“It must have been Ruggedo who pinched you and pulled the Cowardly Lion’s tail,” whispered Dorothy, who was standing between Sir Hokus and the Scarecrow. When the good Knight heard how Kuma had dispatched his hand to aid Peter and Scraps in their escape from Patch, he waved apologetically at the arm resting on the chandelier. It at once descended and began shaking hands all around and Peter, staring at that gay and brilliant assemblage, thought he had never seen so interesting and strange a sight. The Hungry Tiger, now that the story was told, was all for going on with the party, but the Wizard, realizing the extreme danger they were in, said no. “Put all the magic treasures together and place the oztrich egg on top of them,” commanded the wizard, “for Ruggedo dare not touch them so long as the egg is near.” So Ozma unclasped her belt and, placing the oztrich egg in the center, put her magic box and wishing pills beside it. “I cannot believe Ruggedo would be so wicked,” sighed Ozma, turning sadly to the Scarecrow. “Now that he sees it is impossible to steal the belt perhaps he will go away.” “Not he!” answered the Scarecrow positively. “He’s around here somewhere, depend on that, and until we find him, watch out!” “Why not eat, while we watch?” purred the Hungry Tiger. “These travellers look tired and hungry and deserve refreshment after their long journey.” Grumpy rolled his eyes approvingly at the Hungry Tiger and Ozma, in spite of herself, had to smile. As she nodded her royal head, the Scarecrow burst into his speech of welcome all over again, the footmen began pulling out the chairs and everyone settled down as if nothing at all had happened. Grumpy had a place between the Hungry Tiger and Cowardly Lion, and they, well pleased with the behavior of the little bear, did their best to make him feel at home. The oztrich stood up behind Grumpy, swallowing rapidly everything that came within reach. Scraps had the seat of honor beside Ozma, and Peter, between Dorothy and Sir Hokus, was plied with every delicacy. The hand of Kuma, trained to serve, flew backward and forward, filling tumblers, carrying trays and generally making itself useful. “Dost like our Emerald City, lad?” queried Sir Hokus, bending kindly toward the little boy. “Well,” acknowledged Peter quite truthfully, “I haven’t seen much of it, the oztrich ran so fast, you know.” “A rare and exceptional bird!” murmured Sir Hokus mildly, “but not my idea of a giddy steed.” “Nor mine!” whispered Peter, winking sociably at the Knight. “He goes twenty feet at one jump and travels like a hurricane.” Between bites, Peter told the Knight how they had run over the bookman and a little more about the pirate ship and the Sultan of Suds, while Scraps, at the head of the table, gave a spirited account of her experiences as Queen of the Quilties. [Illustration]