"Did you say your name was Cy?" asked the head, staring up inquiringly. "Well carry me indoors, Cy. You'll find my body around somewheres." "This must be Oz," choked Peter, with an excited little gasp and, kicking open the door, he hurried into the cottage. A tall awkward body sprawled on the floor and there was certainly something familiar about the hollow eyes staring so pleasantly into his own. "My body has fallen down the stairs," observed the pumpkin head calmly. "It should have waited for me, for nobody should be without a head." Peter agreed heartily with this last statement and, setting the head on the table, he pulled the awkward figure to its feet and then, standing on a chair, pressed the head carefully on the wooden peg that served for a neck. "Why it's Jack Pumpkinhead!" he cried delightedly. "Didn't I meet you in Ozma's palace two years ago? Don't you remember me?" Jack looked doubtfully down at the little boy. "I'm afraid that I don't," he answered seriously. "You see, I have had several new heads since then, and am not very good at remembering." "Never mind. I remember you!" Peter smiled kindly at the awkward fellow and, squeezing his wooden fingers, went on. "My name is Peter and--" "I thought you said your name was Cy," objected Jack in a puzzled voice. "Oh no I didn't," explained Peter, a little vexed at the pumpkin head's stupidity. "I said it's I at the door." "Cy at the door and Peter in the house. How dreadfully confusing," mumbled Jack, putting one hand to his head to see if it was on straight. "Have you a different name for every place you go?" "Oh call me Peter!" exclaimed the little boy impatiently, "and if you'll just tell me the way to the Emerald City I'll not bother you any more. I'm anxious to see Ozma and Dorothy again." "Are you a friend of Ozma's?" interrupted Jack in high excitement. "Well, I'll do anything for a friend of Ozma's. Ozma is my father!" Running to the door Jack clattered down the steps, beckoning for Peter to follow him. "Father!" cried Peter, with a little burst of laughter, and then realizing one could not expect too much sense from a pumpkin head, he hurried out of the cottage. The pirate's sack still hung over his arm and, tossing it gaily over one shoulder, Peter stepped quickly after Jack, and clapped him on his shoulder. "By the way, how did you reach Oz?" Picking his way carefully between the rows of pumpkins, Jack paused and turned his head with both hands so he could look back at Peter. Briefly Peter told him of finding the last coin in the pirate's sack, how he had wished to be in Oz and suddenly found himself standing before the yellow cottage. "It must have been a magic coin," muttered Jack Pumpkinhead, starting on again. "I tell you," he gave an excited skip, "that gold coin was a piece of change. You wished to come to Oz for a change and here you are!" "Yes," agreed Peter slowly. "But where is the gold piece?"