"I don't know yet," said the King, "but I will find something. We haven't had a prisoner for years, and now that I've got one I'm not going to let him go again for such a simple reason as his having done nothing wrong--am I right, ladies and gentlemen?" "Always right--never left," cried the retinue, who were now entering the palace. "I thought you would agree with me," said the King, "but sometimes I'm left--it's a poor ruler that doesn't work both ways--come in." Billy was hustled into the palace, which he found hung with torn and faded tapestry. The floor had not been swept or scrubbed for years, and there did not seem to be a solid four legged chair in the room with the exception perhaps of the throne, which was built entirely of Irish potatoes. "And now," said the King, putting his crown rakishly on one side of his head, "now I'm prepared to open court. First, has any one here any petitions--in writing?" When he said this an old man hobbled up, and kneeling with many crackings of joints before the King, laid a paper at his feet. "What is it?" asked the King. "A request, sire, that my daughter----" "Refused," said O'Fudge. "Who's next, please--leave the papers." "But, sire----" "I positively must refuse, but I thank you for the petition; me crown is a bit too large for comfort," and folding the paper into a strip he placed it in his crown, which he put on with much satisfaction. "So that's over with--bring the bye before me." "He is here, sire," said Private Swash Buckler, leading Billy before the throne. "Kneel, boy." "What's your name?" said the King. "Billy Bounce," said Billy. And what a shout and roar went up from the company--even the King jumped to his feet in his excitement and threw his crown into the air. "Billy Bounce!" they cried, "Billy Bounce--we've caught Billy Bounce!" "What a good day's work!" cried the King--"$3.75 from the Herald and $5.99 from Bumbus for catching Billy Bounce." "But, your Majesty--" began Billy. "Don't talk to me," interrupted the King, "unless you can offer $6.00 to be set free." "Alas! I haven't that much," said Billy. "Too bad--too bad," said O'Fudge; "and now I suppose I'll have to off with your head." "Oh! sir--please, please don't!" cried Billy, struggling with Swash Buckler. "Don't lose your head," said the King, "because I want to have it chopped off." "But, sir--" began Billy. "Sire," and a gray-bearded man, wearing a tall pointed cap and a long, flowing gown covered with the signs of the Zodiac, walked to the King's side and whispered in his ear. "Are ye sure?" whispered O'Fudge. "Certain, your Majesty," answered the man. "The Court Astrologer," announced the King to the people, "tells me that Billy Bounce's star predicts that anyone who kills him will himself be hanged." "Then I'll be hanged if I do!" cried the executioner, throwing down his meat cleaver. [Illustration: _The Astrologer._]