A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
GREAT was the hue and cry raised over the disappearance of the Weather
Prophet, and dire the dismay of the general public, that had daily
flocked to the pretty little glass house to learn the very latest
advice from the weather bureau. They greatly feared there could now
be no further predictions concerning sun and storm, for there never
had been but one Weather Prophet within the memory of anyone, even the
oldest of all. Even the Wizard knew nothing concerning the material
of which his wife’s magic skirts were made. A weather prophet she had
been, although badly in need of repair, upon her arrival in Toyland,
and her like had never been seen, would never be seen again.
Queerer even than her disappearance seemed to Sally the vanishing of
her glass house. Perhaps, like the Walking House, it had found feet
and eloped, carrying off its owner, whether willing or not. Even the
loquacious glass sign was gone, which proved conclusively to the
logical mind of the Wizard, or at least he so expressed himself, that
the house had run away with the lady, and that at that very moment she
was no doubt placidly following her profession of prophesying in some
far distant region.
Bedelia, as usual, had her own opinion concerning the matter, and went
about looking mysterious. Sally, who greatly feared that the little
bear was planning mischief, was much relieved when she finally spoke
her mind.
“I believe that bald-headed old terror knows where his wife is,” she
declared one morning while the two were wandering through the palace
greenhouses. “She had two pet Flussies and they are gone, too. Now,
even if she was carried off by her glass house against her will, she
could have sent them back with a message. Anyway, it isn’t likely that
she went of her own accord, for she is so well known all over Toyland
that wherever she went, the Wizard would be sure to find it out and
bring her back. Besides that, she had no reason for running off.
Everybody liked her and made a fuss over her.”
“Well, then, whatever do you suppose has become of her?” inquired Sally
breathlessly. The child had had her own misgivings, remembering the
pretty doll’s dislike for her husband’s pets. “You don’t suppose the
gargoyles could have _eaten_ her?” she added hurriedly.
“No, and I don’t believe the Polly flew away with her,” retorted
Bedelia scornfully. “I believe she is hidden somewhere within a very
short distance from here. The Wizard has some motive for getting her
out of the way. You know he said she had refused to go sleighing with
the rest of us. He probably said that just for effect.”
“But what could he have done with the house?” demanded Sally.
“Oh, that could easily have been taken to pieces and moved away. He had
those imps of gargoyles to help him,” replied the little bear. Then
after a moment’s thought, she added reflectively, “As you know, the
King and Queen have gone away on business for a couple of days. Suppose
we try to unravel this mystery all by ourselves. I am sure the Sign
Post will help us. He can run very fast, besides being so tall he can
get at almost anything. Of course we won’t mention what we are doing to
anyone. It may be that I am on quite the wrong scent. But there’s no
harm in trying.”
And Sally having given her delighted consent, Bedelia trotted off to
find the Sign Post, singing at the top of her voice
“The owl, and the eel, and the warming pan
They went to call on the soap-fat man;
The soap-fat man he was not within
For he’d gone for a ride on his rolling-pin;
So they all came back by way of the town,
And turned the meeting-house upside down.”
This ancient classic somehow, it seemed to Sally, applied to the
situation in hand, only it was Sally and the Sign Post and Bedelia
instead of the owl and the eel and the warming-pan.
A bright idea suddenly struck the little girl, and she could scarcely
wait until Bedelia returned with the Sign Post to announce it to them.
“Bedelia, dear,” she exclaimed, “if we are going to be real detectives,
we shouldn’t use our own names, because real detectives never do. Let
us call ourselves the Owl and the Eel and the Warming-Pan. It will be
so lovely and mysterious!”
Bedelia clapped her paws with delight at this proposition, while the
Sign Post beamed approval from his lofty height.
“With capitals, of course,” continued Sally. “And now which of us shall
be which?”
After some discussion, it was decided that Sally should be the Owl
(with a capital), Bedelia the Eel, while the long and lean Sign Post
should be the Warming-Pan.
This mighty problem having been settled, they proceeded to hold a
council of war and finally decided to set forth at once upon their
mission. They concluded to go on foot and, if it were not possible to
return each night to the palace, to remain wherever they could find
lodging. The Sign Post, while he had no opinion of his own at all
concerning the disappearance of the Weather Prophet, was glad to fall
in with the plans of anyone who had, and Sally perceived with delight
that he was going to be a most valuable addition to their detective
force.
