MoG.o.dore Meets More Magic.

SOON the fragrance of an appetizing repast began to float out to the unhappy prisoners in the garden. Dusk turned to darkness, lights shone from every room in the palace, and in dreadful suspense and discomfort they waited for MoG.o.dore's next move.

"That robber baron really means to marry you," groaned Trot, who was tied to a tree near Ozma, and as if to confirm her words two spearmen came marching determinedly toward them.

"Her Majesty, Queen Ozma is wanted within," bawled the first man, looking around. "Ozma of Oz, this way please." Immediately the little fairy was released from her chains.

"Never mind," she whispered as Trot burst into tears, "remember, Sc.r.a.ps is free and will find a way to help us."

"She'd better hurry," shivered Dorothy, and with sinking hearts they all saw their little leader marched away between the guards. Well-filled plates were being brought out to the soldiers in the garden; but no refreshment of any kind was offered to the prisoners, nor did Betsy Bobbin, crouched in the center of the b.u.t.terfly bush, find any opportunity to escape from her hiding place. Inside a great feast was laid in the banquet hall and the rude warriors were already seated and banging on the table with their gold forks and knives. Wagarag, an ap.r.o.n tied hastily over his armor, was supervising the festivities and MoG.o.dore, seated at the head of the table, without even rising waved Ozma to a place beside him. With a little sigh of despair, Ozma slipped into the green throne chair.

"Your future Lady in Waiting," grunted MoG.o.dore, pointing rudely to Shirley Sunshine, who sat on his other side. "I did truly intend to marry this Princess, but find you so much more charming I have chosen you instead."

"Hurrah for the Queen of Oz and Baffleburg!" yelled the spearmen boisterously. Shirley, under cover of the rattling knives and forks tried to whisper her story to Ozma, but MoG.o.dore's loud roars for food soon put an end to that and, pale with distaste and fright, the two little Princesses sat silent, scarcely touching a mouthful of the food that was unceremoniously dumped upon their plates. With a shudder, Ozma looked around her tidy castle. Mud had been tracked over all the velvet rugs, pictures hung sideways and the floor was strewn with broken vases and plates that spearmen playfully hurled at one another between courses. If Sc.r.a.ps succeeded in reaching the castle of Glinda, the good Sorceress who ruled over the South, Ozma knew this powerful ally would immediately fly to her a.s.sistance. With agonized ears, she listened for the wings of Glinda's swan chariot. But time went on and no one came. Now that the hunger of the rough company was appeased, they grew more noisy than ever.

"Call this a battle," wheezed Bragga to MoG.o.dore, "are there to be no hangings, no bon fires, no killings of any kind? You promised us a real war. This is as tame as a taffy pull." Tugging discontentedly at his long mustache, the Captain of the Guard looked sulkily at his chief.

"After the wedding you may kill whom you please," promised MoG.o.dore indifferently, "but now I'm going to have another try at that magic belt."

"Take care! Take care!" bleated Wagarag, from the other end of the banquet hall. "I'll wager you're thinking of that forbidden flagon again."

"Right," boomed the baron, sweeping a dozen plates to the floor with his arm. "And right now, I'm going to transport that flagon to this castle and find out what is in it and why it is forbidden. What will happen if the seal is broken? It cannot harm me now. I am no longer Baron of Baffleburg, but King of OZ-King by right of seizure and conquest."

"You'll not be the lawful King till you marry this Princess,"

quavered Wagarag, raising a trembling finger and pointing to Ozma.

"The old bone is right," grumbled Bragga. "Why not marry her now and be done with it?"

"Marry her now," echoed all the spearmen, "and let us get on with the killing." Pushing back her chair, Ozma jumped up and glanced desperately around the table. Would no one save her from this robber baron and his band? MoG.o.dore, too, rose to his feet.

"I'm King now, I tell you," he insisted stubbornly, "and I'll marry when I'm ready, but now I am going to end the miserable mystery of the forbidden flagon. I command the forbidden flagon and its guard to appear before me," bellowed MoG.o.dore, staring around defiantly. Scarcely had the sound of his voice died away before there came a crash and splinter of gla.s.s and in through a window back of the baron burst a strange flying figure. It was Jack Pumpkinhead, clasping the precious flagon in one hand and holding to his head with the other; brought all the way from the Red Jinn's palace by the mysterious power of the magic belt. With a hysterical little cry, Ozma rushed forward.

"Jack! Jack!" panted Ozma, "have you come to save us?" Solemnly Jack nodded and before a man at the table could move, he whisked off his head, set it on a chair and then and not till then did he hurl the forbidden flagon straight at the Baron of Baffleburg. How he ever managed to aim so true without his head to help him I have no idea, but with a resounding crack the flagon splintered to bits on MoG.o.dore's nose and a thin red liquid began to pour down his cheeks and drop off his chin.

