Prince Evered nodded emphatically, for he had no intention of becoming an office boy. Just then they came to the public square and were marched solemnly through the gates. "Pick your tools and get started," ordered the first officer gruffly, and grumbling a little among themselves, because the prisoners had got off so easily, the twenty tall Downsmen tramped noisily back to their station. As soon as they had gone, the barber, with his razor, released the Hungry Tiger from the net. "I wonder what they meant about tools," murmured Betsy, staring all around her. "Why what an enormous tree!" It stood in the center of the square, spreading out in every direction, its branches weighted down with a most curious collection of objects. There was a small notice tacked on the trunk and Evered and Betsy Bobbin hurried over to investigate. "Indus Tree," read the sign. "Pick your trade, business or profession here." "Well, I've often heard of the big industries," gasped Carter Green, squinting up through the branches, "but I never knew they looked like this. If we are to stay Down Town, I suppose we had better pick our business at once." "Stay if you want to," rumbled the Hungry Tiger impatiently. "My business is to see that Betsy Bobbin gets safely back to Oz and to restore Reddy to his throne. I, for my part, am going to leave as soon as I can find an exit." "Maybe they won't let us," faltered Betsy, looking uneasily over her shoulder. But the Daddies were not paying the slightest attention to the little group in the square and, greatly relieved, they turned back to the Indus Tree. "Some of these things might prove useful, even if we did not remain here," muttered Carter. "Why, there's a razor!" shouted the Rash barber in delight, and springing into the air, he snapped it off the lower branch and began to finger it lovingly. "I'd take that harp, if I could just reach it," sighed the sad singer, looking wistfully aloft. "I'll pick it for you," offered Prince Evered obligingly, and swinging up into the tree he broke the harp from its stem and dropped it into the singer's arms. "See anything you want, Betsy?" called the little Prince, and pushing aside a cluster of paint brushes, he peered down at her expectantly. But with so many things to choose from, it was hard to decide. There were thimbles and shears, bottles of ink, hammers, saws, buckets and mops, brooms and hoes, music rolls, miners' caps, rolling pins, cook books, compasses and ship models--everything in fact that a body would need to work with.