not any more,” declared Betsy. “She said we should leave the Palace today. She doesn’t ever want to see us again.”

“I can’t understand it,” puzzled Trot. “She liked to have us here; she asked us to stay.”

“Well, now she’s asked us to go,” returned Betsy grimly. “I think we’d better get out quickly before we meet her again.”

“Let’s find Cap’n Bill and see what he thinks.” Trot jumped up. They found Cap’n Bill in the throne room, standing before a poster which two soldiers were just putting up.

“Listen to this, Trot,” he said, as they came up to him. “‘By Order of her Majesty, Ozma of Oz:

‘All persons now living in the Palace, not employed in the care and upkeep of the Palace, will leave immediately. Suitable employment will be provided for them in the Emerald City.

‘Singing and dancing are not allowed in the Emerald City. Decorous laughter will be permitted between the hours of 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. only. Parties or gatherings of any kind are strictly prohibited.

‘All persons in the Emerald City are commanded to seek employment. Anyone found on the street without permission will be imprisoned.

‘Half of each person’s income is to begiven to the Queen.‘“ The old sailor scratched his ear. “Does that make any sense to you, Trot?“ Before the girl could reply, one of the soldiers touched her hand imploringly.

“Don’t answer,” he begged. “I have been ordered to arrest anyone who criticizes these laws.“ Trot studied his face gravely. “Would you do it?”

“I wouldn’t want to,” protested the soldier, “but the orders were very definite.”

“Where did you come from?” asked Betsy. “I’ve never seen any soldiers around here before—except for the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and he’s not really a soldier kind of soldier.”

“The army was only formed this morning,” the soldier explained. “Ozma is going to put the Emerald City under martial law until she finds that everyone is obeying her orders. Then she plans to conquer each of the four countries as well.”

“What does she want to do that for?” gasped Cap’n Bill. “All the four countries belong to her anyway.”

“She wants everyone to go to work and send half their goods to her. You know that no one will believe that of her until they are conquered and martial law is set up all over Oz. I’m not sure I believe it myself—and I’m to carry it out…!”

“But what’s the point of it all?” asked Cap’n Bill plaintively. “I can’t understand it!”

“Neither can I,” confessed the soldier. “I’ve never heard of anything like this in all Oz. I’ve never seen Ozma before, myself; I come from the Munchkin country and I’ve never been in the Emerald City before, but I’ve always heard that Ozma was good and kind and that the people all loved her.”

“She used to be kind and good,” mused Betsy, “and all her subjects did love her. Lately, though, she’s changed. She’s grown—well—different. She’s not the Ozma we loved.”

“Let’s find the Wizard,” suggested Trot suddenly. “Maybe he can tell us what it’s all about.”

“The Wizard left yesterday,” answered Cap’n Bill. “I don’t know where he went, but he said he’d be gone for several days.”

“Well, let’s pack up and get out of here, then,” said Betsy hopelessly. “Ozma doesn’t want us to see her again, and I don’t much want to see her myself,“she added, half to herself.

“Well, I do!” declared Trot with determination. “I’m going to see her right now and find out what’s wrong with her.”

“That’s the ticket,” agreed Cap’ n Bill. “Let’s get a straight bill of goods from her. There must be a reason for her to throw us out like this.“ He stamped out of the throne room, his wooden leg thumping angrily on the polished floor. The girls followed him silently to the door of Ozma’s rooms. Here they were stopped by a guard.

“Out of the way,” commanded Cap’n Bill. “We’ve come to see Ozma.”

“You can’t,” answered the guard. “My orders were to keep everyone away.”

“Why?” asked Trot in astonishment.

“She said,” stammered the guard in embarrassment, “she said she didn’t want anyone to come bothering her—especially you three.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Trot. “I’m going to talk to her.” Slipping past the guard, she rapped on the door.

It opened promptly, revealing Faleero, her face distorted with anger. Fiercely she berated the guard; then she turned on the three friends. ‘“I’ll give you just five minutes to leave the Palace! If you are found on the grounds at the end of that time, I’ll have you imprisoned! Get out of here, and don’t ever come back!”

“What’s come over you?” demanded Trot. “Why are you acting like this?“ Beside herself with rage, Faleero slapped her. Then, stepping back, she slammed the door, leaving the child standing there, a hand pressed to her cheek.

“You’d better go,” urged the guard anxiously. “She might come out again and find you still here.“ Trot turned stiffly. Without looking at any of them, she walked away. Betsy ran after her and caught her arm. “Oh, Trot!” she sobbed, “how could Ozma do such a thing?”

“That isn’t Ozma,” answered Trot in a queer voice.

“What’s that?” gulped Cap’n Bill. “Trot, honey… you feel all right? Here, let me feel your forehead.“ Trot jerked away from his hand. “I said that’s not Ozma,” she repeated.“I don’t know who it is, but I do know that no matter what happened, Ozma would never strike me. She’d never turn us out, either. Ozma’s gone, and somebody is taking her place. She looks like Ozma, but she’s not.“ Cap’n Bill considered this statement carefully. He had the greatest respect for Trot’s judgment; moreover, living in a fairyland, he knew that many strange things could happen. “What shall we do?” he asked presently, accepting her theory.

“We must go tell Glinda,” answered Trot, “and we’ll go right now.” Outside the Palace they saw many of the green-clad soldiers moving through the city streets. Some were tacking up posters bearing the new laws; others were stopping children’s games.

Twice they saw protesting citizens being led away.

“That proves it,” declared Betsy. “Ozma wouldn’t allow anything like this. She wouldn’t even keep an army, except for the Soldier with the Green Whiskers.”

“We should have figured it out sooner,” fretted Trot. “The day we came back from Sapphire City we should have know that wasn’t Ozma.”

“I’m sorta glad it turned out this way,” Betsy remarked. “It would be worse if Ozma could ever act so mean.“ Trot and Cap’n Bill agreed heartily. The strain of the past few days had been hard on them all. But now, knowing that their beloved Ruler had not turned against them, they felt they could face any hardship.

“I don’t like all these soldiers,” worried Cap’n Bill. “I hope they won’t try to stop us from leaving the city.”

“I hadn’t thought of that!” exclaimed Trot. “Maybe we’d better wait ‘til night and climb over the wall.”

“We might get caught,” objected Betsy. “Then they’d know we were up to something. If we just walk out openly, it won’t seem so suspicious.”

“That’s the best way,” decided Cap’n Bill. “If they do stop us, we can still try to get out at night. But we probably won’t have any trouble.“ To their great relief, they were not stopped. The Guardian of the Gate let them pass without question, wishing them a pleasant journey. Once outside the city, they turned their faces southward.

CHAPTER XII
LOST IN A STRANGE LAND

Half smothered in the enfolding petals, Dorothy could neither move nor cry out.

She thought she felt a sensation of upward motion like that of an elevator. After what seemed like hours, the flower suddenly opened, spilling her carelessly out upon the soft ground She scrambled to her feet just in time to see another flower open and the Lion tumble out. He was too deeply outraged even to roar.

He rolled over, gasping for breath, and fixed a reproachful eye on Dorothy. “Let’s get back to Jinnicky,” he puffed. “That is, if you don’t want to pick any more flowers.“ Then, after a quick look around, he covered his eyes with his paws and groaned.

“What’s the matter?” cried Dorothy, falling on her knees beside him. The Lion uncovered his eyes and stood. “Take a look around us and see if it looks the same to you as it does to me.” Obediently Dorothy stood and looked about. Then she turned back to the Lion with an expression of despair.

“I know,” he said gently. “Where do you suppose we are?” They stood on a hill in a strange, rosy land. As far as they could see, the hills and valleys were a soft rose pink.

Even the trees, with their lovely feathery branches, were of the same roseate hue. In the distance—Dorothy looked and pointed-far to the North was a shimmering, rose-colored castle.

The Lion peered at it, squinting earnestly. “We’d better go there,” he decided finally. “Maybe we’ll find somebody to tell us where we are and how to get back to Jinnicky. “ Dorothy sighed as they started down the hill. It seemed that everything was conspiring to keep her from the Emerald City and Ozma. Even if the inhabitants of the pink castle proved friendly, and could tell them how to get back to the place where they left Jinnicky, how could she know that Jinnicky would still be there? What if he woke up and started looking for them? They could miss each other in that vast land, and they might search for months without finding one another.

And meanwhile, Ozma was gone, and Faleero…. A big tear rolled down the little girl’s cheek. She brushed it away and began looking around at the scenery in order to forget her troubles.

It was a beautiful country. Even in the midst of her worry, Dorothy realized that she had never seen a lovelier place. The soft pink branches swaying gently in the breeze looked like ostrich plumes. The ground, she noticed in surprise, was not solid, but was spongy and porous, looking for all the world like cotton candy from the circus, or beaten egg whites. It was soft and springy; indeed, they fairly bounced down one hill and up the next.

“It won’t take us long at this rate,” puffed the Lion. “We’ll be at the castle before we know it.“ Dorothy laughed; the sight of the Lion jouncing beside her did much to lift her spirits. They had been through many troubled times together, she remembered, and everything had always turned out right.

This would too, she was sure; and meanwhile, she might as well enjoy her new experiences.

“What kind of people do you think live here?” she asked.

“Jumping jacks,” panted the Lion. “Did you ever walk on anything like this before in your life?”

“It’s like bouncing on a big bed,” agreed Dorothy, “but it’s fun, I think. We go so fast.”

“Too fast,” the Lion grumbled. “It’s not dignified. We’ll make a great impression on the people, bouncing in on them like this.”

“Oh, well; they probably bounce too,” consoled the little girl. “We’ve almost reached the castle now. Isn’t it pretty!“ They paused at the foot of the hill. Above them loomed the strange roseate castle, glowing in the sun. Flags flew from the many spires, but not a single person was in sight, nor could they hear a voice. “I wonder if anyone lives there,” puzzled Dorothy.

“There’s something very queer about it,” muttered the Lion darkly. “It just doesn’t look right….”

“It hasn’t got any doors!” exclaimed Dorothy. “How will we get in?”

“I’m not quite as sure as I was that I want to,” gulped the Lion. “Let’s leave.”

“Nonsense!” Dorothy stamped her foot—which bounced her three feet into the air.

“Don’t be silly; we’re going up there. Someone must live inside, and maybe they can help us.“ The Lion resignedly started up the hill; Dorothy followed. “Maybe it isn’t real,“ answered the Lion hopefully. “Maybe it’s just a dream castle.“ Dorothy pinched herself. “I’m not dreaming,” she told him resentfully. “That hurt.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” chuckled the Lion. “Never mind pinching me. Well, we’re here; what shall we do about it?”

“Let’s walk around the castle ‘til we come to a door,” proposed the little girl determinedly. “There must be some way in.“ They started around the castle, pausing now and then to admire the jewels studding the walls. After walking for about twenty minutes, the Lion stopped. “We’ve been all the way around,” he grunted. “This is where we started.” Dorothy wondered how he knew. It all looked alike to her, but she knew the Lion was never mistaken in matters of this kind.

Sinking to the ground, she stared at the smooth pink stones in baffled silence. The Lion studied the wall for a moment. Then, shutting his eyes, he walked determinedly into it, bumping his nose most cruelly.

“What on earth did you do that for?” cried Dorothy, jumping up and running to him.

“I thought perhaps it was an illusion,” muttered the Lion vexedly, looking cross-eyed at his nose. “Remember the wall around Thistle City that wasn’t there?”

“Well, this one certainly is,” murmured Dorothy, rubbing his nose gently. “Maybe if we yell, someone would come let us in.”

“You yell,” returned the Lion. “My nose hurts too much.“ Dorothy called and called as loudly as she could. The Lion, too, forgot his sore nose, and roared until the very walls seemed to quiver.

“It’s no use,” sighed Dorothy at last. “I guess no one lives here. We may as well leave.“ Wearily they trudged down the hill. At the bottom, Dorothy turned to take a last look at the castle. Suddenly she saw, issuing from the high windows, column after column of winged men. The Lion, turning at the same moment, saw them too.

