“Eeney meeney miney mo, first you eat and then you go,” answered Scraps. Peter and Grumpy quite agreed with her and, shuffling their feet in time to the music, they waited impatiently for the Inn Keeper to re-appear. When he did come out he had four leather music rolls on a tray and handed them around as if they were the most delicious morsels imaginable. “Fie! Fie! Have you no pie!” sang Scraps, while Peter and Grumpy shook their heads in disappointment. Ozwold pecked savagely at one of the rolls, but even he could not eat leather. “Pie? I have a grand piana, How would that suit, Miss Diana?” The Inn Keeper looked inquiringly at the Patchwork Girl and, when she shook her head, danced crossly into the Inn and slammed the door. “No wonder they call this a Viol Inn, No dinner at all, just a dreadful din!” mumbled Scraps, who hated to have Peter disappointed. Peter, with a sigh, jumped over the flighty dance steps, picked up the oztrich egg and, with Grumpy shuffling disconsolately after, started back toward the main street. “Very awk--when one can’t talk,” wheezed the oztrich, rolling its eyes sadly at Peter. “Never mind, a way I’ll find, Tunester, will you be so kind--” Touching a Tunester on the sleeve, Scraps trilled earnestly: “Mister, will you show us how To leave this town? We’re going now.” “To get out of Tune, get out of Tune! You’ll find yourselves out, pretty soon,” chuckled the singer, waltzing away unconcernedly. “What do you suppose he means by that?” exclaimed Peter, forgetting that he was breaking the law again. No sooner had he spoken than the music and dancing stopped and this time the whole band rushed toward him with instruments threateningly upraised. “Scream!” puffed the Patchwork Girl, struck by a sudden idea. “Altogether now, Ah!” Not knowing what else to do, Peter, Grumpy and the Oztrich screamed “Ah” as loudly as they could, Scraps joining in with a will. As each one screamed in a different key, the result was a perfectly dreadful discord. Covering their ears and dropping their horns and drums, the members of the band, Jazzma and her Tunesters fled in every direction. Before the last echoes of that “Ah!” had died away, the four offenders found themselves out of Tune indeed, though how they had gotten over the wall not one of them could have told you. “Did we blow over?” asked Peter, looking down anxiously at the oztrich egg to see if it was broken. “No,” giggled Scraps, throwing a kiss in the direction of the wall, “we sang out of tune, Peter, and here we are out of Tune. Which road shall we take, boys?” There were three roads leading away from Tune Town and after quite a debate they chose the center one. “I hope we find something to eat soon,” sighed Peter, as Ozwold started briskly down the road. “I’m hungry as a bear!” “Not as this bear,” growled Grumpy, patting his middle sorrowfully. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration]