Before Snif could touch his ear with his claw or wonder what Peter was yelling about, he expanded like a balloon, filling the entire dungeon and squeezing Peter flat against the wall. The effect of the shrinking violets had worn off at last, and with the Iffin rapidly reaching his former size and strength, there was not room in the box-like cell. To keep from crushing Peter, he pressed against the bars of the dungeon. The force with which he shot up to his full and former size, tore the door from its hinges and bent out the bars like wax. While Snif stood terrified and trembling with surprise, Peter, with great presence of mind, pressed past him, slipped through the bent bars and unlocked the dungeon door. "We're free," gasped the little boy, as Snif tumbled head first from their cell. "We're free and you're big and strong again. We can fly to the Emerald City right away and save Ozma and everybody." "If--I--ever--get--my--breath, you mean," wheezed Snif, leaning against the wall and puffing like a porpoise. "Wh--ew! Growing up is almost as bad as shrinking down." "Did it hurt," asked Peter, eyeing his friend with lively curiosity. "Well, not exactly," explained the Iffin, raising first one foot and then the other, "but I've had lots more pleasant experiences. Did I hurt you?" "Not much," said Peter, feeling a bruise on his elbow where he had been pressed against the wall. "Say, it's great to have you a monster again. Don't ever eat another violet as long as you live." "I never will," shuddered the Iffin, shaking his head solemnly. "Out of my way, lump!" Pushing over a startled jailer who had run out to see what was the matter, Snif rushed along the corridor. "First we'll find Belfaygor, then we'll hunt Jack's head and the pirate's sack and next we'll fly to the capitol and put an end to Mogodore's mischief. I can out-fly a thousand horses without even trying," boasted Snif, pushing over another guard who darted out to intercept them. "If I'd only opened that pirate's sack right away," puffed Peter running to catch up with Snif, "if I only had, all this would never have happened. Goodness, what's this?" "Good news to me," chuckled Snif galloping along gaily. "It is Belfaygor's beard and will lead us straight to his dungeon." Snif was right. Trailing the flowing red whiskers of the baron, they came to the topmost cell in the tower. Out from the dungeon bars poured the enchanted beard of Belfaygor. Belfaygor, himself was leaning against the door, too discouraged and unhappy to even clip them once. But when Peter called him by name, and he saw Snif grown to full size and power again, he snapped his shears joyfully and in a trembling voice demanded to know how they had come there.