“Jump on my back,” he roared. “Let’s get out of here.“ Dorothy obeyed, and the Lion bounded off, ears flat to his head. “See if they’re still after us,” he panted.

Dorothy turned. The air seemed black with the flying men. “I think they’re getting closer,” she quavered.

“If we can just get to the woods….” The Lion did not finish, but redoubled his efforts. “See where they are now.“ As Dorothy turned, she felt strong arms seize her, and she was swept into the air, struggling and kicking. As she was carried high above the Lion, she saw one of the winged men throw a net over him and skillfully roll him up in it. Three others swooped down. Together they lifted the beast and started back to the castle.

In despair, Dorothy stopped struggling. “That’s better,” remarked an approving voice in her ear. Turning her head slightly, she looked up at the man who had captured her. His face was friendly and gentle, and the little girl felt some of her fear leave her.

“Don’t be frightened,” he urged. “I won’t hurt you. Who are you, and what are you doing in Cumuland?”

“I am Princess Dorothy of Oz,” she replied proudly. “Who are you, and why have you captured us?”

“My name is Boag,” answered the man, “and I only captured you because my King; ordered me to.“ Dorothy had no answer for this. They reached the castle, entering through the tall windows. The four men carrying the Lion laid him gently on the floor and unwound the net from around him.

Shaken and, breathless as he was, he staggered to his feet and thrust himself between Dorothy and the soldiers. A murmur of admiration went up from the soldiers at his action.  Boag, who seemed to be in charge, smiled encouragingly at the little girl.

“Don’t be alarmed, Princess Dorothy. None of us will harm you. The King ordered you seized and brought to the castle.”

“What did he do that for?” snarled the Lion bitterly. “We were doing our best to get in. Why didn’t he just let us in then, instead of sending an army after us?”

“I don’t know,” sighed Boag. “Gip is very strange in many ways. We, as his subjects, must obey him even though we do not always approve.”

“Is he a good king?” asked Dorothy timidly.

Boag was silent for a moment, the smile gone from his face. “We Cumulanders are a friendly, kind-hearted people. Our king is not.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” remarked one of the men.

A glance from Boag silenced him. “They’ll find out for themselves soon enough,“ he said shortly.

The Lion looked wisely at Boag. “In other words,your King is a wicked, hard-hearted man, and everyone is afraid of him.” Boag nodded gloomily. ’ If he is such a bad king, why don’t you get rid of him?” asked Dorothy.

Boag pretended not to hear. Dismissing the guardsmen, he led Dorothy and the Lion into a small chamber. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked. They assured him that they were not hungry.

Boag paced back and forth nervously for a few minutes. Then, coming to a decision, he pulled up a chair and sat down facing them. “I am going to tell you about our King,” he began abruptly. “Since you must be magicians, I hope you will be able to help us.” Dorothy opened her lips to speak, but Boag motioned her to be silent.

“Many years ago Cumuland was ruled by a good King, our present King’s brother.

He and the Queen were greatly beloved by all the people. When their little son was still an infant, the King and Queen disappeared. Everyone searched for them; for years we looked everywhere.

“In the meantime, as the prince was too small to rule over the country, Gip, his uncle, took his place.

“At length we gave up all hope of ever finding the King and Queen. And Gip ruled the country wisely and well for the first few years. But as his power grew, he became harsh and cruel, so that our only hope was the young prince, Rory.

“Last year, the day before his twelfth birthday, Rory also disappeared, and no one has been able to find him.” Boag stopped and looked at them expectantly. Dorothy was bewildered. “How can we help you?” she asked. “If all the people in Cumuland weren’t able to find the prince, how do you think two strangers can succeed?”

“With your magic, of course,” returned Boag calmly. “It must be very powerful magic indeed, or you would not be here now. One of the first things Gip did was to enchant Cumuland in such away that no one could enter or leave. The very fact that you are here proves that your magic is greater than Gip’s.“ The Lion rose. “Magic!” he muttered. “If I had any magic I wouldn’t use it to come here.” Shaking his head bitterly, he crossed the room and thrust his great head out a window.

Boag looked after him in bewilderment. “What does he mean?” he asked. “Aren’t you magicians?”

“No,” Dorothy answered gently. “Our coming here was an accident. We are not magicians, and I don’t see how we can help you. Why didn’t you appeal to Ozma when your King disappeared?”

“Who is Ozma?” asked Boag.

“Don’t you know?” Dorothy was shocked. “Ozma is the Ruler of all Oz. Anyone in or near Oz is entitled to her protection.“ Boag smiled sadly. “Cumuland is not in Oz,” he returned. “It is one of the sky countries, and would not be under Ozma’s protection.”

CHAPTER XIII
IN THE HANDS OF THE WICKED KING

For a moment Dorothy was too horrified to answer.

At that moment a page entered. “The King wishes the prisoners to be brought to him,” he announced. Boag nodded.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered to Dorothy. “We’ll do everything in our power to help you. Don’t anger Gip, if you can help it, but don’t let him think you’re afraid of him, either.”

“I won’t,” promised the little girl bravely. Taking hold of the Lion’s mane to steady her trembling knees, she followed Boag and the page down the long corridor.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” remarked the Lion. Dorothy nodded, for accustomed as she was to the splendor of the Emerald Palace, the beauty of her surroundings almost took her breath away. The walls were of smooth, creamy pink stone. The doors opening into the corridor were framed with velvety-soft rose drapes, and the rooms beyond were magnificent.

At the end of the corridor was a great double door. Boag stopped and motioned to the page who had stepped through the doorway. Then Boag turned again to Dorothy.

“Even though you say you have no magic, I still feel sure that you were sent here to save our country. You will help us, won’t you?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” returned Dorothy. “If Gip is as bad as you’say, he oughtn’t be allowed to rule such a lovely country.”

“Now look, Dorothy,” began the Lion uneasily, “let’s not start any trouble. Let’s get back to the Emerald City and rescue Ozma. She can take care of this King. After all it’s her business to rule Oz, not ours.”

“But we’re not in Oz,” returned the little girl soberly. “We’re in a country in the sky.“ The Lion’s legs sagged, and he dropped to the floor. “I give up,” he moaned.

“Everything happens to me. Now I suppose we have to conquer this country if we ever want to get away?“ Dorothy could not help laughing. “Just the King,” she answered. “The country’s all right.” She looked at Boag. “You didn’t say so, but I gather that you feel Gip is responsible for the disappearance of Rory as well as the King and Queen.”

“That’s right,” answered Boag promply. “We think that he destroyed the King and Queen; but we still have hopes of finding Rory. You see…” He stopped as the door opened and the page returned.

“Take the prisoners in,” the page ordered. “The King wishes to question them before…” he paused in embarrassment.

“Before what?” asked Dorothy.

“Before he throws you off the skyle,” gulped the page.

“Just let him try it!” roared the Lion, springing to his feet. “‘Just let him try it! I’ll tear him to pieces…!” He pushed past Boag and entered the throne room. Lashing his tail and snarling under his breath, he strode down the room toward the throne. Dorothy followed more slowly, admiring the elegance and beauty around her. From the door to the throne ran a thick, soft carpet. On either side stood men and women, all fairskinned and golden haired. Like the soldiers, these too had golden wings, and all were beautifully dressed in rose-colored silk and velvet. Some seemed alarmed at the sight of the Lion, but most looked compassionately at Dorothy. All the faces wore expressions of deep sorrow, which Dorothy understood when she saw the king.

He sat on a throne carved from a single glowing pink stone. His crown was cut from the same material. He was fair skinned and blond like the others; but instead of the kindly expression of his subjects, his face was harsh and stern. His mouth was a thin straight line, and the cruelty in his eyes made Dorothy shiver.

The Lion had reached the foot of the throne and was studying Gip. Clearly he did not like what he saw. “How dare you make us prisoners?” he demanded. “Set us free immediately, or it will be the worse for you.“ Gip blinked, plainly surprised by the Lion’s boldness. “Who are you?” he asked, with unaccustomed politeness.

“This is Dorothy, Princess of Oz,” replied the Lion grandly, “and I am the Cowardly Lion of Oz. We, are under the protection of Ozma, ruler of Oz, who will punish you well if we are harmed in any way.”

“How did you come to Cumuland?” asked Gip, puzzled by the prisoners’ lack of fear, and uncertain as to his power over them.

“It was no trouble,” returned the Lion in an off-hand manner. Gip’s cruel eyes turned to Dorothy. Here at least was one small enough to be easily frightened. “How dare you enter Cumuland without my permission?“ Dorothy was not to be intimidated. “Why should we need your permission?” she asked boldly.

“I am the King of Cumuland!” shouted Gip. “Everyone in my kingdom is subject to me.”

“Well, we’re not your subjects, and we don’t intend to be,” retorted Dorothy angrily. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let us go.”

“How dare you threaten me, you wingless earth-crawler?” hissed the infuriated monarch. “Don’t you realize that I am the King?”

“You’re not my King,” retorted Dorothy. “In fact, you’re not a King at all, and you know it.“ Gip goggled at her, his face turning crimson. “You impertinent mortal!” he sputtered. “Do you think you can set yourself against me? Taggle, have this foolish creature taken to the dungeon. I’ll attend to her later.”

“She’s only a child, your Majesty,” pleaded the old Counseler.

“She doesn’t realize…”

“Silence!” snapped Gip. “Carry out my orders.“ Taggle looked at Dorothy for a moment, then shook his head. “I won’t do it,” he declared. “She only spoke the truth.”

“That’s right,” chimed in the Lion approvingly. “She only spoke the truth, didn’t she, Gip? Where is the real King? Where is Rory?“ Gip gasped, white with mingled fear and rage. “I know nothing about Rory,” he cried. “I had nothing to do with his disappearance.”

“Nobody said you did,” put in the Lion smoothly. “You’re the one who brought that up.“ With an effort, Gip regained his composure. “Enough of this,” he thundered. He pressed a button at the side of his throne. In a moment the doors at the end of the room were thrown open and the guard swarmed in. “Arrest these interlopers,” he commanded.

“Take them to the dungeon—and Taggle with them.“ The guard, who had started to surge forward, stopped short. “Not Taggle…!“ exclaimed one.

“Yes, Taggle!” shouted Gip. “He is guilty of treachery to me and his country.

“Not to his country,” exclaimed Dorothy. “You’re the one who’s guilty of that… You are responsible for Rory’s disappearance, aren’t you. Where is he?“ For a moment Gip seemed ready to strike her. The Lion slipped quietly between them. Gip eyed him for a moment; then turned to the guardsmen. “I know nothing of Rory’s disappearance,” he said quietly. “Take them away.“ The guardsmen advanced obediently, only to be brought to a halt by the sight of the Lion. Ears flat against his head, and tail lashing angrily, he crouched in front of Dorothy with lips curled back to show his strong teeth. The guardsmen backed away hastily.

The Lion turned to Gip. “If anyone lays a hand on Dorothy, I’ll tear you to bits,“ he threatened. “Dismiss the guard and let us go in peace.“ Gip seized his scepter and pointed it at the Lion. There was a sharp click; the Lion stiffened suddenly, fell on his side, twitched a moment and lay still.

“Oh!” wailed Dorothy.

“You’ve killed him.“ Catching up a candlestick, she hurled it at the monarch. Gip ducked and pointed his scepter at her. As it clicked, she snatched up another candlestick and threw it, followed by a plate and a card receiver.

“Seize that girl!” roared Gip, rubbing his head where the second candlestick had landed. Two guards caught Dorothy’s arms and held her fast.

Gip looked at his scepter and shook it, seeming much puzzled. Finally he pointed it at a man at the back of the room; this unfortunate stiffened and fell as had the Lion. Gip nodded with satisfaction and pointed it again at Dorothy. Both guards dropped her arms and retreated. Finding herself free, Dorothy looked around for something else to throw.

As she reached for a statuette, the guards caught her arms again.

Gip threw down his scepter and glared at her, the big purple bruise on his forehead adding to his wrath. “Take her away!” he screamed. “Throw her in a dark cell.”

“The Lion too?” asked Boag.

