"I wanna go home," shuddered the Patch Work Girl, looking fearfully at the dismal forest surrounding the castle and a flock of black birds circling ominously overhead. "I wanna go home!" "You should think before you wish, old fellow," gulped the Scarecrow weakly. "Betsy, my dear, will you give me a shake. All of my straw has fallen into my left boot. And where's Tik Tok, pray?" "I thought he'd better stay home," replied the Wizard, looking around uneasily. Now that they were really in Morrow, he began to doubt the wisdom of his quick wish. Why had he not thought to bring his magic bag or another wishing pill in case of danger? "A rare and imposing old edifice!" observed Sir Hokus, dismounting stiffly from the stone lion, and looking up curiously at the castle. "Well, now that we are here, we might as well look around," puffed the Scarecrow, more cheerful since Betsy had shaken him up and smoothed out his stuffing. "Come along!" Ozma was already standing before the dull golden doors, the only portion of the castle not overgrown with vines. Stepping up behind her, Sir Hokus lifted the huge knocker and let it fall with a great clank against the tarnished metal. "What ho, within!" roared the good Knight lustily. But only a hollow echo and the derisive hoot of an owl came shivering out to them. "What makes you think it is a Ho?" chattered Scraps nervously. "I wish you'd never wished us here. This castle's full of spooks, I fear!" finished the Patch Work Girl, shaking her finger reproachfully at the Wizard. "Fear nothing," boomed Sir Hokus grandly, "I will protect you." Putting his mailed shoulder to the doors, he pressed with all his might. The bolts had evidently not been drawn and when the three little girls and the Wizard added their strength to his, the doors flew open so suddenly they all tumbled through together. Three jack rabbits and a tiny fawn leaped through a broken window pane as the doors crashed open and several bats, shaken from their hold on the beamed ceiling by the jar, began to circle round and round, screeching dismally. The hall had once been furnished with great splendor and magnificence, but now everything was covered with cobwebs, dust and decay. The dim green light filtering in through the vine covered windows made everything seem more ghastly still. "I wanna go home!" whispered Scraps plaintively. "Oh!" wailed Betsy Bobbin, hiding her face in the Scarecrow's coat, "I don't like this." "Shoo!" coughed the Scarecrow, stamping his foot at a flock of mice that came scurrying across the floor and whirling his hat about his head to keep off the bats. "Shoo, I tell you!" "What do you s'pose anyone wanted us to come here for?" groaned Trot, clinging nervously to Scraps.