177 of girls cl.u.s.tering about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered
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away between the feet of the Army of Revolt. Another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. And suddenly such a
178 scream of terror went up from the Army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with consternation. The flight that ensued turned to a stampede, and the stampede to a panic.
For while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the Scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace--pushing and crowding one another in their mad efforts to escape.
The Queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. Then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor Jinjur shot clear over the head of the Scarecrow and escaped through an archway--never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates.
So, in less time than I can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the Scarecrow and his friends, and the Woggle-Bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed:
"Thank goodness, we are saved!"
"For a time, yes;" answered the Tin Woodman. "But the enemy will soon return, I fear."
"Let us bar all the entrances to the palace!" said the Scarecrow. "Then we shall have time to think what is best to be done."
179
So all except Jack Pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the Saw-Horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. Then, knowing that the Army of Revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war.
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180 Full page line-art drawing.
181 The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think
"It seems to me," began the Scarecrow, when all were again a.s.sembled in the throne room, "that the girl Jinjur is quite right in claiming to be Queen.
And if she is right, then I am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace."
"But you were the King until she came," said the Woggle-Bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you."
"Especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight," added the Pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the Scarecrow.
"Have we really conquered her?" asked the Scarecrow, quietly. "Look out of the window, and tell me what you see."
182
Tip ran to the window and looked out.
"The palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers," he announced.
"I thought so," returned the Scarecrow. "We are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace."
"My friend is right," said Nick Chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "Jinjur is still the Queen, and we are her prisoners."
"But I hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "She threatened to make tarts of me, you know."
"Don"t worry," said the Tin Woodman. "It cannot matter greatly. If you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. A good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect."
"Very true," agreed the Scarecrow.
"Oh, dear!" moaned Jack; "what an unhappy lot is mine! Why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin--or even out of straw--so that I would keep indefinitely."
"Shucks!" returned Tip, indignantly. "You ought to be glad that I made you at all." Then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time."
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"But I beg to remind you," broke in the Woggle-Bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, "that this terrible Queen Jinjur suggested making a goulash of me--Me! the only Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug in the wide, wide world!"
"I think it was a brilliant idea," remarked the Scarecrow, approvingly.
"Don"t you imagine he would make a better soup?" asked the Tin Woodman, turning toward his friend.
"Well, perhaps," acknowledged the Scarecrow.
The Woggle-Bug groaned.
"I can see, in my mind"s eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the Tin Woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the Saw-Horse and Jack Pumpkinhead"s body, and Queen Jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the Scarecrow!"
This morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious.
"It can"t happen for some time," said the Tin Woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep Jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors."
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"And in the meantime I am liable to starve to death, and so is the Woggle- Bug," announced Tip.
"As for me," said the Woggle-Bug, "I think that I could live for some time on Jack Pumpkinhead. Not that I prefer pumpkins for food; but I believe they are somewhat nutritious, and Jack"s head is large and plump."