“The Lion too! Take them both—and take Taggle! Take all three!” Four big guardsmen picked up the Lion. Dorothy’s guards led her gently away. Taggle followed, a guard on either side. The rest of the guardsmen, at a sign from Boag, fell in behind them.

“I think it’s a shame,” grumbled one of the men, as the door swung shut behind them. “Putting a child in a dark cell… Let’s take them out and let them go, Hob.“ Dorothy looked up hopefully, but Hob shook his head. “Where would they go? Gip would only catch them again. “

“Couldn’t you carry us down to earth?” asked the little girl timidly. “Maybe Jinnicky could bring the Lion back to life.” She wiped her eyes. “He’s the best friend I ever had,” she sobbed.

“Now don’t cry.” Hob patted her shoulder awkwardly. “He isn’t dead, for no one ever dies in Cumuland. Isn’t that right, Jac?“ Jac nodded reassuringly. “Oh, that’s good,” sighed Dorothy. “How soon will he wake up?“ Hob looked troubled. “I really don’t know,” he replied. “Gip could wake him up, but of course he won’t. This Jinnicky you mentioned might be able to wake him, if we could only get you out of Cumuland.”

“Can’t you?” entreated Dorothy. Hob shook his head sorrowfully. “Gip enchanted the skyle so that no one could leave or enter it. I can’t understand how ou got here.”

“I can’t understand why Gip’s magic scepter had no effect on her,” remarked Jac.

“Neither could Gip,” snickered Hob.

“Neither can I,” finished Dorothy. They reached a flight of stairs. Hob picked her up, and spreading his great wings, flew down. “Why do you have stairs in the castle when everyone has wings?” Dorothy inquired, as he set her down.

“We used to have guests from other countries,” explained Hob. “None of them had wings, and the stairs were put in for their convenience.” Unfastening the gate at the foot of the stairs, he led her into a wide, dimly lighted hallway with barred doors on either side. Jac stopped at the first door and swung it open.

“Gip said a dark cell,” pointed out one of the men carrying the Lion.

“What if he did?” answered Jac roughly. “I won’t put a child in a dark cell for Gip or anyone else.”

“I don’t blame you,” agreed Boag, coming up with Taggle. He motioned to the men; they entered the cell and laid the sleeping Lion gently upon the cot. “Gip will never know where we put them unless somebody tells him.” He swung around to face the soldiers. “And if anyone does tell, he’ll have me to reckon with.“ There was a chorus of agreement from the men. “Why lock them in at all?” asked Hob. “They can’t get away, and they may as well have all the freedom we can allow them.“ Boag chuckled. “I didn’t intend to lock them in. They can’t do any harm down here.”

Dorothy smiled at him gratefiilly. The cells looked very small and uncomfortable; she did not relish the prospect of being confined in one. “As a matter of fact,” Boag continued, “I hope they will spend their time looking through the entire basement. You see,” he turned to Dorothy, “actually, this is the basement of the castle. Gip put in the cells and called it a dungeon. The dungeon takes up only a small part of it, but the rest of the basement has been blocked off, and no one but Gip knows the entrance to it.” He paused for a moment, but as Dorothy only looked hopelessly confused, he went on.

“Some of us believe that Prince Rory is imprisoned somewhere in the secret part of the basement. With your magic, perhaps you may find and liberate him.“ Before Dorothy could answer, he turned and left the dungeon, followed by his men. Dorothy shrugged her shoulders as she turned to Taggle. “They all seem to think that I’m some sort of magician,” she said hopelessly. “If I were, you can be sure that I wouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t think you’re a magician,” answered the old counselor gently. “But obviously there is some power protecting you— something stronger than Gip’s magic.

The very fact that you are here in Cumuland proves that. Before the King disappeared, he gave me the seeds of the flowers that brought you here and instructed me to throw them down to Earth if the kingdom were ever in danger. The day after Rory’s disappearance I did so. I have been expecting them to bring someone to help us ever since.”

“I don’t see how I can help you,” answered Dorothy, shaking her head in perplexity. “I don’t know a thing about magic.”

“I know that,” agreed Taggle. “But, as I said, there must be some power protecting you. If we can find a way to use that power, we might be able to rescue Rory and overthrow Gip.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” cried Dorothy in despair. “I haven’t any magic power or anything else.”

“No charm to protect you?“‘insisted Taggle.

“You can see for yourself,” returned the little girl, plunging her hands into her pockets. “All I have is a handkerchief, and a…“ Her voice trailed off, as she withdrew her hand from her pocket with the little cart clutched in it.

CHAPTER XIV
JINNICKY’S’ MAGIC

“I knew it!” cried Taggle exultantly. “What’s that? Let me see—it looks like a tiny cart,” he remarked, as Dorothy placed it in his outstretched hand.

“It is,” explained Dorothy eagerly, “and it’s filled with all of Jinnicky ‘s best magic. I had forgotten all about it.”

“Who is Jinnicky?”

“He’s the Red Jinn of Ev. You see, he was coming with us to rescue Ozma because Faleero had enchanted her and was taking her place and nobody knew but the Lion and me, so we had to save her. Understand?“ The old Counselor did not understand; he was completely baffled by the recital, as would be most anyone.

“Wait a minute,” he begged. “Start at the beginning and tell me all about it. Who are Ozma and Faleero, and how could anyone take the other’s place without anyone knowing about it?“ Patiently Dorothy told him the whole story, explaining the reason for her having Jinnicky’s magic. He was much interested, and insisted on hearing all of her adventures since Ozma’s disappearance. At the end of the story, he asked, “Aren’t you afraid to fight against Faleero’s magic? She must be a very powerful fairy to conquer the three most important persons in Oz.”

“She is,” returned Dorothy grimly. “And to make it worse, now she has all their magic too. Unless we can take her by surprise, we won’t have a chance against her.”

“You must love Ozma very much,” said the old man softly.

“Oh, I do!” choked Dorothy. “Everyone does. That’s what makes it so awful.”

“Ah, yes; her subjects think that this imposter is Ozma,” nodded Taggle understandingly. He stepped into the cell and looked at the Lion. “Well, I guess the first thing to do is try to wake up this fellow.”

“But how? Hob said that only Gip could do that.” Dorothy came to his side and gazed at her sleeping friend.

“You forget your magic,” chuckled Taggle.

“Jinnicky’s magic?” exclaimed Dorothy. “But I don’t know how to use it. I don’t know anything about it.”

“Neither do I,” returned Taggle cheerfully. “We’ll have to learn together. Let’s unpack your wagon.“ Giggling a little in spite of herself, Dorothy began to remove the tiny jars from the miniature cart. “Just hand them to me,” directed Taggle, “and I’ll set them up here on this shelf.” When the cart was empty and the jars arranged to Taggle’s satisfaction, they examined the assortment. “There’s writing on this one,” remarked Taggle. “But it’s so small I can’t make it out.“ Dorothy took it from him. Squinting earnestly, she tried to decipher the tiny letters. Finally, with a shake of her head, she handed it back.

“How did Jinnicky make it small?” Taggle asked.

“He just blew on it,” explained Dorothy.

“Let’s try it,” proposed Taggle. “Maybe it will get big again.“ Dorothy shook her head. “What if it gets still smaller? There wouldn’t be anything left of it at all.”

“That’s true,” mused Taggle. “Isn’t there anything left in the cart?“ Dorothy picked up the little cart again. “That’s all,” she replied. “It’s empty—No! Wait a minute. There’s something under the seat. It’s stuck; I can’t get it out.”

“It’s probably nothing important,” Tagale dismissed the matter.

“Maybe it’s your lunch basket.”

“No, it’s shiny.” Dorothy tried to insert her little finger under the seat. “I know what it is; it’s the dinner bell!”

“That’s all we need in a dungeon—a dinner bell,” laughed Taggle.

“Leave it there. It can’t help us.”

“Oh, yes, it can,” replied Dorothy. “This is a magic dinner bell; and Ginger will come if I ring it. He should be able to help us.”

“Who is Ginger?” Taggle took the cart.

“He’s Jinnicky’s servant—he’s magic himself, so he ought to know how to use these things.“ They worked together and separately to dislodge the tiny bell, but to no avail.

Taggle turned out his pockets in search of something to pry with. “I don’t even have a penknife,” he remarked unhappily. “How about you? Don’t you have a hairpin, or something like that?“ Dorothy touched her short locks regretfully. “You don’t use them when your hair is short,” she told him.

“Isn’t this tiresome?” grumbled Taggle. “The one thing that could help us, and we can’t get it out.”

“Wait a minute,” Dorothy muttered, taking back the cart.

“Even if we can’t get it out, it should still ring.” She shook the cart vigorously.

Immediately Ginger appeared in the center of the room—but what a changed Ginger!

Less than a foot high, he carried a tiny tray. His eyes rolled mournfully at Dorothy as he set it down.

“Oh, Ginger,” she cried. “Have you shrunk too?“ Ginger nodded pitifully. Then he began to laugh, doubling up with mirth.

“What… what’s so funny?” faltered Dorothy, in amazement.

Ginger straightened up, grinned and shot up to his normal height.

“I made a little joke,” he explained gleefully.

“Well, thank goodness you’re all right,” sighed Dorothy, too relieved to be annoyed. “Wait, Ginger; don’t go. We’re in trouble, and we need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Who is this man—and where is my master?”

“This is Taggle; he’s our friend,” Dorothy explained. “I don’t know where Jinnicky is—that is, I know where we left him,” she added hastily, “but I don’t know how to get back to him. The King here is a wicked magician, and he won’t let us go. We have all Jinnicky’s magic, but it’s shrunk, and we don’t know how to use it anyway.”

“The magic, where is it?” asked Ginger.

Dorothy pointed to the shelf. Ginger crossed the room and stood examining it. He picked up one bottle, set it down, picked up another, looked at it thoughtfully, and set it down. Then, with a wave of his hand, he apparently dismissed the whole matter and turned away. “Big help, isn’t he?” muttered Taggle.

“Look!” Dorothy clutched his arm. The jars were full size. “How did you do it, Ginger?“ Ginger shrugged deprecatingly. “It is nothing,” he answered. “The bell and cart I leave small so you can keep them in your pocket. Now I go.”

“No, wait! Tell us how to use the magic.“ Ginger shrugged again. “I do not know. It is Jinnicky’s magic; I am only a small part of it.”

“Please Ginger, at least help us to wake the Lion, anyway,” begged Dorothy.

“Is the lazy fellow sleeping? Why don’t you shake him? Then he will wake up.”

“Oh, no, no. You don’t understand,” insisted Dorothy. “He’s been enchanted; the King did it.”

“Oh.” Ginger’s round face became serious. “He must be a wicked man, that one.

Let me see if I can waken him.” Bending close to the Lion’s ear, he thrust two fingers into his mouth and whistled a blast that made Dorothy and Tagglejump. But the Lion lay quietly; not even a whisker twitched. Ginger looked thoughtful.

“I go now,” he told Dorothy. “When I am gone, count five and ring the bell again.

Then we shall see.” He disappeared, to the amazement of Taggle. Dorothy counted five slowly, and again shook the little cart. Instantly Ginger was back; this time he carried a strange instrument which he waved proudly at Dorothy. “Jinnicky’s re-animating rays,“ he announced. “I had to go all the way back to the castle to get it. That is what took me so long.“ Taggle’s eyes popped. Ginger stepped quickly over to the Lion and focused the instruument on his head. For long moments nothing happened. Then the Lion moved restlessly and opened his eyes.

“I’ll tear you to pieces if you touch Dorothy!” he roared, springing violently to his feet, and knocking Ginger clear across the room. “I’ll—where is he? Dorothy, where are you?“ Dorothy ran to him quickly. ‘‘It’s all right,” she soothed. “It’s all over now. You’ve been asleep.”

“Asleep? Me? I never closed my eyes for a minute,” protested the Lion. He caught sight of Ginger scrambling to his feet. “What’s Ginger doing here? Where are we anyway?“ Dorothy explained quickly. As soon as the Lion had grasped the situation, he quite embarrassed the little boy with his thanks.

