The Collected Works of L. Frank Baum (Illustrated). L. Frank Baum

      “And where did the Wizard get it?” she continued gravely.

      “I am told he took it from Pastoria, the former King,” said the Scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the Sorceress.

      “Then,” declared Glinda, “the throne of the Emerald City belongs neither to you nor to Jinjur, but to this Pastoria from whom the Wizard usurped it.”

      “That is true,” acknowledged the Scarecrow, humbly; “but Pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place.”

      “Pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the Emerald City. Did you know that?” questioned the Sorceress.

      “No,” replied the Scarecrow. “But if the girl still lives I will not stand in her way. It will satisfy me as well to have Jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. In fact, it isn’t much fun to be King, especially if one has good brains. I have known for some time that I am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. But where is the girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?”

      “Her name is Ozma,” answered Glinda. “But where she is I have tried in vain to discover. For the Wizard of Oz, when he stole the throne from Ozma’s father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which I am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being discovered—even by so experienced a Sorceress as myself.”

      “That is strange,” interrupted the WoggleBug, pompously. “I have been informed that the Wonderful Wizard of Oz was nothing more than a humbug!”

      “Nonsense!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. “Didn’t he give me a wonderful set of brains?”

      “There’s no humbug about my heart,” announced the Tin Woodman, glaring indignantly at the WoggleBug.

      “Perhaps I was misinformed,” stammered the Insect, shrinking back; “I never knew the Wizard personally.”

      “Well, we did,” retorted the Scarecrow, “and he was a very great Wizard, I assure you. It is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great Wizard how—let me ask—could he have hidden this girl Ozma so securely that no one can find her?”

      “I—I give it up!” replied the WoggleBug, meekly.

      “That is the most sensible speech you’ve made,” said the Tin Woodman.

      “I must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden,” resumed the Sorceress, thoughtfully. “I have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the Wizard while he was in our land of Oz—or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. This book I will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost Ozma. In the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. I will grant you another audience tomorrow.”

      With this gracious speech Glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the Queen of the Southland had surrounded her royal palace.

      On the following morning they again appeared before Glinda, who said to them:

      “I have searched carefully through the records of the Wizard’s actions, and among them I can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. He ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old Mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot.”

      “Ah! that last is certainly suspicious!” exclaimed the Pumpkinhead.

      “Not necessarily,” said the Scarecrow. “he may, have had corns. Now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious.”

      “Perhaps it is a polite custom in Omaha, from which great country the Wizard originally came,” suggested the Tin Woodman.

      “It may be,” admitted the Scarecrow.

      “But why,” asked Glinda, “did he make three secret visits to old Mombi?”

      “Ah! Why, indeed!” echoed the WoggleBug, impressively.

      “We know that the Wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic,” continued Glinda; “and this he would not have done had she not assisted him in some way. So we may suspect with good reason that Mombi aided him to hide the girl Ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the Emerald City, and a constant danger to the usurper. For, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their Queen and restore her to her rightful position.”

      “An able argument!” cried the Scarecrow. “I have no doubt that Mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. But how does that knowledge help us?”

      “We must find Mombi,” replied Glinda, “and force her to tell where the girl is hidden.”

      “Mombi is now with Queen Jinjur, in the Emerald, City” said Tip. “It was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made Jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch’s power.”

      “Then,” decided Glinda, “I will march with my army to the Emerald City, and take Mombi prisoner. After that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about Ozma.”

      “She is a terrible old woman!” remarked Tip, with a shudder at the thought of Mombi’s black kettle; “and obstinate, too.”

      “I am quite obstinate myself,” returned the Sorceress, with a sweet smile. “so I do not fear Mombi in the least. Today I will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon the Emerald City at daybreak tomorrow.”

      21. The Tin-Woodman Plucks a Rose

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      The Army of Glinda the Good looked very grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. The uniforms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother-of-pearl. All the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army.

      The Sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors andwindows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants.

      The Scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the Gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as Glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. The Gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palanquin in which rode the Sorceress.

      “Be careful,” said the Tin Woodman to the Scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. “You might fall.”

      “It wouldn’t matter,” remarked the educated WoggleBug. “he can’t get broke so long as he is stuffed with money.”

      “Didn’t I ask you” began Tip, in a reproachful voice.

      “You did!” said the WoggleBug, promptly. “And I beg your pardon. I will really try to restrain myself.”

      “You’d better,” declared the boy. “That is, if you wish to travel in our company.”

      “Ah! I couldn’t bear to part with you now,” murmured the Insect, feelingly; so Tip let the subject drop.

      The army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the Emerald City. By the dim light of the new moon, however, Glinda’s forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon