Dorothy looked reprovingly at the Elegant Elephant and just then, catching a glimpse of the Soldier with the Green Whiskers in the doorway, rushed over and pulled him into the room. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers is the entire army of Oz and, while not noted for his bravery, is a great favorite in the Emerald City. Ever since the disappearance of Ozma, he had been hiding in the castle cellar, terribly frightened by its fall and rise. Finally he had screwed up enough courage to venture forth and investigate. Too astonished to move, he had listened to the proceedings in the throne room and watched the Wizard's magic experiments. "Try him!" puffed Dorothy, hurrying him toward the throne. As the tailor carefully adjusted the robe, everyone gasped at the fit and becomingness of the green garment. It quite transformed the timid old soldier and, complacently stroking his beard, he waited for the Wizard's formula to take effect. But again, nothing at all happened and, dashing the green book of magic into a corner, the Wizard rushed out of the room. At last he had had an idea of his own. He would look in the magic picture and discover at once who was the missing King. Meanwhile Tora, looking very apologetic, had taken the cloak from the grand army's shoulders. "I was wrong," sighed the tailor shaking his head sorrowfully, "and now there is no one else to try." Everyone joined in the tailor's sigh, for the afternoon had lengthened into evening and they were still as far as ever from solving the mystery. At each disappointment Pajuka had grown more gloomy and now, waddling up to Mombi, he cried angrily, "Woman, what have you done with the king? Speak! Speak, or I'll peck off your nose!" "Yes, say something!" shrilled Kabumpo, shaking her violently. "I remember nothing! I remember nothing! Let me go!" wailed the old witch, howling dismally. Mombi's screams, Pajuka's threats and Kabumpo's trumpeting almost drowned out another voice that had risen triumphantly above the confusion. It was Snip. Jumping to his feet and running across the room, the little button boy flung his arms 'round the old tailor. "You never tried it on yourself! You never tried it on yourself!" panted Snip, trembling with impatience. "Here, give it to me!" While Kabumpo sniffed and the others watched half heartedly, the little boy wrapped the King's robe around the tired tailor, popped two sugar lumps into his mouth and shouted hoarsely, "Two ought to be eaten before seven! I command you to resume your natural shape!" For as long as you could count ten there was absolute silence. Then a deep voice, very rough and husky, called wildly, "The King! Long live the King!"