“It was nothing,” insisted Ginger. “There is nothing I would not do for my master’s friends.“ To change the subject, he walked over to the shelf full of Jinnicky’s jars, and regarded them thoughtfully. “This I do not like,” he muttered. “If the magician so wicked should come down here, he might steal Jinnicky’s magic.” He stretched out a hand to Dorothy. “Give me the cart.” He took the little cart in one hand and a bottle in the other.

Quickly he brought his hands together, the bottle shrinking as it approached the cart.

“See, it fits now,” he beamed. He took the bottle out of the cart; it promptly regained its former size. “You try it,” he offered, handing the cart to Dorothy. The little girl obeyed doubtfully. The bottle grew smaller until it nestled in the cart.

“That is better,” nodded Ginger. “Now you can carry it with you so you will have it when you need it. Take it out.”

Dorothy did so and found herself clutching a full-sized bottle. Ginger nodded with satisfaction.

“Is there anything else I can do for my master’s friends?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, for now,” returned Dorothy. “We have to find the young prince. We think he’s locked up somewhere down here.”

“Locked up….” repeated Ginger thoughtfully. “Do you have a key?” As Dorothy shook her head in surprise, he reached into the folds of his turban and triumphantly produced a small key which he placed in her hand. “This will fit any lock,” he assured her. “Goodbye!” And before they could answer, he was gone.

“He’s very sudden, isn’t he?” murmured Taggle dizzily. “These appearances and disappearances are very upsetting.”

“We’d better put everything back in the cart,” sighed Dorothy wearily. “It must be pretty late at night by now.”

“I’ll do it.” Taggle took the cart out of her hand. “You can sleep. I’m sorry there’s nothing to eat, but Gip probably gave orders not to feed us.”

“I still have the dinner bell,” smiled Dorothy, “but I’m not very hungry now. I’ll just have cookies and milk.” She took a blue jar from the shelf and set it on the bench.

“Have some?” she invited.

“Did you say milk, too?” asked Taggle, as he reached into the jar. Her mouth full, Dorothy pointed to a grey pitcher. “No cups, though,” she mumbled around a large bite.

“How very careless of the Jinn,” chuckled Taggle. “Here.” He detached a tin cup from a hook over a basin in the corner and handed it to her.

“Just pour some milk in the basin for me,” requested the Lion. Taggle set the basin on the floor and filled it. The Lion crouched over it, lapping the milk like a great tabby.

When he was through, he rose and stretched himself. “I think I’ll look around a bit,” he remarked. “Maybe I’ll find Rory.”

As the Lion sauntered off, Taggle turned to Dorothy only to find her slumped on her face, sound asleep beside her empty cup. He picked her up and gently laid her on the cot, covering her with his coat. Then he turned his attention to the various jars, bottles, pots, and vases on the shelf. He examined them carefully, shaking his head over sone and nodding wisely over others. At last he packed them all into the cart and slipped it into his pocket. Stretching out on the floor, he was soon fast asleep.

CHAPTER XV
THE SEARCH FOR RORY

When Dorothy awoke, she wondered if it could be morning. The vast corridor, with its dim lighting, seemed as dull and cheerless as before. The Lion poked his head in at the door.

“High time you were waking up,” he greeted her. “Hurry up; we’re waiting breakfast for you.” Taggle had already summoned Ginger, and when the little girl joined them, she found her breakfast waiting. While they were eating, the great gate clashed open and Hob stepped in. “Gip gave orders not to feed you,” he whispered, “but I brought some food for the little girl anyway. I knew she’d be hungry.“ With a wave of his hand, Taggle indicated the steaming trays of food. Hob’s jaw dropped. “Where did that come from?”

“Nothing to it,” remarked the Lion, who was enjoying himself hugely. Then Hob looked, if possible, even more astonished. “How did you manage to wake up?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s very easy, if you know how,” returned the Lion airily.

Dorothy jumped up and took Hob’s hand. “It was nice of you to bring us food, even if we don’t need it,” she told him. “Thank you very much—and don’t worry about us any more. We probably get better meals than Gip.“ Hob sighed. “I wonder what Rory gets.“ They were all silent for a moment, thinking about the unknown fate of the boy King. Then Dorothy declared confidently, “If he’s down here, we’ll find him. Then, if all his subjects stand by him, we’ll conquer Gip and put Rory on the throne.”

“We’ll stand by him,” promised Hob enthusiastically.

“Hob,” interjected the Lion, “I went through this whole prison last night. There’s no one here but us. If Rory is a prisoner, Gip has him somewhere else.”

“Oh, he’s not in the dungeon,” explained Hob. “The dungeon is only a small part of the castle basement. We’ve been all through it many times. You see, when Gip took the throne, he put in these cells and closed them in. We used to have game rooms and swimming pools, a ballroom and a dining hall down here. Why, the downstairs used to be the most popular place in the castle—and look at it now,” he finished bitterly. “Could you believe that we used to have parties down here?“

Dorothy looked around at the dingy walls and shook her head. “How are we supposed to get through to the other part?” she asked.

“There’s a door at the back of the prison,” replied Hob.

“I saw it last night,” put in the Lion. “I suppose it’s locked, though.”

“Oh, you can open it, I’m sure,” smiled Hob. “With your magic powers, it should be easy.”

“Don’t depend too much on those magical powers,” cautioned the Lion anxiously.

“We’ll do what we can. In the meantime, though, you’d better get back before you’re missed.”

“That’s right,” agreed Hob, with a worried look. He unfastened the gate and let himself though. “I’ll come down, or send someone everyday to see how you’re getting along. Goodbye and good luck.” Spreading his wings, he soared out of sight up the winding stairway.

Dorothy gazed after him enviously. “It must be fun to fly,” she mused.

“Not for me!” declared the Lion with a shudder. “I’ll keep my feet on the ground, thank you.”

“You’re just afraid to try it,” teased Taggle.

“Of course I am,” replied the big beast placidly. “That’s why I’m the Cowardly Lion.”

“Well, you’re the bravest coward I ever met,” consoled Dorothy, hugging him breathlessly.

“He certainly is,” agreed Taggle.

The Lion ducked his head in embarrassment. “If you’re ready, let’s get started looking for Rory,” he suggested, to change the subject. “I’d like to get this business cleaned up and get home.“ Dorothy heartily agreed with this, and the search began.

The Lion led them to the locked door at the end of the prison. Dorothy produced Ginger’s key and inserted it into the lock. To her delight, it fit perfectly, and the door swung open.

They passed into a large room, which to all appearances, no one had been in for many years. Dust was thick everywhere, and drapes and curtains were stiff with age and grime.

“Spooky, isn’t it,” muttered the Lion. Dorothy nodded, shivering.

“This was a ballroom once,” said Taggle sadly. “I can remember many dances and parties here in this very room. The King and Queen loved good times.”

“Whatever happened to them?” asked the Lion. “Do you think they could be hidden down here too?”

“No,” answered Taggle slowly. “We searched everywhere for them when they disappeared. I am certain that they were destroyed.”

“But if… if Gip could destroy them,” Dorothy spoke hesitantly, “how do you know that he didn’t destroy Rory too?”

“Rory was protected,” answered the old man. “When he was born, his father gave him a magic ring, which as long as he wore it, would protect him from destruction. I am sure that he still has it, or Gip would be wearing it.”

“Well, let’s get started,” said the Lion.

The ballroom opened into a corridor with arched doorways on either side. All that day they searched without success. Tired and disheartened, they returned to the prison to sleep. The next day was a repetition of the first, and they could only shake their heads in defeat when Hob came to inquire as to their progress. The third day they went through all the rooms again, each taking one, then trading off, and finally meeting again in the corridor to look at each other in baffled silence.

“Let’s stop for the day,” suggested Taggle finally. “Dorothy can hardly keep her eyes open, and I’m tired too.”

“Wait a minute,” mumbled the Lion. “There’s something wrong here.“ He snuffed along the baseboard between two doorways. Dorothy dropped in a tired little heap on the floor and watched him dispiritedly. He disappeared into the room beyond. After a few moments, he emerged.

“Satisfied?” asked Taggle.

“No, wait.” The Lion glanced at the two arches, came back down the corridor and entered the other room. Taggle sat down beside Dorothy as the Lion returned. Without giving them a glance, he crossed the hall and examined the two rooms there. Shortly he returned, looking very pleased with himself. “I think I’ve found it,” he announced.

Dorothy and Taggle jumped up, their weariness forgotten. “What?” they chorused.

The Lion led them into all four rooms in turn. He gave them time only for a quick look around in each, then took them back into the corridor.

“Do you see it?” he asked.

They shook their head. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” admitted Dorothy.

“Can’t you see that the rooms across the hall are larger than these?” persisted the Lion. “They were at least five feet longer— yet the doors are the same distance apart on both sides of the corridor. Now what would the extra space on this side be for?”

“A secret passageway!” gasped Dorothy.

“Exactly,” applauded the Lion. “Which may lead us to Rory.“ Dorothy clapped her hands. “Oh, I hope so!” she cried. Then, growing serious, she asked, “I wonder how we can get into it?”

“That remains to be seen,” announced the Lion. “First let’s find out if there’s an opening.“ It was Dorothy who first discovered the tiny crack. It ran up one side, across, and down the other.

“That’s the door,” pronounced Taggle solomnly.

They pushed at it, but the section was unyielding. Giving up on that idea, they pushed and twisted every one of the jewels which studded the smooth stone wall in the hope of finding a spring which would release the door. Finally, they all sat down on the floor and glared at the stubborn stone.

Finally Dorothy arose determinedly, pulled Ginger’s key from her pocket, and again approached the door.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” advised the Lion. “How can you use the key when there isn’t any key hole?”

“There must be,” insisted Dorothy. “If this is really a door, there must be some way of opening it.” She held the key close to the door and moved it back and forth over the smooth surface.

Suddenly Taggle gave a shout. The key was changing into a thin thread of steel.

Dorothy pushed it against the door, and the key, shrinking still more, slipped into an imperceptable hole. Scarcely breathing, Dorothy turned the key.

Instantly there was a sharp click, and the panel swung back, revealing a dark, narrow flight of stairs.

CHAPTER XVI
THE LOST KING IS FOUND

“Shall we go down?” whispered Dorothy.

Taggle considered for a moment and shook his head. “Let’s wait until tomorrow and have a good night’s sleep first,” he proposed. “Then if we should run into trouble, we’ll be better able to cope with it.”

“Maybe you will,” returned the Lion, “but after I’ve lain awake all night worrying about what night be down there, I’ll be afraid to go find out. You can go to sleep if you want to; I’m going down right now.”

“Me too.” Dorothy caught at his mane.

Taggle grinned. “I’ll sleep better myself if we look now,” he confessed. “We’ll need a light though.“ Dorothy rummaged through the contents of the cart. Triumphantly she produced a small but powerful lamp.

“I’ll go first,” the Lion offered.

Single file they tiptoed cautiously down the steep stairs. At the bottom was a long, winding passageway. They followed it, hardly breathing in their excitement. It turned and twisted, doubling back upon itself, until Dorothy wondered if it would ever take them anywhere.

At length it separated into two passages. Dorothy and Taggle were dismayed at this; but the Lion, after a sniff down each, unhesitatingly selected the left-hand corridor and forged ahead.

Presently the Lion rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks. “Put out the light!“ he hissed frantically. With trembling fingers, Dorothy switched off the lamp. “Come up here,” breathed the Lion. Cautiously they crept up to him. Far ahead they could see a faint glimmer of light. “Follow me,” the Lion whispered. “Don’t make a sound.“ Dorothy slipped off her shoes, carrying them in her hand. Taggle followed suit.

Noiseless as ghosts, they continued down the tunnel.

“It’s getting nearer,” choked Dorothy. Shrinking against the side of the corridor, she felt an opening in the wall. Quickly she drew her companions into it. Crouched behind a ledge, they watched the light approach until Dorothy, swallowing a gasp of fright, recognized the cruel features of Gip.

Directly oposite them, he stopped. Turning away, he touched a tiny hole in the wall. A large section of wall swung away, revealing an empty, barred room. In the corner was a heap of what looked to be rags.

