"Call this a battle," wheezed Bragga to Mogodore, "are there to be no hangings, no bon fires, no killings of any kind? You promised us a real war. This is as tame as a taffy pull." Tugging discontentedly at his long mustache, the Captain of the Guard looked sulkily at his chief. "After the wedding you may kill whom you please," promised Mogodore indifferently, "but now I'm going to have another try at that magic belt." "Take care! Take care!" bleated Wagarag, from the other end of the banquet hall. "I'll wager you're thinking of that forbidden flagon again." "Right," boomed the baron, sweeping a dozen plates to the floor with his arm. "And right now, I'm going to transport that flagon to this castle and find out what is in it and why it is forbidden. What will happen if the seal is broken? It cannot harm me now. I am no longer Baron of Baffleburg, but King of OZ--King by right of seizure and conquest." "You'll not be the lawful King till you marry this Princess," quavered Wagarag, raising a trembling finger and pointing to Ozma. "The old bone is right," grumbled Bragga. "Why not marry her now and be done with it?" "Marry her now," echoed all the spearmen, "and let us get on with the killing." Pushing back her chair, Ozma jumped up and glanced desperately around the table. Would no one save her from this robber baron and his band? Mogodore, too, rose to his feet. "I'm King now, I tell you," he insisted stubbornly, "and I'll marry when I'm ready, but now I am going to end the miserable mystery of the forbidden flagon. I command the forbidden flagon and its guard to appear before me," bellowed Mogodore, staring around defiantly. Scarcely had the sound of his voice died away before there came a crash and splinter of glass and in through a window back of the baron burst a strange flying figure. It was Jack Pumpkinhead, clasping the precious flagon in one hand and holding to his head with the other; brought all the way from the Red Jinn's palace by the mysterious power of the magic belt. With a hysterical little cry, Ozma rushed forward. "Jack! Jack!" panted Ozma, "have you come to save us?" Solemnly Jack nodded and before a man at the table could move, he whisked off his head, set it on a chair and then and not till then did he hurl the forbidden flagon straight at the Baron of Baffleburg. How he ever managed to aim so true without his head to help him I have no idea, but with a resounding crack the flagon splintered to bits on Mogodore's nose and a thin red liquid began to pour down his cheeks and drop off his chin. No longer need Mogodore wonder what would happen, when the seal on the forbidden flask was broken! For what would happen, had happened! Stars! Yes! CHAPTER 19 The Forbidden Flagon Acts