Tatters shook his head feebly. He could not help thinking how far out of their way they had fallen, and how very far they were from the Emerald City and even from Ragbad itself. He blinked hastily at the thought of Mrs Sew-and-Sew and the cozy red castle on the hill, and he hoped Pudge had remembered to feed his pigeons. Tatters himself never expected to see them again. Only Urtha seemed really to be enjoying the adventure. Her little flower face was wreathed in smiles and her lovely flower frock fairly sparkled with freshness. “Isn’t this fun!” she kept repeating merrily. “Isn’t this fun?” Grampa nodded, but not very enthusiastically. “Do you think we’ll ever get back on top again?” asked Tatters gloomily. “Of course,” spluttered Grampa. “We’ve fallen down about as far as we can fall and from now on things will take an upward turn, you see. Hello, this water’s kinda hot! Great swordfish, what’s that noise?” “The fortune! The fortune!” shrieked Bill, jumping up and down upon Tatters’ thin chest and ducking the Prince at every jump. “The fortune!” With a great effort, Grampa sat up in the water, which was already beginning to steam, and then fell backward with a terrific splash. “Halt!” commanded Grampa, trying to push against the current with his sword. “Stop! Halt!” A great roaring was in their ears and the green light had changed to a red hot glow. Now Tatters sat up. Then he, too, began to kick wildly about in an effort to stop himself. And no wonder! They were being carried straight toward a roaring red island of fire! “The fortune! The fortune!” screeched Bill, more excited than ever. “Fortune!” groaned Grampa, reaching out to catch Urtha, who was floating rapidly past. “Misfortune! Halt! Stop! Everybody back!” “Better stop backing and look on that bottle,” gulped the Prince of Ragbad. “Better see if there’s any cure for—for this!” He waved desperately ahead. And Grampa, with a little choke of fright, pulled out the wizard’s medicine. “Burns, scalds and heat strokes,” faltered Grampa. “Well, we’d better take the cure for all three. A teaspoonful was prescribed in each case and with trembling hands the old soldier measured out the doses. Bill could not swallow, so the old soldier dashed the medicine over his head.” “I think you’re a fairy,” puffed Grampa, throwing a dose in the face of the surprised little flower girl, “but if anything should happen I’d never forgive myself.” Tatters came next and by this time the water was so hot that Grampa himself began to groan with discomfort. So he hastily swallowed his three spoonfuls, corked the bottle and prepared for the worst. But immediately everything grew better. The waves of heat from the island seemed only pleasant breezes now and the steaming water did not even feel hot. Before they had time to wonder at all this, they were washed up on the burning sands of Fire Island itself.