“Ho, Rory!” called Gip. The bundle of rags stirred, and a thin white face stared at him. “Get up, King,” jeered Gip. “Is this any way to greet your loving uncle?“ The boy, not much older than Dorothy, rose and stumbled to the bars. “What do you want?” he asked, with quiet dignity.

“I’ve come to give you a last chance,” answered Gip.“Give me the ring, and I’ll take you out of here.”

“Never!” answered Rory.

“Think before you decide,” cautioned Gip. “If you agree, I’ll take you away from here, change you so you won’t be recognized, and let you go free. If you refuse, I’ll shut you in here forever. Take your choice.“ The boy hesitated only for a moment; then his chin went up. “I will not give you my father’s ring.”

“Is that your final decision?” demanded Gip, his face dark with rage. For answer, Rory turned his back. For an hour, Gip alternately pleaded and threatened, but the boy refused even to answer. “All right,” announced Gip at last, “you’ve had your chance, and you’ll never have another. I can get along without the ring, but you’ll spend the rest of your life here. Goodbye, Rory.

I’ll think of you sometimes.” He slammed the section of wall back into place and strode off down the corridor. As the light faded away into the distance, Dorothy raised her head with a sigh of relief.

The Lion was already back in the corridor. “Quick, Dorothy, turn on the light and get that boy out of there. I’ll follow Gip.” He was gone before they could protest. Dorothy switched on the light and soon found the hole in the wall.

She inserted her finger as Gip had done, touched the spring at the bottom and again the wall sprang back. Rory stood in the room, his back to the door.

“Rory!” faltered the old Counselor, stretching out his arms.

The boy turned quickly at the sound of that familiar voice. “Uncle Taggle!” he cried. “How did you ever find me?” He hugged the old man through the bars. “Does Gip know you’re here? You’d better go before he finds you.”

“Gip’s gone,” returned Taggle. “And we’re going to get you out of here.“ Rory smiled sadly. “You can’t,” he answered. “The door is locked, and Gip has the key.”

“I have a magic key,” explained Dorothy, holding it up. She fitted it into the lock; a moment later Rory was free. Taggle pulled him out into the corridor.

“Shut the panel,” urged Dorothy.

Taggle turned his attention to the open section of the wall, pushing it until it clicked shut. “Let’s go,” he puffed.

“We have to wait for the Lion,” Dorothy reminded him.

“Lion?” echoed Rory. “A real Lion? What is he doing here?”

“Rescuing you,” chuckled Taggle. At the boy’s questioning look, he told him all about Dorothy and the Lion, their arrival in Cumuland and their subsequent adventures.

“And now we have to get you out of here,” broke in Dorothy, “and get you back on your throne so we can go home.”

“I wonder what’s keeping the Lion,” fretted Taggle. “I hope he hasn’t run into any trouble. Maybe we should go after him.”’ At that moment, however, the Lion came bounding up the corridor.

“Gip’s gone back upstairs,” he announced. “I followed him to be sure he wouldn’t come back and surprise us.”

“That’s good,” answered Taggle. “Now let’s get Rory away from here and give him something to eat. He looks half starved.”

“I am,” remarked the boy composedly. “I haven’t had anything to eat for a week.“ Sputtering with indignation, Taggle half carried, half dragged him along the tunnel.

“Put him on my back,” proposed the Lion. “We can go faster that way. I won’t feel safe until we’re out of here.” Rory was half afraid of the great beast, but climbed gamely onto his back.

“Hang onto his mane,” advised Dorothy. “That’s the way I always ride him.” Rory clenched his teeth and hung on, determined that no mere girl should be braver than he.

They hurried back through the passageway and up the stairs. Taggle closed the panel, and they hastily retraced their steps down the corridor, through the ballroom, and back to the cell by the gate.

Here Dorothy rang the dinner bell. Ginger quickly appeared with food for the half-starved boy. He ate ravenously, occasionally reaching out to touch Taggle and assure himself that it was not all a dream.

When his hunger was satisfied, he told them of his experiences during the past year.

“On the day before my twelfth birthday,” he began, “I told Gip that I was old enough to rule my country. He tried to persuade me to wait, but I was disgusted with his cruelty and harshness and refused to listen. He pretended to give in, agreeing to give up the throne the next day. Then he led me down to the room in which you found me, saying that he had a letter written by my father before his disappearance. I suppose I should have suspected treachery, but I was so anxious to see my father’s letter that I never thought of it. As soon as I entered the room, he slammed the door and locked it. Every day he would come to bring me food and to ask me to give him my ring. Last week he didn’t come until tonight. I was almost ready to give him the ring, but I knew that if he got it, he’d lock me up again for good, or destroy me.”

“I don’t see how you could know how many days you were there, remarked Dorothy. “Wasn’t it dark all the time?”

“There was a crack in the wall near the ceiling; it let in a little light during the day.“ Dorothy shuddered. “It must have been dreadful to be shut up in there for so long. Gip is a horrid man.”

“He is indeed,” agreed Taggle, “and he will be well punished for his wickedness.”

“But not tonight,” yawned the Lion. “So pick yourselves a cell, and let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will probably he a long, hard day.”

“It will be an exciting one anyway,” chuckled Taggle happily. “Come along, Rory.

The Lion is right. We’ll need to be rested before we face Gip.“ Exhausted as they were, they slept until the arrival of Hob, who had faithfully visited them each day. The Lion was the first to hear his approach, and met him at the gate.

“Where were you yesterday?” asked Hob. “I waited for you as long as I dared.”

“Out finding your King for you,” returned the Lion, with a tremendous yawn.

“Would you like to see him?”  At Hob’s eager, almost disbelieving assent, the Lion led him to the cell in which the young King slept. Hob looked at him for a long time, then tiptoed quietly out. “He looks so thin and pale,” he murmured.

“So would you,” answered the Lion, “if you had been shut up in a dark room and starved for a year.” Hob’s snort of indignation woke Dorothy and Taggle.

“Did you see him?” asked Dorothy eagerly.

Hob nodded. “We will never be able to thank you. May I tell everyone that he has been found?“ Dorothy looked to Taggle, who nodded. “Tell them,” he ordered, “but be sure that Gip doesn’t find out. We mean to face him in the throne room. See that everyone there is loyal to the boy.”

“Everyone in Cumuland is loyal to Rory,” asserted Hob. “I’ll see that the guard is there—the strangers’ magic will protect them all, will it not?”

“I can’t promise that,” returned Dorothy. “We do have some magic, but I don’t know how to use it. Still, Gip can’t fight against the whole kingdom.“ Rory, awakened by their voices, made his appearance. “Hello, Hob,” he greeted the guardsman.

“Your Majesty!” cried Hob, dropping to one knee.

“Oh, get up!” exclaimed Rory impatiently. “You don’t have to kneel to me. I don’t like it, and I won’t permit it when I’m King.“ Hob rose and took the boy’s hand. “Your Majesty, I welcome you back to your kingdom and assure you of the loyalty of your subjects.”

“Thank you,” returned Rory with dignity. “You may tell my subjects to expect me shortly—shortly after I eat,” he added with a grin.

“I’ll bring you some clothes,” offered Hob, turning toward the gate.

“No!” Taggle shook his head. “Let everyone see how he has been treated. Then, if there are any who would side with Gip, they will know what to expect from him.”

“No one will,” returned Hob positively. “Still, I think you’re right. I’ll go now to spread the news. I’ll call you as soon as Gip goes to the throne room.“ He returned in an hour, followed by a group of men. Rory knew most of them, and called them by name. “It’s the Prince, all right. No doubt about it,” called out one of the men. In an instant Rory was surrounded, each man trying to touch him and speak with him.

When the first excitement subsided, Rory started toward the gate. Dorothy, Taggle and the Lion followed him closely. At the foot of the foot of the stairs, Rory spread his wings, but they faltered and would not bear his weight. Quietly he began to walk up the stairs. Behind him he could hear shocked exclamations and whispers.

Taggle turned on them fiercely. “He’s been locked for a year in a room with barely enough room to lie down. There’s nothing wrong that exercise and good food won’t cure.”

Hob brushed past, caught the boy in his arms, and soared lightly up the stairs, Taggle following closely. Jac brought Dorothy, and four nervous soldiers carried the equally nervous Lion.

In the hall above stood a throng of men and women, waiting to see their long lost King. Forewarned by Hob, they repressed their inclination to shout, and called out their greetings and good wishes in whispers. All followed him down the long corridor to the throne.

At the door they met the remainder of the guard, with Boag at their head. He bowed low as Rory approached, and signalled to the footman, who threw open the door and announced:

“His Majesty, Rory of Cumuland!”

CHAPTER XVII
JINNICKY TO THE RESCUE

Dorothy had a fleeting glimpse of heads turning in startled wonder at the footman’s words. Then her attention was caught by Gip, who rose from his throne, his face pale with mingled fear and anger. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“Seize that impostor! Rory stopped midway to the throne. “I am no impostor,” he cried. “I am the rightful King of Cumuland, betrayed and imprisoned by you, my own uncle!“ A shout went up from the courtiers at his words. As Rory moved on towards the throne, they followed, cheering, only to be brought to a stop by Gip’s upraised sceptor.

Rory, protected by his magic ring, continued to advance; and Taggle, who was touching the boy’s sleeve was also shielded. Seeing this, Dorothy, who likewise had not been affected, caught the Lion’s mane and urged him forward.

Waving his scepter, Gip shouted five magic words. Instantly there sprang up before them an enormous dragon, with flames shooting from its nostrils.

Rory seized a sword from one of the helpless guardsmen and plunged at the monster. A blast of the fiery breath enveloped him and sent him reeling backwards against Taggle—who, at his touch, regained power of motion and began frantically to brush the sparks from the boy’s clothing.

Dorothy snatched the Jinn’s cart from her pocket. Seizing a bottle at random, she uncorked it and hurled it at the dragon. The only effect of this was to enrage the beast further and fix its attention upon her. Opening its horned jaws, it advanced straight for her. Desperately the child fumbled in the cart.

The Lion pulled away from her to charge at the monster, and at once came under the spell of the magic scepter and was powerless to move. Dorothy jerked a pink jug from the cart and tried vainly to open it. The dragon was almost upon her. “Oh, I wish Jinnicky were here!” she wailed, as the jug slipped from her fingers and shattered upon the floor.

And suddenly—so suddenly that even the dragon fell back in surprise—Jinnicky was there!

He took in the situation at a glance; he snatched the little cart and selected a bottle. As the dragon once more advanced to seize them, he flung the entire contents straight down the blazing throat. Bellowing in pain and fright, the monster backed away.

Seventeen pink glass windows were shattered to bits by the creature’s roars. Great clouds of smoke poured from the dragon’s mouth and nostrils, and when they cleared away, the monster lay lifeless upon the floor.

“Mercy!” gasped Jinnicky, mopping his forehead. “That was certainly close. Now what?” But no one could tell him; for with the loss of the magic cart. Dorothy too was paralyzed by the power of the scepter, while Gip, Rory and Taggle were paralyzed by the sudden appearance of the Jinn. Rory was the first to recover; springing forward purposefully, he snatched the scepter from Gip.

The false King, suddenly deposed, and knowing himself helpless against the greater power of the Jinn, sprang from the throne and flung himself through one of the broken windows in a desperate attempt to escape. Hob hurtled af ter him, followed by a grim Boag and ten guardsmen.

Dorothy and the Lion flung themselves rapturously upon

Jinnicky. “Gently—take it easy…” puffed the little Jinn, his round, red face wreathed in smiles. “Don’t break the poor old man into pieces. Mercy me, but I’m glad to see you. I’ve been looking for you for days. Where are we, and who are all these people? Mercy me, they all have wings!“ Quickly Dorothy introduced Rory, Taggle and as many of the others as she knew.

They were all overjoyed at Jinnicky’s opportune arrival, and crowded around, offering their thanks and congratulations.

Suddenly Taggle swept Rory up and lifted him to the throne. The young King’s subjects broke into wild cheers which almost shattered the remaining windows. Abashed, and conscious of his rags, Rory tried to slip down, but this the crowd refused to permit.

