"Then I shall send them back to Baffleburg," declared Ozma, "for they are now too small to harm anyone and there they will be safe and comfortable." As everyone heartily approved of this plan, Ozma touched her magic belt, spoke the few words necessary, and away whisked the bad little baron and his band, to their tiny red city on the rocks. "Just the same, I wish we could have kept him," sighed Scraps to Dorothy. "He looks so funny when he's mad." "Hush!" whispered Dorothy, for Peter had risen and in an embarrassed voice was asking Ozma to send him back to Philadelphia. "Still like baseball better than Oz?" rumbled Sir Hokus, shaking a teasing finger at Peter. "Well," admitted the little boy, blushing a bit at the question, "the fellows sorta depend on me, Hokus, and then you know there's my grandfather." "Of course," smiled Ozma, "of course there is. Goodbye, dear Peter, come back soon and as often as you will." "Goodbye," sobbed the Iffin, overcome at the thought of losing his chum. "If you were my own grandchild, I couldn't love you any better." "Goodbye!" called Jack Pumpkinhead and Scraps and all the others and before their gay voices had quite died away, Peter was standing in the dim library of his own house. "Oh grandfather," cried Peter, "I've been to Oz again and flying is grand, grandfather!" "Then we must try it some time," observed the old gentleman calmly, and saying nothing at all about Peter's strange absence. "Oh, may we?" Peter dropped on the arm of the big chair. "May we, really?" "Well, why not?" demanded grandfather, glancing around the room belligerently and letting his specs fall the full length of the black cord. "Why not? 'Tis a free country and flying's no crime." "Hurrah!" shouted Peter, bouncing off the chair arm and right that instant he decided that even in Oz there was no better chum nor braver adventurer than this grandfather of his so straightway he told him all that had happened in Baffleburg and other places--indeed all of this story that I have just told to you.