The Pilgrim Returns to the Mountain
Travelling northward by foot and as quickly as he could, Number Five
had come to the Silver King's Mountain just a few moments after Nox
and Handy Mandy. Now, dressed in the silver armor and helmet worn by
all the Wizard's M-Men, he waited in great agitation for the wizard to
appear. Nifflepok had at once taken Five to the den where Wutz carried
on all his magic experiments and kept his valuable treasures, and quite
sure none of the other agents had been as successful as he, Five paced
impatiently up and down, fancying himself already co-ruler with the
wizard in Oz.
"So, there you are at last!" Entering from an invisible door in the
back of his work shop, Wutz stared coldly at Five. "Well, what trash is
that you have stolen?" was asked, finally. The wizard always pretended
the discoveries of his agents were of little use and importance. And
when Five, completely taken aback and crestfallen, began to explain the
wonderful properties of the magic picture and the fact that the old jug
had once been the powerful King of the Gnomes, the Silver Monarch cut
him short. "Yes, yes, but just see what Seven has brought," he told him
gloatingly. "Seven, by a trick known only to himself, has stolen and
transported to our mountain the great record book of Glinda the Good
Sorceress!" Following the direction of the King's imperious finger,
Five gazed jealously at a huge volume chained with golden chains to its
marble stand. "In that book," went on the wizard quickly, "everything
that ever happened in Oz is recorded, not only everything that has
happened, but everything that is happening. You can see the entries
appearing at this very minute on the open page."
"I see, I see!" Five scarcely glanced at the record book. "But this
magic picture shows you any person you desire to look at. With this
picture and the help of the powerful Gnome King, now disguised as a
jug, we can soon make ourselves rulers of Oz. All we need to do is
release Ruggedo from his enchantment. I have been told by people in the
Emerald City that Ruggedo is familiar with all the magic secrets of
Ozma and the Wizard of Oz, and is, besides, a skilful magician himself.
Once we have disenchanted him, everything will be easy."
"We? We?" sneered Wutz, who secretly agreed with Five, but would not
give him the satisfaction of knowing it. "Well, put the picture there
on that stand so I can examine it. Show us this silly ruler of Oz who
sets herself above all other rulers," he ordered sharply. "Where is
she now and what is she doing?" Then, though the wizard and Five and
Nifflepok, who had come noiselessly into the workshop, gazed into the
canvas till their eyes stung and watered, not a single figure appeared
to enlighten them. "HAH! A hoax!" raged the Silver King, rushing at
Five and shaking him till his armor rattled. "How dare you fool me in
this dangerous manner?"
"But it's not a hoax," screamed Five as soon as he could speak. "It
worked perfectly well in the castle."
"Perhaps it was hurt when you reduced it to carry it here," put in
Nifflepok nervously. He was always trying to keep peace between the
cruel King and his subjects. "Perhaps it only obeys the commands of
Ozma, its rightful owner. And remember, you still have the jug and
the magic record book. The record book might even explain about the
picture," he suggested hopefully. "I thought so, it says here: 'The
magic picture and Rug, the jug, have been stolen from the castle of
Ozma of Oz by an agent of the Silver King.'"
"There!" exclaimed Five, brushing himself off indignantly. "I told you
it was the one and only picture."
"Yes, but what good is it to me if it doesn't work?" scoffed the
wizard. "I'll not have you potted this time, Five, but next time don't
bring me damaged goods and old jugs, bring something of real value." As
Five, red faced and furious, jerked himself out of the King's presence,
Wutz turned joyfully to Nifflepok. "Getting on, old Tubbykins, we're
getting on! Without that magic picture Ozma will not be able to trace
her stolen property, and without the record book, Glinda will not
be able to help her. So who's to stop us from stealing everything?
Everything!" exulted Wutz, picking up the earthen jug and waving it
over his head.
"But do you think it wise to treat our agents so shabbily?" sighed
Nifflepok. "They might betray us, you know."
"Oh, no, they won't," sniffed the wizard, grinning broadly at his
anxious little assistant. "The way I treat them is perfectly all right,
keeps them on their toes, and with each trying to outdo the other we
get the best results."
"Well, I hope you're right," Nifflepok still looked unconvinced. "But I
cannot help thinking--"
"Out of your line, Niffy; just leave the thinking to me. Now fetch me
my magic blower, there's a good fellow, till I see what can be done
with this jug. It may take some time and doing to release this ugly
little gnome. By the way, did you pulverize those meddling Munchkins?"
"Oh, yes!" Nifflepok nodded his head with a little shudder of distaste.
"I shot them down into the prisoner's pit just as your Majesty
commanded."
"That's strange." The wizard in crossing the den to fetch a glass test
tube had paused for a moment beside the book of records. "It says
here, 'The Goat Girl from Mern and the Royal Ox are in the Silver
King's Mountain planning to release the little King of Keretaria.' So
that's what brought them here?" mused the wizard softly. "Now, then,
Nifflepok, something must have slipped up instead of down. If your
prisoners were powdered or pulverized, how could they be planning and
plotting?"
"They must have some powerful magic to help them," muttered Nifflepok,
"or how could they have survived that fall?"
"Better find out, my dear fellow. Go spy on those Munchkins, and
if their magic is important or worth while, come back and tell me.
And in the future be more careful how you carry out my orders and
instructions!" The wizard's voice was still low and pleasant, but his
eyes flashed so threateningly, Nifflepok rushed out of the royal work
den, flung himself in the silver car and went speeding down to the
prison pits at the bottom of the mountain.