"You," puffed Akbad, for he, too, was worn out by the long fly, "you have been chosen to save the Ozure Isles." He shook his long finger in Trot's face. "These others may escape if they wish, but you must stay and serve the monster Quiberon." As Trot, blinking her eyes between shock and consternation, tried to understand what it was all about, there came a great snort and splashing and in toward the cave swam the monster himself. "Here's your mortal maiden!" yelled Akbad, and spreading his wings, rose quickly into the air, leaving Trot and her friends to face the giant fear-fish. Benny had by this time struggled to his feet, but at sight of the monster he nearly lost his balance again. As for Trot and the Scarecrow, after one horrified glance, they seized hands and dashed in the only direction open to them--straight into the blue cave. "Wait!" thundered Quiberon, shooting a long tongue of flame from his fiery nostrils. He was so close that the fire and smoke blackened both Benny's eyes. With a grunt of surprise and displeasure, the stone man snatched up his umbrella and pounded after Trot and the Scarecrow. [Illustration: "WAIT," THUNDERED QUIBERON] "I thought you said that in Oz things would be different," shouted Benny, grinding the jeweled pebbles on the floor of the cave to powder beneath his flying stone boots. "Well, isn't this different?" stuttered the Scarecrow, tripping over a sapphire boulder and sprawling upon his nose. "Oh, hurry!" begged Trot, jerking him quickly to his feet. "Here it comes." At another time the three travelers might have paused to admire the great jeweled grotto, but with this snorting, puffing monster at their heels they scarcely glanced at the sapphire icicles hanging from the roof and jutting out from the sides and the sparkling gems that strewed the floor of the cave. Water rushed through the center and it was no easy task running over the rocks and boulders at the side. The glowing eyes of the monster lighted up the whole cavern. Like a steam engine, he puffed and snorted behind them, filling the air with a sulphurous smoke, till it smelled like twenty Fourths of July rolled into one. At every flash from his nostrils, the poor Scarecrow would wince and shudder. "One spark, and I am an ash heap!" groaned the unhappy straw man, leaping wildly from boulder to rock. "What shall we do now?" wailed Trot, stopping in dismay, for they had come to the very back of the cavern and could run no farther. "I don't know what a real person would do," panted Benny glancing around desperately, "but I'll do something. Quick, squeeze into that little opening." There was just time for Trot and the Scarecrow to slip into the narrow crevice at the back of the cave before Quiberon dragged himself out of the water and flung himself up on the rocks. "Where is the mortal maiden?" roared the great dragon, as Benny placed himself bravely between his friends and the monster.