"It depends on how you strike him," murmured the slave indifferently. "There he is now. You might ask him." The glass doors of the palace were wide open, and Jack looked anxiously into the great red glass throne room. The doorways and arches were hung with strands of strung glass triangles and the musical tinkle of these strange curtains was both pleasant and delicate. All of the furnishings were of sparkling red glass and a double line of tall vases led directly to the throne. A strange drowsy incense rose in pink clouds to the ceiling. At first Jack thought the Jinn was merely another vase, but as with the black boy's aid he hopped nearer, he saw that the vase-like figure on the throne had legs crossed on the spun glass cushions and hands clasped round his fat and shiny middle. No head was visible; nothing but a lid with a round knob on the top. A sleepy black wielded a great fan drowsily over this portly person, and Jack after pausing uncertainly took the leg he still carried under his arm and tapped the Jinn sharply on the lid. Instantly it raised up and from the vase-like interior of this strange sovereign rose an enormous red head with an exceedingly pleasant, round face. He blinked curiously at Jack and then turning to the slave wheezed good naturedly, "Well, well! Ginger, my boy, what have you brought me this time? I am delighted that our bell was stolen. It keeps us in touch with the outside world and has already got us two extra slaves. But this one is the best yet." He looked Jack up and then down. "I haven't been so amused in a thousand years." "Don't you want the bell back?" asked Jack, holding it out uneasily. He had expected the Jinn to be very angry at the holder of his magic treasure. "No! No! Keep it and welcome! Just to look at you is worth a hundred dinner bells," said the Jinn, smothering a chuckle behind his fat hand. "An odd enough appearing gentleman, Ginger, is he not? And so polite! Where we but remove the slipper he has taken off the entire leg to do us honor. Tell me, who and what are you, most curious sir?" "You struck him exactly right," whispered the slave encouragingly. "Speak up and he may help you." "I am Jack Pumpkinhead, your Majesty," said Jack, balancing himself with great difficulty, "and a simple citizen of Oz." "I believe you," puffed the Jinn and forthwith broke into such a series of strange sounds that Jack drew back in dismay. "What language is that?" he asked in a faint voice. "I do not seem to understand your Majesty's remarks." The Red Jinn's lid, which he wore quite jauntily for a hat, was still quivering, but controlling himself with a great effort he wiped his face on a red silk hanky.