"Something terrible has happened; we've got to move out of here," chattered the owner of the show, rushing from group to group. By the time the indignant old gentleman who had brought the orphans to the circus had been to the gate and back, the first of the heavy circus wagons was already rattling over the hill. The few workmen, hastening the last bits of loading, shook their heads dully when he demanded the orphan and, after threatening and stamping in vain, the distracted old gentleman ran off to fetch the police, with the thirty-nine other orphans splashing delightedly behind him. Police! What could police do against magic? How did the clown know that the rhyme that had popped into his head was an old Oz formula? It had carried off the orphan like a skyrocket, and when the clown had frantically repeated the magic words, he too had been snatched into the air, hurled through the tent top, and flung down beside the frightened little boy in the strangest land he had ever seen. Fortunately they had fallen on a soft dune of sand, and around them for miles and miles stretched a flat and silvery desert. Chapter 3 At the Court of Mudge Neither the clown nor the boy spoke for several minutes. To tell the truth, they were breathless. Then the clown sat up and looked doubtfully at the orphan. "Well, here we are," he said, winking more from force of habit than because he felt particularly jolly. "Yes, sir!" gulped the orphan, swallowing hard. "Now don't call me sir," begged the clown, making conversation to gain time. "Don't call me sir because I worked in a circus. My name is Notta--Notta Bit More. I was the last of twelve children, and my mother and father could not agree on a name for me. Every time my mother said, 'Call him Augustus Elmer More,' my father said, 'not a bit of it.' After while, being a clown himself and a joker by trade, he began calling me 'Notta Bit More' and Notta I've been ever since." The clown winked again. "Call me Notta, won't you?" "Yes, sir," replied the orphan, swallowing again and trying not to cry. Seeing this, Notta turned a double somersault and stood on his head. "And what is _your_ name?" he asked, waving his legs cheerfully. "Bobbie Downs," sniffed the orphan, with another swallow. "How did you get it?" The clown dropped down beside the little boy. "I think it came with me, sir," said Bobbie faintly. "Well, if you don't mind, we'll change it to Bob Up--for that's what we've done--and Bob Up sounds more lively than Bobbie Downs, don't you think?" While Notta was talking he was glancing anxiously around him. "Bob," he said finally, "I think we've fallen in with another circus. See, there are the tents, and I hear lions roaring." "So do I," said Bobbie beginning to look more interested than frightened.