At length he held up his hands and waited for silence. When the cheering finally stopped, he thanked the Jinn for his timely rescue and his subjects for their reception of him. “And now,” he finished, “after I am dressed properly, we shall have a feast in honor of our royal guests.”

Later, bathed and dressed — and properly hungry—Dorothy and her friends sat down to a feast more elaborate than any they had ever attended. Rory, in fresh clothing, with his long hair trimmed, looked every inch a king. It was a merry meal, and at its height, Hob, Boag and the guardsmen returned with Gip. The false Monarch was bound hand and foot.

“What shall we do with him, your Majesty?” asked Boag.

Rory looked evenly at Gip, then around the table indecisively. His glance fell on the little Jinn, who beamed at him encouragingly. He rose and approached his uncle. “I cannot treat you as you have treated me,” he said slowly, “for such would be cruelty; and there will be no more cruelty in Cumuland. Still, I cannot give you your freedom in your present form because you would continue to plot against me. Therefore, I shall ask our guest, the Red Jinn, to change you into something small and harmless, and let you go.”

“I’d be delighted, my boy!” exclaimed Jinnicky, rubbing his hands together brisky. “What would you suggest that I change him to?“ Rory looked troubled. “Whatever you think is best,” he answered soberly. “I don’t want him to be unhappy.“ Jinnicky’s brow furrowed in deep thought for a moment; then his face cleared.

Seizing a bottle, he poured three drops on Gip’s head. Instantly the prisoner was prone; in his place there lay a small pink bat. Jinnicky cut the cords that still bound it, and the bat swooped through the window and was quickly out of sight.

“I didn’t want to deprive him of his wings,” explained the kind-hearted little Jinn, as he resumed his seat.

Dorothy, from her place of honor beside Rory, leaned across the table toward

Jinnicky. “You still haven’t told us how you got here,” she reminded him.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he admitted, with a shrug. “One moment I was wandering through a field, looking for you, and the next I was beside you—and almost in a dragon’s mouth!” he finished with a shudder.

“Could the pink jug have had anything to do with it?” suggested Taggle.

“Pink jug?” Jinnicky bounced in his chair. “Did you open it?”

“I was going to throw it at the dragon,” explained Dorothy, “but I dropped it…”

“You dropped it as you were wishing Jinnicky were here,” broke in Rory excitedly.

“I certainly did!” agreed Dorothy.

“That was my new, triple-action, double-distilled, wishing elixir,” exclaimed the Jinn. “I’ve never had a chance to try it out; I’m mighty glad it worked.”

“So am I,” rumbled the Lion, with a heartfelt sigh.

“So are we all,” Taggle finished for the rest of them. “But tell us, please, how did you overcome the dragon? Was that a poison you used?”

“Poison? Oh, my dear sir!” The little Jinn was genuinely shocked. “Let me inform you that I do not deal in poisons.“ Seeing that Taggle was extremely penitent and embarrassed, he smiled benignly then, and continued more mildly. “Since the dragon, as you all know, cannot exist without its fire, I used my own invention—a very potent fire extinguisher. I extinguished the dragon!”

“How will you get it out of the Throne Room?” asked Dorothy, feeling sorry for Taggle, and anxious to change the subject.

“That’s all been taken care of,” returned Rory. “The guardsmen hauled it away and disposed of it.“ Taggle, wishing to atone for his horrible blunder, leaned forward nervously, and caught Dorothy’s eye. “I know you are all anxious to get back to Oz and save your Queen, but won’t you stay for the coronation this evening?”

“Oh, yes, please do!” chimed in Rory. “I’ll have some of the guard carry you to Oz the first thing in the morning.“ Dorothy hesitated. She was very anxious to get back to the Emerald City, but she hated to disappoint Rory. The Jinn settled the matter for her. “My red magic works best in the morning,” he declared,‘‘and it would be a pity to have any of Rory’s subjects miss the coronation on our account. We’ll stay with you tonight.” This having been arranged, Rory took his guests for a tour of the palace and grounds. The Jinn was especially delighted with the palace grounds. He picked up a handful of soil. “It looks just like foam or soap suds,” he marveled.

“It’s solidified cloud,” returned Rory carelessly. Dorothy was startled. “Do you mean this country is a cloud?” she asked.

“Of course. It’s just like any other cloud, except that this one is solid.”

“What makes it pink?” inquired the little girl.

“Oh, that’s because we’re high enough to get the pink rays from the sun,“ explained Rory.

The little Jinn stirred uneasily. “Do you just float where the wind takes you, or do you have means of directing it?”

“We can direct it when we wish. Most of the time we just float freely, but we can go to any place we want. Today I gave orders to head for the Emerald City. We should be directly over it by morning.”

“That’s fine.” Jinnicky gave a satisfied sniff. The Lion gulped, feeling rather seasick. The idea of floating aimlessly about the sky made his feet hurt, he commented sadly. “Do-do you ever run into anything?” he added hollowly.

“Only other clouds,” laughed Rory, patting the big head reassuringly.

“Can you raise and lower he country?” asked Dorothy.

“No, we stay at the same height always,” replied Rory. “There is no mechanism employed in moving the country; we can’t move at all unless the wind blows. Right now, we’re tacking against it.“ The Lion, who knew nothing about sailing, was not particularly comforted by this explanation, but the Jinn nodded wisely. Dorothy’s attention was caught by a group of children playing tag some twenty feet off the ground. They darted and swooped, banked and somersaulted like a flock of swallows. The Jinn, seeing Rory’s eyes following them wistfully, suggested kindly, “Why don’t you join them? We would enjoy watching you.”

Rory shook his head. “I can’t fly any more.”

“Can’t fly?” blustered Jinnicky. “Why not? You have just as good set of wings as any of them, haven’t you?”

“Not any more,” returned Rory bitterly. “Once I was the best flier in Cumuland, but now my wings won’t even hold me up.”

“You see,” put in Dorothy anxiously, “he was locked up for such a long time in such a small place that he couldn’t exercise his wings at all, and they stopped working.“ The little Jinn’s merry face sobered. Carefully he examined the useless wings.

“There’s nothing wrong here that time and exercise wouldn’t cure,” he reported. “Still, there’s nothing to he gained by waiting when we have the remedy right here. My Renovating Powder will fix up anything as good as new.” He sprinkled a silver powder on the wings, thought a moment, and added a pinch more to each. “Now try it,” he urged.

Trembling with eagerness, Rory stood on his toes and stretched his wings wide. With a rush he was off, his strong pinions beating the air.

Higher and higher he soared, until he was almost lost from sight. Then he folded his wings and fell like a stone. Dorothy screamed, covering her eyes; and even Jinnicky looked worried. Ten feet from the ground, Rory checked his fall and darted off to join the other children. Under and over and around them he flew, up and down, forward and backward, while heads popped from the castle windows and the people cried to one another that the King could fly again—and better than ever before!

“It was that extra pinch that I added,” chuckled Jinnicky. “A King should always excel his subjects in everything.“ Then the Jinn hastily grabbed for his lid. Rory was swooping in to a landing next to them, and the blast of wind from his wings quite threatened to blow it away. Dorothy’s skirts flapped wildly for a moment as the young King came to a stop. He was flushed with pride and happiness.

“It wonderful,” he cried. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t try,” blustered the little Jinn, his ears growing red. “Don’t try—what fun would it be to have magic if you couldn’t use it to help your friends?“ After supper, Rory took his leave to go in and prepare for the great event. A little maid took Dorothy to the room which she would occupy. There she bathed and dressed in a pink frock. Two of the castle servants brushed and curried the Lion, while another polished Jinnicky to a high gloss.

Presently they were escorted to the Throne Room where they found Rory, looking nervous and very handsome in his magnificent state robes. The Throne Room was filled to capacity with men, women and children. Some of the women were even holding tiny babies, and Dorothy thought she had never seen anything so cunning as the babies with their tiny wings. A cheer went up as the three friends entered the room and were led to the place of honor beside Rory’s throne. The actual ceremony was very short, ending when the crown was placed on the young Monarch’s head. He made a short speech of acceptance, which was entirely drowned out by cheers.

Then he hung his crown on the back of the throne and slid down to join in the celebration. The singing and dancing was at its height when Dorothy approached Rory. “I think I’d better get some sleep if we’re to leave early.”

“Me too,” added Jinnicky. “We’ll need clear heads tomorrow.“ Rory wished them a good night and regretfully watched their departure. “I wish I could go with them,” he mourned. “I bet it will be exciting.“ Taggle, standing at his side, laughed. “You’re the King now, you know—who can stop you from going where you choose?”

“Oh, Taggle!” gasped Rory. “May I really go?”

“Don’t ask me…” chuckled the old Counselor. “Go ahead if you want to; I think a vacation might be good for you.”

“Well, in that case, I’d better get some sleep,” announced Rory proudly. “We’ll need clear heads tomorrow.”

CHAPTER XVIII
DOWN TO EARTH

The next morning, when Dorothy and Jinnicky entered the breakfast room, they found Rory and Taggle awaiting them. The Lion was already there, busily at work on his third serving of breakfast.

“I’m going with you,” exclaimed Rory happily. “That is, if you want me.”

“Want you? —of course we want you,” blustered Jinnicky; and Dorothy cried,

“Oh, that’s wonderful—but Rory, it might be dangerous.”

“My magic ring will protect me,” answered the young King calmly. “Besides, you saved my kingdom for me, and I intend to help you as much as I can.“ Taggle looked on with a pleased smile. The Lion eyed him.“Can you come too?“ he asked hopefully.

“Oh, yes; Taggle, please do!” begged Dorothy excitedly.

Taggle shook his head. “I’m getting too old for such exciting adventures,” he replied. “Anyway, I must remain here and take care of Rory’s kingdom for him in his absence.“ Hob and Boag entered the room, followed by five guardsmen. They approached and saluted. “We are ready when you are, your Majesty,” announced Boag.

“We’ll be with you in a minute.” Rory dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and turned proudly to Dorothy. “My very first law was that everyone should salute me instead of bowing. It’s much more military looking, don’t you think?” Dorothy and Jinnicky nodded gravely.

The Jinn turned to the Lion. “Aren’t you through eating, yet?” he asked teasingly.

“If you eat much more, these good people won’t be able to carry you; they’ll probably drop you on the way down.” The Lion gulped, backed away from the plate and cast an apprehensive eye toward the tall windows.

“Stop scaring him,” scolded Dorothy. She patted the Lion’s broad head. “Go on and eat. They won’t drop you—you can eat all you want.”

“I… I don’t think I want any more,” faltered the Lion uneasily, with a longing glance at the still heaping dish.

“I was only fooling,” coaxed the little Jinn. “Eat it up.“ The Lion wavered uncertainly, but presently his appetite overcame his fears.

Returning to the dish, he continued his meal. “That’s the way,” encouraged Jinnicky.

“And I don’t know why you’re afraid…. Look at me—if they drop me, I’ll be smashed to bits—I’ll be positively jarred.“ The Lion cringed only a little bit at Jinnicky’s outrageous pun. “All this talk about dropping and smashing isn’t doing my appetite any good,” he grumbled.

“I can’t see that it’s hurt it much,” snickered the little Jinn. He sauntered over to the guardsmen to give them their instructions. The Lion rolled his eyes mournfully to watch. Jinnicky’s instructions were accompanied by some expressive hand waving, mostly downward. The Lion shuddered. Quickly he bolted his remaining food and polished the plate with his tongue.

“Let’s go now,” he begged. ‘‘If I have to wait around here and think about it, I might get nervous.”

“Oh, no! Not you…!” snickered the little Jinn.

“Don’t be frightened,” soothed Rory. “It will be over in a minute. We’re almost directly over the Emerald Palace. We’ll drop straight down and be there almost before you know it.“ The Lion winced. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he shuddered. “You realize, of course, that ‘drop’ is rapidly becoming one of my very least favoritest words. I’d rather go slowly, and…”

“And give Faleero plenty of warning,“‘broke in Jinnicky helpfully.

The Lion covered his eyes. “I’d forgotten about Faleero,” he groaned. “Why did you have to remind me? I think I’ll just stay here.”

