"If I only had my black bag," fumed the Wizard, trying desperately to free himself. From the screams and crashes indoors, the anxious company in the garden knew that the servants were being overpowered. Presently a long file of them came out between two lines of Mogodore's men, who marched them to a small summer house and carefully locked them in. "I hope they don't find the magic belt," breathed Dorothy, wriggling into a more comfortable position and trying to smile reassuringly at the Scarecrow who was tied to the next tree. But even while Dorothy was hoping, out dashed Mogodore waving the belt. His helmet had been removed and Ozma's small emerald crown perched ridiculously upon the top of his head. "I beg that your Majesty will be careful," cried Wagarag, running anxiously after the excited baron. "Remember that belt is very powerful, very dangerous. Have a care." "I haven't a care in the world," shouted Mogodore, fastening the belt round his arm, for it would not begin to go 'round his waist. "Am I not a King and about to marry a fairy? Go play marbles, Waggy, and let me alone! I am a King and if I choose can destroy this entire country." And then as Wagarag continued to plead and beg him to be cautious he yelled angrily, "Go, attend to the feast, you meddlesome weasel and leave this magic to me. I shall test the powers of this belt at once. Do you know that I can transform anyone here to anything I wish? Begone, before I turn you to a bone and throw you to the dogs." Now indeed did the helpless Oz folk tremble, and as Wagarag, shaking his head sadly, backed away from his foolish master, Mogodore began to look around the garden for someone to transform. Perhaps, because the Patchwork Girl was the oddest and most amazing person he had ever seen, his eye rested longest upon her. "I command this ridiculous maiden to become a bird," called Mogodore in a loud voice. And instantly, Scraps was a bird, an exceedingly scrappy bird, too. Wildly flapping her patchwork wings she quickly disengaged herself from the gold chains that bound her to the tree. Then swooping down upon Mogodore, she snatched Ozma's crown from his head and hurled herself into the air. "Quick! Quick! Change her back! I knew you'd do something silly," groaned Wagarag, as Mogodore stared dumbly upward. "Now she'll fly off and spread the alarm!" "You bet I will," screeched the Patchwork Bird, and with an ear-splitting screech she soared over the castle and disappeared. "I told you something would happen," whispered Ozma, smiling quietly at Dorothy. Now if Mogodore had been more practiced in magic, he would instantly have changed Scraps into a stone and she would have dropped heavily and helplessly to earth. But utterly confused and mortified by the unfortunate outcome of his first transformation, the baron pushed his steward furiously aside, rushed into the castle and slammed both gold doors. CHAPTER 18