No longer need MoG.o.dore wonder what would happen, when the seal on the forbidden flask was broken! For what would happen, had happened! Stars! Yes!

CHAPTER 19.

The Forbidden Flagon Acts.

THE GREAT banquet hall seemed suddenly deserted, and except for faint squeaks and m.u.f.fled screams quite silent. Shirley Sunshine, hurrying around the table, clasped Ozma's hands and both girls stared in stunned silence at Jack, who was calmly replacing his head.

"Why, where have they gone?" cried Ozma. Then all at once she saw, for tumbling from the chairs, scurrying under tables and vainly trying to hide themselves, was a host of men no bigger than brownies.

"They're shrunk," shouted Jack delightedly. "Ha there, MoG.o.dore the Mighty, mighty little you are now!" Fuming and raging, the midget baron tried to quiet his frightened retainers, but when Toto, Dorothy's little dog, came bounding through the doorway, he fled ignominiously and hid behind the hearth broom.

"Good dog, Toto, drive them in the corner, approved Jack and Toto, much as a shepherd dog chases sheep, drove the terrified horde of invaders into a corner and gravely sat down to watch them, snapping at any who tried to escape and snuffing at one and then another most curiously.

"It was the forbidden flagon," explained Jack, as Ozma dropped into a chair and looked in complete bewilderment at the brownie baron and his band. "Is anyone hurt? Did I come in time?"

"Yes! Yes!" sighed Ozma, pushing back her tumbled curls. "But how did you know? Where have you been, Jack dear?"

"Where haven't I been," puffed Jack Pumpkinhead, striding excitedly up and down. "Say, what's that noise? Where is everybody?"

"Oh!" cried Ozma, jumping up hurriedly. "The others are in the garden. We must free them at once." But before Shirley Sunshine, Ozma or Jack were halfway to the door it burst open, and the whole company of courtiers and celebrities came charging into the banquet hall.

"Surrender, villains," bellowed Sir Hokus, glaring around furiously. "Where is that braggart Baron!"

"We'll pull his nose! We'll tweak his ears! Glinda the Good has come, she's here!"

exulted Sc.r.a.ps, shaking her cotton fists joyfully, for she had been immediately restored to her own cheerful self by the Good Sorceress of the South. Glinda, in her lovely red robe and headdress, peered sternly over Sc.r.a.p's shoulder, ready to bring her strongest magic into play. Seeing no one in the room but Ozma, Jack and Shirley Sunshine, they all stopped short; then catching sight of MoG.o.dore and his midgets, cowering in the corner, they surged forward in still greater astonishment.

"What happened?" demanded Dorothy, seizing Ozma's hands.

"The spearmen in the garden suddenly disappeared. Sc.r.a.ps reached Glinda's castle and Glinda came and released us. But what ever happened in here? How did that monster grow so tiny?"

"Perhaps Jack can tell you," sighed Ozma, who was as puzzled as anyone over the curious occurrences of the last few minutes.

"I can," announced Jack, stepping forward importantly, "but it is a long, long story."

"Then do let's sit down," groaned Trot, for she was mortally tired from the long stand in the garden.

"Are we saved?" quavered the Cowardly Lion, as the stiff and weary company fell into the chairs so recently vacated by the conquerors of Oz. Jack nodded emphatically.

"Then I will attend to the prisoners," boomed the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, springing out from behind a pillar, and very brave since the enemy had been reduced. Striding over to the corner, he stood over the disconsolate warriors, his gun sternly pointed downward. Now Betsy picked up the magic belt from the floor, where it had fallen when MoG.o.dore shrunk, and fastened it thankfully round Ozma's waist. Sc.r.a.ps set the emerald crown upon her curly head, and with great gentleness and ceremony the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman conducted the little ruler to her rightful place at the head of the table. Then the Scarecrow ran out to release the servants, who were locked up in the summer house, the Wizard ran to see if his black bag was safe, Trot wound up Tik Tok, who was completely run down by his terrible experiences, and everybody settled back expectantly to hear what Jack Pumpkinhead had to say.

"Now tell us exactly what happened," begged Betsy Bobbin, as the Scarecrow and all the servants came marching into the dining hall and the Wizard, tightly clutching his black bag, slipped into a seat beside Dorothy.

"Well," said Jack, with a dignified little cough, "before I begin to tell you that, there is something I must do and three brave comrades to be released from an enchantment. The advice of my friend, the Red Jinn, worked once and I shall therefore try it again."

"Before he speaks he must act," chuckled the Scarecrow, who had completely recovered his good humor. "Well, my boy, actions speak louder than words." Leaning on both elbows, the Scarecrow looked on with great interest as Jack s.n.a.t.c.hed the pirate sack from his shoulder, turned it inside out and gave it three quick shakes.