“Maybe you’d better,” agreed Dorothy, winking at her companions. “And after Ozma is saved, she can bring you down with the Magic Belt.”

“Look here!” roared the outraged beast. “If you think I’m going to let you and Jinnicky go without me, and take all the risks while I…” He stopped to glare suspiciously at Dorothy. The little girl’s face was turned away, but her shoulders were shaking. The other three were simply doubled up with laughter.

The Lion grinned sheepishly. Jinnicky pounded him on the back. “That’s one of the things I like about you,” he declared breathlessly. “You’re so gullible.“ Leaving the Lion to wonder if he should feel complimented or insulted, he turned to the others. “Now this is what we’ll do,” he began briskly. “We’ll go down as fast as we can, and hide the minute we touch ground. I think it’s still too early for Faleero to be up and around, but l don’t want to take chances. Is that clear? Then let’s go!”

“Goodbye, Taggle,“‘called Dorothy, as Hob caught her up in his arms. The trip to Earth was much too swift to permit conversation. They landed lightly on the Palace grounds, and with a hasty “Goodbye and good luck,” Hob released her and rose straight up, back into the sky.

Dizzily, Dorothy turned to see how her companions had fared. Rory and the little Jinn were cheerfully unconcerned, but the Lion, after one quick look around, flattened his ears against his head and slunk under a bush.

“Never again,” he was declaring, when they joined him. “I’ll never leave the Emerald City again, and I will never, never NEVER again even look out of a second story window.”

“You won’t ever have to fly again,” Dorothy comforted him. “But it was kinda fun, wasn’t it?”

“FUN!” The Lion gave her a single withering look and flattened himself against the ground with his eyes shut. “I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life! —if that’s what you mean by fun!”

“What should we do now?” asked Rory. “I don’t see anyone around.”

“We’d better get started then,” suggested Jinnicky nervously. “Now much time do you suppose we have?”

“It can’t be much later than six o’clock,” guessed Dorothy. “If Faleero wakes up at seven she won’t be out ‘til about eight, even if she comes out right after breakfast; and if she gets up at eight, she shouldn’t be out before nine; and if…”

“And if she gets up at five—and she’s mean enough to do it—she’ll be out here any minute,” broke in the Lion. “Come on; where do we start?”

“Let’s start up near the Palace before anyone else is up,” proposed Dorothy. “But Jinnicky, how do we know what to look for?”

“We don’t,” returned the little Jinn placidly. “Just look for something new, something that wasn’t here when Ozma was. Faleero must have changed them into something; else — and if I’m right, they’ll be in the Palace or near it. As wicked and malicious as Faleero is, she wouldn’t be satisfied with merely conquering the kingdom.

She’d want her enemies to suffer; and how better could she do that than by keeping them where they would be forced to see all her wicked deeds?”

“That’s right,” agreed the Lion, nodding.

“You and Dorothy will have to find them. Rory and I wouldn’t know what was here before.”

“What if they’re in the Palace?” hazarded Rory.

“That, my boy, is what we’re afraid of,” the Lion told him. “If we don’t find anything on the grounds, we will have to try the Palace itself, and that will be very ticklish work indeed. In any event, Jinnicky will have to stay out of sight. The old fury hates him like poison since he rescued Pumperdink.“ Dorothy was already searching near the Palace. The Lion joined her, and together they went over the grounds thoroughly, gradually working away from the Palace.

Jinnicky heaved a sigh of relief, once they were far enough away to be screened by the thick bushes. He and Rory hung over their friends, pointing out various objects which might have been overlooked. After nearly two hours of this, Jinnicky sat down on the edge of a small fountain to rest. Taking off his lid, he fanned himself gently.

At length his attention was attracted by three small fish in the pool which were swimming back and forth in great agitation. Jinnicky watched them admiringly. They were unusually pretty little fish. One was sparkling green, one glowing red and the third was a smooth shiny black. Fish in Oz can talk, but Jinnicky knew that they seldom say anything worth listening to. Still, the kind-hearted little Jinn leaned close to the water’s edge in order to hear anything they might want to tell him. The fish did not speak, but kept swimming frantically back and forth.

“Be careful, Jinnicky; you’ll fall in,” warned the Lion, while Dorothy regarded him curiously.

“What in Oz are you doing?”

“I thought these fish in here had something to tell me,” explained Jinnicky, straightening up again. “I guess they’re just hungry.”

“They probably are.” Dorothy turned back to her task-then swung around to face him again in great excitement.

“Did you say fish? In that fountain? We never had fish in there! Let me see them!“ She ran to Jinnicky’s side and dropped to her knees beside the pool. The little green fish darted over to her.

“Jinnicky!-It’s Ozma!” cried the little girl. “It must be-1 know it is…!“ The Lion came up beside her. “I believe you’re right,” he agreed.

“The green one is Ozma, the red one Glinda, and…”

“And the black one is the Wizard!” finished Jinnicky jubilantly.

“Change them back quickly!” begged Dorothy, catching his hand imploringly.

“Oh, please, Jinnicky, hurry…!

“Just as quickly as I can,” promised the little Jinn. He took the cart from his sleeve and regarded it thoughtfully. “Now I just wonder…“ A growl from the Lion silenced him. “Someone’s coming,” whispered the big beast. “Hide quickly!”

CHAPTER XIX
OZMA IS RESTORED

All four dived headlong into the bushes beside the fountain. A step sounded on the path and a girl came into sight. Rory had never in his life seen anyone so beautiful. He looked at his companions, wondering if they could possibly be afraid of such a lovely girl. Dorothy and the Lion were watching her grimly, while Jinnicky was staring in frank amazement.

“It’s incredible,” he muttered. “No-one could tell her from Ozma.”

“Sh-h-h…” warned the Lion. He reached out a great paw and drew Rory down beside him. “Don’t make a sound. That’s Faleero.“ Faleero sat down on the edge of the fountain and smiled mockingly at the three fishes. “Good morning, my little friends,” she greeted them. “I have great news for you today:

“As you know, I declared war on the Winkie country several days ago. Last night the Tin Woodman arrived at the Palace. He was very excited, for he didn’t know what it was all about.” The smile grew ugly. “He knows now—he is in the already crowded prison.

“Really, I think I shall have to turn the animals out of the Royal Stables to make more prison space. You can’t imagine how crowded the prison I built has become already. I’m glad I sent your friends away. There is absolutely no room in the prison for them. But I have saved one place for your friend, Dorothy. Won’t she be surprised when she gets back?“ Faleero rose with a cruel laugh, and sauntered back down the path toward the Palace. As soon as she was out of sight, Dorothy ran to the pool. The three fish swam eagerly to meet her.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered tenderly. “Jinnicky is here, and he’ll save you.”

“Take them out of the water, Dorothy,” instructed Jinnicky. “I’ll see what I can do.“ The fish willingly swam into Dorothy’s hands. She lifted them carefully and held them out to Jinnicky. “I’ll have to work fast,” muttered the little Jinn. “They can’t stay out of water long.” Frowning, he selected a small bottle and sprinkled a golden powder over the fish. They stiffened convulsively and lay still Dorothy lifted frightened eyes to Jinnicky’s face. He smiled reassuringly, took the fish from her and wrapped them in his handkerchief.

Then he made a tiny fire of dry leaves and twigs and laid the handkerchief on the fire.

The Lion gulped. “Are you.. are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked huskily. Jinnicky nodded impatiently, his eyes on the fire. The handkerchief began to smolder. All at once it burst into flames. Involuntarily, Dorothy closed her eyes. When she opened them, the lovely little Ruler of all Oz stood before her. The Wizard was shaking Jinnicky’s hand, while Glinda looked on smilingly.

“How can we ever thank you?”’ cried Ozma, as she hugged first Dorothy, then the Lion, and last of all, Jinnicky.

“Jinnicky did it,” answered the little girl, clinging lovingly to her friend.

Jinnicky, red with mingled pride and embarrassment at Ozma’s greeting,  disclaimed all credit. “It was Dorothy and the Lion,” he insisted. “They were the ones who knew you were gone.”

“It was all three of you,” declared Glinda, coming forward to greet them. “And this boy—who is he?“ Rory was hanging back shyly, but now Dorothy tock his hand and introduced him to her friends. Their friendliness quickly put him at ease.

“Cumuland… I remember that country very well,” mused Glinda. “We used to be very friendly some years ago, but suddenly it disappeared, and I have not heard of it since.”

“That was Gip’s doing,” explained Rory. “He forbade any dealings with other countries, and moved the kingdom to the outermost edge of Fairyland. Now that I am King, I hope that your country and mine can be friends again.”

“Indeed they can,” returned Glinda heartily. “I’ll be glad to see the Cumulanders again.“ The Wizard coughed politely. “Hadn’t we better discuss plans to overcome Faleero and get this country back to normal again?”

“I suppose so,” returned Ozma reluctantly. “I’m almost ashamed to face my people again after what Faleero has done to them in my name.”

“Well, you couldn’t help it,” declared Dorothy. “And as soon as everybody finds out what really happened, they’ll love you more than ever.”

“But what must they think of me now?” mourned Ozma.

“I don’t know,” returned Dorothy. “I only stayed one day with you—with Faleero, that is. She wasn’t so very bad then— she was trying to be nice, I guess, but she didn’t know how,” she finished with a laugh.

“She stopped even trying before long,” sighed Glinda. “As soon as she found out how to use the Magic Belt, she ordered all Ozma’s friends from the Palace and set everyone to work.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone who you were?” asked the Lion. “There must have been somebody around once in a while.”

“We couldn’t talk,” explained the Wizard. “That was very clever of Faleero, I must admit. No one ever expects a fish to have much to say, so no one thought it odd that we didn’t speak.“ A sound in the air above them made them raise their heads. A chariot, drawn by six snow-white swans, flashed over them, headed toward the Palace. Glinda looked very angry.

“That must be Falingo in your swan chariot, Glinda,” ventured Dorothy timidly.

She was a little afraid of the powerful Sorceress when she looked so stern. “Perhaps, if we go to the Palace now, we can conquer them all at once.“ Glinda smiled at the little girl’s confidence, but Jinnicky nodded gravely. “It will save time if we take them all together,” he agreed.

“But we’d better have a plan of action.” He and the Wizard walked a short distance away, conferring in low tones. After a while they rejoined the others.

“Jinnicky and I think…” began the Wizard, but he never finished.

“Listen!” ordered the Lion, who for some time had been turning his head uneasily from side to side. A confused muttering came from the direction of the Palace. Quickly this swelled into a roar of anger, and above it they could hear Faleero’s voice in shrill angry tones.

“What do you think it can be?” exclaimed Dorothy, looking apprehensively at her friends.

“It sounds like an uprising!” exclaimed Jinnicky. “Let’s go find out!”

CHAPTER XX
REBELLION IN THE EMERALD CITY

After a long and arduous journey, Betsy, Trot and Cap’n Bill arrived at Glinda’s palace. The supposed Glinda greeted them cordially. “Oh, Glinda!” cried Trot immediately. “Something awful has happened to Ozma. She’s gone and somebody has taken her place.“ Falingo turned white. “How do you know?” she stammered. Luckily for her, no one noticed her confusion.

“She’s been so queer—so cross,” explained Trot. “Then, the day we left, she slapped me, so I knew right away.“ By now Falingo had recovered her composure. “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “Perhaps you made her angry.”

“Ozma wouldn’t get angry at me,” returned Trot proudly. “And even if she did, she would never slap me. Besides, she’s made a lot of new laws about no parties or games, and she’s turned everyone out of the Palace.“ Falingo pondered for a moment. “Suppose you tell me all about it,” she suggested finally. “I don’t think it’s possible that anyone could look enough like Ozma to deceive all her friends, but I’ll admit that what you tell me doesn’t sound at all like Ozma.“ Unsuspectingly they poured out the whole tale. Falingo pretended to be sceptical at first; but gradually she allowed herself to be convinced.

“You were very clever to find her out,” she commented at the end of the story.

“We should have known it long ago,” replied Trot disgustedly. “But it never occurred to me until she slapped me.”

“She really struck you?”

