The Robbery Is Discovered!
"Prunes and peppermints!" ejaculated the Scarecrow, springing up from
his bench as Jellia Jamb, with streaming eyes and cap ribbons, came
flying across the garden.
"Peanuts and pretzels!" Dorothy, about to hit the pole and win the
game, dropped her mallet at Jellia's fire siren screeches, while Ozma
and the others swung round in amazement as the little waiting maid,
sobbing and panting, rushed into their midst.
"Oh, that beggar! Oh, that pilgrim! That old Monk, or whatever he was!"
wailed Jellia, wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron. "He's gone
and stolen the jug, I mean Rug, and Oz knows what will become of us!"
"There, there, my girl. Stop crying! Begin at the beginning and tell us
just what happened," begged the Scarecrow, patting Jellia clumsily on
the shoulder.
"But this is serious, very serious," muttered the Wizard, who had at
once realized the importance of the little maid's news. "If Ruggedo is
released from that jug and enchantment, he'll be up to his old tricks
in no time and doing anything in his power to hurt and destroy us."
"But who could have known we turned Ruggedo into a jug, or where the
jug was kept? And why would anyone steal an old earthenware pitcher
when there are so many other rare and beautiful objects in the palace?"
Ozma, looking anxious and troubled, seated herself on the bench beside
the Scarecrow.
"The same person who knew the value of Glinda's record book and stole
that," answered the Wizard gloomily. "Dark forces are at work in Oz, my
dear, dark forces. Just how did this rascal look, Jellia?"
"Like an old monk with a beggar's cup," said the little maid with a
sorrowful sniff. "He seemed so poor and hungry I went off to get him
something to eat and no sooner was my back turned than he grabbed the
jug and ran off--though he shuffled slowly enough when he came into the
palace."
"Disguised, of course," observed the Scarecrow, raising one eyebrow,
"and no more a monk than I am. But what was he monkeying round here
for? And what could he want with that jug, even if he knew it was the
old Gnome King? Really, you know, you shouldn't let perfect strangers
into the palace, Jellia."
"Just what I was telling her," wheezed Puffup, breathlessly adding
himself to the group on the lawn, "and I hopes this will be a lesson to
you, Miss."
"If we just knew where the old villain came from," worried the Wizard,
tapping his fingers absently on Tik Tok's copper arm.
"Or where he was going," finished Dorothy, pushing back her crown.
"Why not look in the ma-gic pic-ture?" proposed the Machine Man calmly.
"The pic-ture would show us where he is now."
"Of course it would!" Ozma rewarded Tik Tok with a bright smile, and
jumping up, the little Fairy hurried across the garden and into the
palace with the others just a few steps behind her. But when they
reached the small sitting room where the magic picture was hung, of
course it was not there, and now in real distress and consternation
they all sat down to discuss the mysterious forces working against them.
"I thought Ruggedo was the only enemy I had left," sighed Ozma, leaning
wearily back in her satin tufted arm chair. "I thought when we turned
the Gnome King to a jug, all our troubles would be over."
"Who-ev-er stole the jug knows that Rug-ge-do was once the pow-er-ful
me-tal mon-arch who tried a-gain and a-gain to con-quer Oz," rasped Tik
Tok in his slow and precise fashion.
"Right!" agreed the Wizard, striding up and down with his hands clasped
behind his back. "And whoever stole that jug and the magic picture
plans to disenchant the Gnome King and learn from him the best way to
destroy us. But that will be pretty difficult," asserted the little
Wizard, thrusting out his chin. "That transformation was one of the
best you ever made, my dear Ozma, one of the best. It will take a
pretty smart wizard to turn that jug back to Rug again."
"Whoever stole the jug and Ozma's magic picture WAS pretty smart,"
Betsy Bobbin reminded him seriously. "And without the picture how're we
going to find out who it is? Can't you do something, Wiz dear, or do we
just have to sit around and wait to be conquered?"
"I shall go to my laboratory at once," decided the Wizard importantly,
"and there by some magic means I'll try to discover who is at the
bottom of all this wretched plotting and thievery. Lock up the magic
treasures in your safe, Ozma, especially the Gnome King's magic belt,
and have them guarded day and night." Briskly the little Wizard rushed
out of the room, returning in a moment to repeat gloomily, "DAY and
NIGHT!"
"And I'll go and drill the army," declared the Scarecrow, stepping
recklessly out an open French window and falling flat, but undaunted,
in a flower bed below.
"And I'd better call Tige and the Cowardly Lion," said Dorothy, who had
always found the lion a splendid fighter in spite of his cowardice, and
the Hungry Tiger, ready at the drop of a handkerchief to protect his
royal patrons with tooth and claw. "They can sit right here beside the
safe and I'd just like to see anyone get by them!"
"Maybe it will be someone they cannot see," shivered Betsy, peering out
into the darkening garden.
"Oh, my, isn't it too exciting!" Trot, bouncing up and down on a small
sofa, leaned over to touch Ozma on the knee. "It reminds me of the time
Ugu the Shoemaker stole all the magic treasures in Oz. Remember?"
Ozma, looking at the space where her magic picture had hung, nodded her
head sorrowfully, saddened and sobered by the thought that she still
had dangerous and unscrupulous enemies in Oz.