CHAPTER 20.

The Wedding Feast.

IS IT a nightmare?" shivered Betsy, clutching Trot's arm, "or a Hallowe'en party? Am I really here, and are they?" And well might she ask, for the last shake of the pirate's sack had filled the room with Fraid Cats and Scares. Screaming, groaning, s.n.a.t.c.hing at one another and the Oz folk, the Scares swarmed this way and that, until the confusion was terrible.

"Actions speak louder than words," mumbled the Scarecrow.

"Well, I do not like their actions at all. Call these comrades, friend Jack?

Help! Begone! Away with you!" Jumping up the Scarecrow waved his napkin wildly around his head, and all the others, hastily pushing back their chairs, rushed to the a.s.sistance of Ozma, who was completely surrounded by the ugly intruders. Jack Pumpkinhead was so stunned and startled by this unexpected happening that he stood perfectly still. Then, resolved to go through with the matter, he shook the sack three times more and this time with the desired result.

"Why it's Peter!" roared Sir Hokus, disentangling himself from ten Scares and hurrying over to the little boy who had just tumbled out of the sack. "Peter, the pitcher-and-" Thumping Scares both left and right, the Good Knight looked doubtfully at the Iffin and Belfaygor, who had rolled out of the bag after Peter himself. "Who are these?" muttered Sir Hokus, making ready to whack the great red monster if it showed signs of attack.

"Don't mind us," begged the Iffin, glaring around the banquet hall.

"Keep working! Keep working. I'll help you!" And help he did, with teeth, tail and claw.

"Where am I? How did I get here? How did they get here?"

muttered Peter, rubbing his eyes dizzily and trying to collect himself, for he remembered nothing since he had been swallowed by the sack. But he soon recovered, and fighting his way through the frenzied crowd till he reached Ozma's side, cried excitedly. "They're Scares, your Highness. Quick! Send them back to Scare City, before they break everything to pieces!" Glinda and the Wizard had already started an incantation to rid the castle of the horrible horde, but before it was half spoken, Ozma, without waiting for Peter to explain, arose and in a slightly trembling voice called, "I command these people and creatures to return to Scare City at once." And at once, and all together they did. And now straightening their collars and settling their ties, for the encounter had been rough and furious, the Oz folk gazed at Peter and his comrades as curiously as they had gazed upon their pigmy conquerors and the unlovely citizens of Scare City.

"If someone will just explain," said Ozma. "Everything's so terribly mixed up."

"If someone doesn't explain, I shall burst," declared Betsy Bobbin, bouncing out of her chair. "Have you come back to stay, Peter dear, and who are these others?" Peter was a bit breathless and confused himself and looked anxiously around for the baron. But Belfaygor had slipped off unnoticed with Shirley Sunshine.

"Well this," began Peter, placing his hand on the red monster's head, "this is Snif, an Iffin, I mean a Griffin."

"If Snifs an Iffin or a Griffin, I s'pose at us he'd soon be sniffin!"

ventured Sc.r.a.ps, putting her finger in corner of her mouth.

"If I should snif at folks so kind, I'd be most rude and unrefined."

replied the Iffin, with a wink at the Patchwork Girl, and this little exchange of verses relieved the strain that the whole company had been under.

"Shall I tell the story, or will you?" whispered Jack Pumpkinhead, stepping closer to Peter.

"You," begged Peter, staring with round eyes at MoG.o.dore and his little men.

"They've been eating shrinking violets," muttered the Iffin, rubbing his eyes with one paw and staring even harder than Peter.

"No,it was the flagon," explained Jack, "the forbidden flagon reduced them to midgets. But what became of Belfaygor's beard!"

"It disappeared into the magic sack," grinned Belfaygor, coming into the room at that moment with the little Princess on his arm. "And glad I am that it's gone. I'll never wear another beard as long as I live."

"Beard," put in the Soldier with the Green Whiskers eagerly, "did you have a beard as long and splendid as mine?"

"Did I!" groaned the baron, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Ask Peter!" Taking another look at the Soldier with Green Whiskers, he shuddered and turned away. "You remind me of something I'm trying to forget," said Belfaygor.

Now all of this only served to increase the interest and curiosity of the already curious company. "Tell us! Tell us!" cried Dorothy impatiently.

So, after Belfaygor and Shirley Sunshine had been properly introduced, Jack Pumpkinhead began the strange story of their journey from Scare City to Baffleburg and from Baffleburg to Swing City and his own transportation to the capitol. And while he spoke, the footmen and other servants moved quietly about, sweeping up broken gla.s.s, clearing away the table and removing all traces of the rude baron's short reign in the palace. Guarded over by Toto and the Soldier with Green Whiskers, MoG.o.dore and his men crouched miserably together, wondering what would become of them.