“She certainly did,” answered the child, rubbing her cheek reflectively. “You know Ozma would never do that.”

“No, I don’t suppose she would,” murmured Falingo absently. Then at Trot’s surprised stare, she added hastily, “No, no, of course not.”

“What are you going to do to her?” broke in Cap’ n Bill.

“Who do you suppose it is?” asked Betsy.

“I’ll have to find out,” smiled Falingo. “Perhaps the Book of Records will help me.

As for punishing her, I shall consider the matter very carefully before I decide.”

“She must be a very wicked person,” declared Trot decidedly. “She should be punished very severely.”

“But first make her tell us what she did to Ozma,” advised Betsy. “That’s more important. Ozma can decide what should be done with her.“ Trot and Cap’n Bill agreed heartily with this. Falingo rose. “You must be tired now,” she said. “Rest tonight, and tomorrow we will go to the Emerald City. I must leave you now, and study the Book of Records to find out how to undo this mischief.” She smiled and pressed a button. A maid appeared in the doorway. “Coral, see that my guests are fed and given a place to sleep,” ordered Falingo. Still smiling, she left the room. Coral brought them food and waited until they had eaten. Then she led the little girls to a room, and gave Cap’n Bill the room next door. Too tired to talk, and sure that their troubles were at an end, all three slept soundly until morning.

The next morning they eagerly questioned Falingo. “You were right,” she told them. “I have learned that Ozma has indeed disappeared, and a Gillikin fairy named Faleero is impersonating her.”

“Faleero!” exclaimed all three.

“Yes; do you know her?”

“No, we don’t know her,” replied Trot, “but we’ve certainly heard of her. She conquered Pumperdink once, and Ozma punished her. She must have done this to get even.”

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Falingo dryly.

“But how could she?” asked Betsy wonderingly. “She doesn’t look a bit like Ozma —she’s ugly and wrinkled, and old as the hills.“ Falingo flushed, but said nothing. “If she knows magic, there’s nothing to stop her from looking any way she wants,” explained Cap’n Bill.

“That’s right,” Betsy admitted. “Well, let’s go conquer her.“ Smiling, Falingo led the way into the courtyard where Glinda’s swan chariot was waiting. As they took their places, Falingo spoke to the swans, who rose obediently into the air. The chariot moved swiftly; it was not long before they could see the glittering spires of the Emerald Palace.

A tired, frightened-looking servant led the swans away, while another escorted them to the Throne Room where Faleero was amusing herself by scolding a page. She glanced up in annoyance, but dismissed the frightened page, who ran away crying.

Then, recognizing her visitors, she sprang up angrily.

“Surprised to see us?” smiled Falingo.

“I’m surprised to see these three,” returned Faleero. “I know I told them to leave the Palace and never come back. But since they have, I’m sure I can take care of them.”

“You can’t do anything to us,” cried Trot defiantly. “We know you’re not Ozma!“ For a moment, Faleero stared at the little girl in silence; then shifting her eyes to Falingo, she asked quietly, “How did they find out?”

“How?” sneered Falingo contemptuously. “How do you suppose? I warned you that your bad temper would give you away.“ Betsy stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment. “Why! — you’re not Glinda either!“ Falingo laughed. “No, my dear, I’m not,” she confessed. “Still, you must admit that I played my part a great deal more convincingly than Faleero has.”

“Who-who are you?” faltered Cap’n Bill hoarsely.

“That’s none of your business!” snapped Faleero. “Now keep still while I decide what to do with you.“ Both little girls caught Cap’n Bill’s hands apprehensively. He faced the two wicked old fairies bravely. “You’re going to get into a heap of trouble if you keep on this way. Nobody has ever conquered Oz yet that’s got away with it. When Ozma gets back…”

“Ozma isn’t getting back—I’ve seen to that,” interrupted Faleero. “Now be quiet— I’m thinking….” She studied them carefully. “I think I’ll change the girls to a pair of jade figures to go on either side of the mantel. As for the old man…”

“Why not make a figure of him, just as he is?” suggested Falingo maliciously.

“He’d make a contrast with all the pretty things here.“ Faleero nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. I believe I will.”

“Now look here!” broke in Cap’n Bill. “You can’t get away with that. You’d better let us go if you know what’s good for you.“ Faleero turned on him savagely, but before she could speak, the door flew open.

Kettywig burst in breathless and panting. Trot and Betsy turned to him in a hope that was quickly dispelled when he spoke.

“The people have revolted!” he cried. “They are storming the gates right now. I told you your greed and harshness would ruin everything.“ Faleero’s face contorted with rage. “Let them come! I’ll speak to them from the balcony. If they refuse to submit, I’ll turn them all to cobblestones and walk on them!”

“What about these three?” inquired Falingo, a wave of her hand indicating the prisoners.

“They can wait!” snapped Faleero. “After I have dealt with this rabble, I’ll attend to them.” Flinging open the door, she stepped out on the balcony. Falingo and Kettywig followed. After a moment’s hesitation, so did Trot, Betsy and Cap’n Bill. A cry went up from the throng of people in the garden. Faleero held up a hand for silence.

“Return to your homes at once, or it will be the worse for you,” she began threateningly. Before she could say more, she was drowned out in a roar of protesting voices. “Silence!” she screeched. The startled people fell silent once more, and she continued. “As Ruler of Oz, I command you to disperse and go back to your homes.”

“She’s not Ozma!” screamed Betsy, attempting to brush past her. “She’s an impostor! She’s…” The rest of the sentence was smothered as Falingo clapped a hand over her mouth and roughly dragged her back. Kettywig swung threateningly toward Trot and Cap’n Bill, but they did not even see him.

With popping eyes, they were staring at the foot of the garden.

Kettywig turned to see—and stood rooted in amazement and fear.

Hurrying toward them were Ozma, Glinda and the Wizard, accompanied by Jinnicky, Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion and a strange winged boy. Faleero saw them and stopped dead in the middle of a sentence, her mouth open, paralyzed with fright. The angry crowd, sensing the disturbance, turned to behold the incredible sight of their little Ruler approaching them, while on the balcony stood her counterpart.

CHAPTER XXI
PEACE RESTORED

“Seize them! They are impostors!” cried Ozma.

Most of the crowd stood still, overcome by surprise, but a few quicker witted men advanced threateningly toward the balcony where Faleero stood. She looked about for a way to escape.

“Use the Magic Belt and turn them all to toads!” screamed Falingo. With a wild yell, Cap’n Rill leaped at Faleero and snatched away the Magic Belt. Shrieking with rage and terror, the old Fairy rushed at him. Trot and Betsy sprang to his aid, but as Falingo and Kettywig quickly joined Faleero, the struggle seemed unequal.

With a rush of wings, the strange boy hovered over them. “Throw it!” he called.

Without stopping to think, Cap’n Bill threw. Deftly catching the Belt midair, Rory sailed back to Ozma, landed gently and presented the Belt to her.

Then, pushing through the stupified crowd, Ozma confronted the cowering Faleero. Jinnicky hurried to her side, a silver flagon in his hand. At Ozma’s nod, he tossed the contents in the faces of the three conspirators. At its touch, the enchantment was broken.

The startled people now saw before them Faleero scowling malignantly, Falingo frightened and defiant, and Kettywig rubbing his hands together uneasily.

Ozma faced the crowd. “You can all see that these wicked creatures have been impersonating us. Before you return to your homes, I wish you would go through the city and tell everyone what has taken place here. Everything will be as it was before she came.“ The people started to move away, then paused indecisively. One of the men addressed Ozma. “What will you do to these people, your Majesty?“ Ozma hesitated. “What would you suggest?” she asked finally.

“I’d turn them into toads as she suggested,” answered the man, pointing to Falingo, “but, as I know you wouldn’t do that, I think they should be made to drink the Water of Oblivion and be sent back to their homes.“ Ozma looked at the sullen faces of the prisoners. “That would be best,” she agreed. “Take them to the Fountain.“ The conspirators were hustled away to the Fountain where the magic water was thrust upon them. As they drank, the wickedness was erased from their faces.

They looked at the excited crowd in helpless bewilderment.

With a quick word, Ozma sent them back to their home in Follensby Forest, and for all I know, they are living there yet.

As the people wandered off, laughing and shouting their pleasure at the pleasant manner in which the revolution had been settled, Ozma and her friends entered the Palace. Grouped in a cozy circle, they began recounting their many adventures.

A rap was heard at the door, and a little maid entered. “Oh, my goodness!” gasped Dorothy. “I had forgotten all about her.”

“About Jellia?” inquired Ozma, puzzled.

“That isn’t Jellia,” explained Dorothy gently. “That’s Faleero’s servant.“ Ozma stared, bewildered, and Dubra hid her face in her apron and wailed. “I didn’t want to do it. They made me do it,” she sobbed over and over again.

“All right,” soothed Ozma wearily. “Stop crying. I’ll send you back to Follensby Forest.”

“Better give her a drink from the Fountain first,” counseled Cap’n Bill.

“I’ll get it,” volunteered Trot, running out of the room.

“Wait a minute,” called Betsy suddenly, as Trot returned. “Make her tell us what Faleero did with Scraps and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers and all the rest of our friends.“ Dubra only cried harder when Ozma questioned her. “I don’t know anything about them,” she insisted.

“Well, stop crying and tell us where the Magic Picture is anyway,” ordered Dorothy sharply.

“I’ll get it.” Dubra left the room, wiping her eyes on her apron, returning shortly with the picture. “Faleero told me to take care of it, so I kept it under my pillow,” she sniffed.

“Here — drink this,” commanded Trot, thrusting the cup into her hands.

Obediently, Dubra drank, and Ozma quickly sent her to join her mistress.

With the help of the Magic Picture, Ozma had little trouble locating and restoring her missing friends. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers resigned on the spot and sulked for three hours before they could persuade him to take his job back. The Tin Woodman went back to his kingdom with the glad news that it was all a mistake, and the war was called off. At Dorothy’s request, Ozma sent a message to Guph, ordering him to return the Gnome Kingdom to Kaliko.

Jinnicky volunteered to undertake the restoration of Pumperdink.

Ozma willingly consented, and transported the little Jinn to the spot by means of her Magic Belt. In the Magic Picture, they watched Pumperdink grow from an ant hill to its former splendor. The beetle that was Kabumpo was difficult to find, but at last Jinnicky located him sitting disconsolately on the branch of a tree.

It took twelve powders and at least thirty magic words and passes to restore him, but at length the watchers had the pleasure of seeing the Elegant Elephant rapturously greeting the little Jinn.

That evening, Dorothy approached Ozma as she sat in the garden. “Tomorrow’s Thursday,” she began.

“That’s just what I was thinking,” smiled the little fairy, slipping an arm around her friend’s waist. “It’s the day for the Scarecrow’s party. Won’t it be fun?“ And although I was not invited, I am sure it will be the merriest party ever held in all Oz.

THE END

Table of Contents

- The Red Jinn in

- CHAPTER I THE SCARECROW’S PARTY
- CHAPTER II FALEERO PLOTS MISCHIEF
- CHAPTER III DOROTHY’S DISCOVERY
- CHAPTER IV IN THE TUNNEL
- CHAPTER V TROUBLE AT THE EMERALD PALACE
- CHAPTER VI ESCAPE FROM THE LOWERS
- CHAPTER VII GLIM, THE GLOW WORM
- CHAPTER VIII THE END OF THE TUNNEL
- CHAPTER IX AT THE PALACE OF THE RED JINN
- CHAPTER X ALIBABBLE GOES ON STRIKE
- CHAPTER XI BY ORDER OF HER MAJESTY
- CHAPTER XII LOST IN A STRANGE LAND

- CHAPTER XIII IN THE HANDS OF THE WICKED KING

- CHAPTER XIV JINNICKY’S’ MAGIC
- CHAPTER XV THE SEARCH FOR RORY
- CHAPTER XVI THE LOST KING IS FOUND
- CHAPTER XVII JINNICKY TO THE RESCUE
- CHAPTER XVIII DOWN TO EARTH
- CHAPTER XIX OZMA IS RESTORED
- CHAPTER XX REBELLION IN THE EMERALD CITY