By noon their simple preparations were completed and they set forth
merrily enough, having concluded to go over the nearby ground first,
then if they discovered nothing to proceed to regions more remote.
Bedelia’s idea that the subject of their search was hidden close by
seemed sensible enough. She might be in the Wizard’s tower for that
matter. The disappearance of the house was what bothered all of them.
What use could anyone have for a vanishing glass house? It was really
most mysterious.
They walked on, discussing the subject that was so troubling them
when suddenly the sound of heavy paws padding along behind them made
them turn quickly. And they beheld hurrying along after them a big,
white figure that Sally recognized at once as the large Polar Bear
rug that lay at the side of the Queen’s bed. He had come to life most
beautifully and only flopped in a very small degree, considering his
boneless condition. He came up panting a little and wagging his huge
head amiably as is the fashion with Polar Bears.
“I was _so_ afraid you would get away!” he said in a panting voice, as
he linked arms with Sally and quickly fell into step with her. Then
he added, “Aren’t you surprised to see me? I never did such a thing
before. Ever since I can remember, I have lain beside the Queen’s bed.
But this morning I felt that I had reached the limit. Do let me go
along with you! I am thirsting for adventure.”
“Do you think you could walk so far?” said Sally, eyeing his somewhat
wabbly legs rather doubtfully. “Besides, what will the Queen say when
she returns?”
“I shall not be there to hear,” replied the Polar Bear solemnly. “And
as for walking, I can go along with the best of you. Besides, you will
find me very useful, for when you are tired, I will spread myself out
and you can rest comfortably on my long, soft hair.” He smiled so
amiably as he said this that the others at once consented to take him
along, and also informed him of the object of their journey.
This confidence ended, they proceeded more briskly than before, and
soon the palace was left behind and they found themselves in the open
country. At the edge of the town Sally saw a most peculiar looking tree
whose queer leaves, some square, some oblong, no two of them alike,
were white instead of green, and rustled with a sound like sweetest
music as the wind whispered softly through them.
“Oh, what a queer tree!” she exclaimed, hurrying toward it.
“That, my dear, is a letter tree,” said the Sign Post.
“A letter tree?” replied the child blankly. “Then you have no
post-office in Toyland?”
“I do not know what a post-office may be,” replied the other. “But here
all our letters grow on trees. The loving thoughts of our friends to
us, why should they not bloom and bear fruit, the fruit of the heart
and brain?”
Much impressed by the eloquence of her companion, Sally was silent,
but Bedelia remarked that she had heard of a brain-storm, but that
brain-fruit was one too many for her.
The Sign Post, without condescending to notice the little bear’s
impertinence, lifted Sally in his long arms so that she might more
closely examine the wonderful tree, which she did with the greatest
curiosity. But although she sought all over it, there was no fruit
bearing her name. She had not expected anything, yet she somehow felt
disappointed. However, Bedelia was in the highest spirits, having been
lifted up by the Polar Bear, with whom she had struck up the greatest
friendship, and she could scarcely be restrained from appropriating a
number of letters, albeit they were all addressed to other people.
Just as the Polar Bear was resolutely setting her down on her feet, she
made a sudden grab and descended to the ground with a letter tightly
clasped in her mischievous paw.
“Oh, Bedelia, how could you!” cried Sally in distress.
“Well, it’s for you, stupid!” retorted Bedelia saucily, as she thrust
the envelope under Sally’s nose. Sure enough it was, and Sally had
somehow overlooked it. It was addressed in a manner not to be mistaken:
To Sally,
Care of Her Royal Highness,
The Palace,
Toyland.
“How curious!” cried Sally as she eagerly tore it open.
It read thus:
Dear Sally:—
Here I am shut up in the tower by that horrid old
Polly-nosed Saphead. He sent for me yesterday on the
pretense that he wanted me to go sleigh-riding, and
when he got me up here in the very top of the tower, he
locked me in and went away. He has left the gargoyles
outside the door and I can hear them scratching and
fussing around. I don’t know what he is doing this for,
but anyway he has gone off on business with the King
and Queen and I want you to bring help at once and let
me out. I know how to get even with him. Do hurry, dear
Sally.
