“Is it the fortune?” asked Bill, hopping out of Tatters’ arms. “You said land—or gold, and this is a golden land.” Grampa was too dazed to answer. Finding himself completely fire proof was strange enough, but actually walking on an island of fire seemed unbelievable. “Wonder what Pudge would say to this,” mused Grampa, as Tatters rushed over to his side. Urtha was already dancing about on the glowing sands as happily as she had danced in the wizard’s garden. “Here come the firemen!” cried Prince Tatters, and rather anxiously the old soldier turned to meet the islanders. The people of Fire Island were as interesting and unusual as their island, being entirely of red and blue flames, and so light upon their feet they fairly flashed about over the glowing rocks. “Shall I fall on their heads?” inquired Bill. “Is it a fight?” “No,” answered Grampa, squinting a bit from the glare, “I believe they’re friendly.” And the old soldier was right, for as the Fire Islanders came nearer they waved their arms gaily and seemed delighted with the unusual appearance of their visitors. A little ahead of the others strode a tall man, who was made entirely of glowing, red hot iron. Except for this fact, he might have been any village blacksmith and his face was so round and jolly that Tatters immediately took heart. “Prince Forge John the First!” called two small flame pages, as the Fire Monarch reached the party on the beach. Prince Forge John bowed, Grampa saluted, Bill crowed and Urtha—breaking off a flowery spray from her skirts—held it out prettily to the ruler of Fire Island. “What a charming little fairy!” cried Prince Forge John in his hot crackling voice. “And you,” he turned pleased eyes upon Grampa and Tatters, “how brave you look, and _it_,” with a wave at the weather cock, “how beautiful it is—all of splendid iron!” “Thanks,” crowed Bill. “I’m useful, too. If you will tell me where to find the head, the Princess and the fortune, I’ll tell you which way the wind blows. Head? Fortune? Princess?” finished Bill, as if he were repeating a lesson. Prince Forge John looked so confused at this speech that Grampa stepped forward and hastily explained all that had happened since King Fumbo had lost his head, ending up with the wizard’s garden, the discovery of Urtha and their fortunate use of Gorba’s medicine. “H-m!” mused Prince Forge John, rubbing his iron chin. “So you’re seeking the head of this lad’s father and the lad himself seeks a fortune and a Princess? Well, I have not seen the King’s head, but the Prince may stay here with us, marry one of our Fire Maidens and make a fortune in the fire works. There’s many a fortune been snatched from the fire. How would you like that, my boy?” “Yes, do stay and marry me,” cried one of the little flame maidens, running impulsively up to the Prince.