Being merciless themselves, they expected no mercy from their captors. In small hoa.r.s.e voices, they berated MoG.o.dore for meddling with the forbidden flagon and bitterly denounced him for the terrible misfortune that had overtaken them. The rest of the midgets had been discovered and marched in from the garden and soon after word had been sent out through the city that the baron was captured, Unc Nunkie and his nephew Ojo arrived, driving the rest of the baron's tiny warriors and horses before them, so that the entire army were now rounded up in the corner of the banquet hall. But so intent was the company upon Jack's amazing story they scarcely heard the grumbling and complaining of the little men or the frightened neighs of the toy-size steeds.

In the kitchen another banquet was soon under way, more and more candles were lighted and soon the castle began to reflect its old time cheer and friendliness. Little gasps and exclamations of astonishment punctuated Jack's recital and he had to tell over and over how they had escaped from Baffleburg, how Snif had dwindled down when he ate the shrinking violets; how Belfaygor's enchanted beard had helped them out of difficulty and how the mischievous pirate sack had swallowed three of the company, when they were needed most of all. Peter, Belfaygor and Snif were as interested as the others in Jack's visit to the Red Jinn and in the advice that jolly wizard had given.

"You remember the label on the forbidden flagon said that whoever broke the seal would bring a disaster upon his own head?" said Jack, turning to his comrades. Peter and the baron both nodded and Snif waved his tail to show he remembered, too.

"Well," smiled Jack, "the Red Jinn told me to remove my head before throwing the flagon and thus avoid the disaster."

"So that's why you took off your pumpkin," murmured Ozma, who had been puzzled by this strange action of Jack's.

"And he also told me that to release the prisoners from the pirate sack, I must turn it inside out and shake it three times," went on Jack impressively. "So when MoG.o.dore transported me suddenly to the palace, I did both of these things."

"You certainly did," agreed the Scarecrow, shaking his finger at Jack Pumpkinhead, "and brought a horde of horrors about our ears.

"I forgot about the Scares," admitted Jack apologetically, "but they're back where they belong, now, and everything has turned out for the best."

"It certainly has," exclaimed Ozma, jumping up impulsively. "You and Peter, Snif and this brave baron have saved the Kingdom of Oz!" Jack was so overcome by these words that he lost his balance and sat down. But he was quickly pulled to his feet, and next instant the rafters rang with rousing cheers for the four valiant rescuers.

"I wish my grandchildren could hear this," sighed the Iffin, resting his chin on one claw.

"Oh! Have you grandchildren?" asked Ozma, leaning forward politely.

"No," murmured the Iffin in an embarra.s.sed voice, "but I may have. And they'll be interested to hear about this."

"Take my advice and never have any grandchildren," whispered the Scarecrow confidentially. "I'm a grandfather, and I know." Before he had time to explain what he meant, two footmen came grandly forward to announce that dinner was ready, and no one, I a.s.sure you, was sorry for that.

"I know what to do," cried Dorothy as the green coated servitors began marching in with trays of savory meats and vegetables. "Let this be a wedding feast for Belfaygor and Shirley Sunshine."

"Hurray for a wedding feast," shouted the Iffin. "Grr-rah!"

forgetting he had recovered his growl, the red monster let out such a terrific roar that the Cowardly Lion swooned away and had to be revived with a jug of cider. But he soon recovered and a wedding feast it was and fit for a royal bride, I do a.s.sure you. Snif had eight geranium plants and an Easter lily and was happier than he had ever been in his whole fabulous existence. Never in the history of Oz was there a merrier banquet nor a happier crowd.

Delighted to have Peter with them again, the Oz folk forgot their recent capture and had such a time as only those dear and delightful folk can have.

Jack Pumpkinhead insisted upon being lit up for the celebration, so he was.

Snif and Sc.r.a.ps kept the company in gales of laughter with their rollicking rhymes and when the wedding was solemnized by the highest judge in Ozma's court, Belfaygor and his bride were toasted in tall tumblers of Ozade and simply showered with emeralds and quickly gathered gifts of every sort and description.

"What did it feel like to disappear into that sack?" asked Trot, in a little pause following the wedding.

"Well, once," said Peter, fixing his eyes thoughtfully on the Iffin, "once I had a tooth pulled and took gas. It was like that, Trot. I just went out that's all." At once the others began to recall their own experiences with vanishings and disappearances and not till daybreak did any one think of retiring. Then the Baron of Baffleburg and his grumbling little army were locked up in the pantry for safety and Peter, snuggling down in his emerald studded bed, decided that this adventure was even more exciting than the last one.

"I wish I could take Snif back to Philadelphia with me," sighed the little boy as he finally dozed off to sleep.

CHAPTER 21.