Yours in prison,
The Weather Prophet.
“Didn’t I tell you so?” exclaimed Bedelia after a moment of stupefied
silence. And then she added briskly, “There’s no use standing here
staring like a lot of gawks. The thing to do is to hurry back home and
get the Weather Prophet out of prison.”
To this all eagerly assented, and Sally fancied that she heard the
Sign Post murmur faintly, “Five miles to the palace.” Whether or not
this was true, they had come a goodly distance and were all more
or less tired, so that rest and refreshment were really necessary
before starting back on their homeward journey. Therefore they seated
themselves under the beautiful letter tree and ate the dainty food that
had been put up for them by the obliging cook before they left the
palace. There were chicken sandwiches, deviled eggs, thin slices of
cold ham and tongue, and a beautiful salad of lettuce and celery in a
bowl. And for dessert was a fine strawberry tart covered with whipped
cream and a number of most tempting little cakes. There was also a jug
of lemonade.
The Sign Post, who had obligingly carried all these dainties dangling
from one of his long arms, helped to spread the feast and then sat down
contentedly to his own meal of shavings, which, as he now explained,
constituted his regular fare. The only variety consisted in the fact
that they were obtained from different woods, each of which possessed
its own peculiar flavor.
The meal at last being ended, Sally and Bedelia cleared the remains of
it away, and as all felt thoroughly rested, they concluded to start
back at once to the palace. As all roads in Toyland lead to the palace,
they simply proceeded on their way instead of retracing their steps.
Sally and the Sign Post led the way, while Bedelia trotted contentedly
along with the Polar Bear.
Presently through a break in the trees they caught a gleam of something
that glistened like ice in the cold sunshine.
“The lake!” cried Sally. “If we only had our skates and plenty of time,
what fun we might have.”
To which the Polar Bear responded rather severely, “Whoever heard of a
rescue party stopping to go skating?”
And as this was very true, Sally remained silent, although feeling
rather hurt that the Polar Bear should have taken her up so suddenly.
[Illustration]
They were now directly on the edge of the lake, and as she gazed
down upon its glistening glass surface that gleamed with a hundred
rainbow tints, Sally suddenly uttered a loud exclamation, “The Weather
Prophet’s glass house!” she cried excitedly. “The Wizard used it to
make this lake. He carried her off and shut her up because he knew she
would object to having it pulled to pieces and made into a lake!”
And indeed the truth of her assertion proved itself at once to the
minds of all present, for the lake had been laid in sections and one
could discern plainly enough where the top and sides of the house were
joined so as to make one flat surface. Even the pretty striped awnings
of red and white had been utilized in the construction of a tent, under
which the skaters had rested when weary with their exertions.
Indignation at the meanness of the crafty old Wizard and sympathy for
his pretty little wife was expressed by all, and they at once hastened
forward, more resolved than ever to rescue her from the clutches of the
Wizard, or to perish in the attempt.
They made very good time, the Sign Post carrying Sally and Bedelia turn
and turn about when either felt tired. But it was near the hour for
twilight before the towers and gables of the royal palace came into
view. Sally suddenly remembered that in the absence of the Wizard there
would probably be no twilight, a fact that she had not before thought
of. They would have to do their work in broad daylight. However, they
hurried along and were soon in the grounds of the Wizards palace.
High up in the tip-top window of the lofty tower they saw fluttering
a tiny white object that was evidently the handkerchief of the poor
little prisoner, for having seen them she was waving it frantically.
All was silent and deserted. The Wizard had locked up everything
securely and had given a holiday to his servants, fearing that they
might notice the effort of his prisoner to make herself heard, which
effort she was pretty certain to make. Consequently the little party
had nothing to fear in the way of encountering guards. How to effect an
entrance was, however, quite another matter, for everything was bolted,
barred and padlocked. The problem was finally solved by the Sign Post,
who stood on his very tiptoes and triumphantly boosted Bedelia in at
the third story window, which had been left open as being too high up
to offer a means of egress for the prisoner.